Chapter 2 - The New Rules
Clara woke up expecting the cold floor. Instead, she was cocooned in heavy silk sheets, the scent of lavender and clean linen surrounding her. She bolted upright, her heart hammering against her ribs, instinctively reaching for the back of her neck.
She was wearing a soft, oversized cotton shirt. Her back had been carefully cleaned and treated with soothing ointment.
The bedroom door opened, and Clara scrambled backward against the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest.
Julian walked in. He wasn't wearing his tailored suit; he wore black slacks and a simple Henley shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders. He carried a silver tray with coffee, scrambled eggs, and toast.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, placing the tray on the edge. He didn't come any closer.
"Maria made breakfast," Julian said smoothly, though his slate-gray eyes were incredibly intense as they scanned her pale face. "Eat."
Clara stared at the food, her stomach twisting. "What... what happens now?" she whispered.
"Now, we establish the rules," Julian replied.
Clara squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst.
"Rule number one," Julian’s voice cut through the air, deep and resonant. "No one in this house will ever raise a hand to you. Not my men. Not the staff. And never me."
Clara’s eyes snapped open. She looked at him, searching for the lie.
"Rule number two," Julian continued, holding her gaze. "You do not have to hide in this room. This compound is yours. You are the lady of this house, and my men will treat you with the exact same respect they show me, or I will put them in the ground."
He took a step backward toward the door.
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"And rule number three," Julian finished, his jaw clenching. "When I finally kill your father, I will make sure you are the one who gets to watch."
Before Clara could process the magnitude of his words, Julian turned and walked out, leaving her alone with a hot meal and the sudden, terrifying realization that she might actually be safe.
