Chapter 6 - Daisy
The mansion had everything—a luxurious swimming pool that sparkled under the sun, a private home theater with velvet curtains and reclining chairs, a greenhouse brimming with rare flowers and plants from across the globe, and a grand library where the scent of old books clung to the air like a memory. The kitchen was massive, more like something from a royal estate, and the pantry? Overflowing with food, spices, and wines from every corner of the world. There was even a cellar that stretched beneath the house like a forgotten tomb. Bedrooms were everywhere—too many to count—and each one was more extravagant than the last. The towering windows let in streams of golden light during the day, and the walls were adorned with priceless paintings that, honestly, looked like they belonged in the Louvre.
It was the kind of place people dreamed of living in—the perfect blend of elegance and power.
But to me?
It was a golden cage.
No amount of wealth, luxury, or splendor could distract me from the truth—I was a prisoner. No better than an object he had claimed. I couldn’t care less if Luther Spraggins was a billionaire, a criminal overlord, or some sculpted Greek god pretending to be a man. None of it mattered to me. All I cared about was getting the hell out of here—escaping this twisted version of paradise before it crushed what was left of my sanity.
I didn’t know how long he intended to keep me like this—captive, caged, and silenced.
It had been a week since that cursed wedding night. Seven long, suffocating days. And still, I hadn’t found a single way to escape. I had tried everything I could think of—testing the windows, studying the routines of the guards, even attempting to find hidden exits in the walls. But nothing worked. My bedroom window opened to a view of the stone courtyard far below—at least a four-story drop. Jumping from that height would shatter every bone in my body. Two hundred broken bones and a slow, painful death.
And sneaking out?
Impossible.
Luther’s men patrolled the estate like trained predators, eyes always watching, hands always close to their guns. I couldn't take two steps outside without one of them shadowing me. They weren’t just security. They were wolves. Loyal, silent, obedient wolves.
I wasn’t even sure how many people actually lived in this godforsaken mansion. Honestly, it felt more like a haunted house than a home. The few people I did see—housekeepers, servers, drivers, assistants—acted more like machines than living, breathing humans. They moved in silence, responded only when spoken to, and showed no emotion on their faces. No laughter. No smiles. Not even a hint of personality. They obeyed Luther's every command like puppets on strings.
If Luther told them to eat, they ate. If he told them to sit, they sat. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they waited for his permission to use the bathroom.
The thought sent a chill through me. I shook it off and kept walking down the long hallway, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble. Everything in this place gleamed with perfection—like it had been cleaned to hide the blood beneath the surface.
As I passed a mirror mounted on the wall, my reflection caught my attention. I stopped and stared. The girl in the mirror didn’t look like me.
I wore a silky green dress that clung to my curves and ended just above my thighs. The neckline shimmered with delicate pearls, catching the light like frost. I looked like a doll dressed up for display. Mary had chosen this dress earlier that day, saying it matched my eyes. She had said it with a smile that never reached her eyes.
It was the most expensive thing I had ever worn. But instead of feeling beautiful, I felt… hollow.
Just as I reached the staircase, I heard a voice echoing from down the hall. Luther.
His voice was sharp, angry, full of heat.
I froze mid-step.
His tone grew louder—more aggressive—with each passing second. My curiosity got the better of me. I turned on my heel and followed the sound, quietly moving down the hallway like a shadow.
The door to the study was slightly ajar. Carefully, I crept closer and leaned just enough to peek through the opening.
“I don’t give a fuck, Wym! Just do whatever the hell it takes to stop that news from spreading. I don’t want anyone knowing about that woman!” Luther’s voice was like thunder crashing in the room. He stood tall, his presence like a storm.
Across from him stood a short, bald man in a sharp blue suit. His back was to me, but the way he held himself—rigid, cautious—told me he wasn’t just some random visitor. He was important. Maybe one of Luther’s top men.
I frowned and edged closer, careful not to make a sound.
“But what about Juliana?” the man—Wym—asked softly. “She’s been asking about you for days now, Luther. She’s worried. What should I tell her?”
The moment he said that name—Juliana—my breath hitched.
Who is Juliana?
Luther’s voice dropped, no longer shouting, but still hard as steel. “Tell her whatever you want.”
The man hesitated, then said, “You love her, don’t you?”
Silence.
My heart pounded as I leaned forward, desperate to hear his answer.
For a split second, I saw something in Luther’s face that startled me.
Vulnerability.
It flickered there, barely noticeable—but real. His usual cold, stone-hard expression softened, his brows knitting ever so slightly. It was like a memory had touched him, and for that brief moment, he wasn’t the monster I knew. He was just… a man. A man remembering someone he loved.
“I’ve missed her,” he admitted quietly. “I want to see her face again. How is she?”
The bald man sighed, his voice quieter now. “She just wants to meet you. That’s all.”
Luther looked away, his jaw tightening. “I can’t. Not now. Too much shit is going on.”
“Then why did you marry her?” Wym asked, almost accusingly.
I tensed, realizing her meant me.
Luther’s face darkened again. The softness vanished. That brief flicker of humanity turned to ash.
“I married her because I want her brother to suffer,” he said with venom in his voice.
My blood ran cold.
“Did you find anything on Ned Dolten?” he asked, and I had to grab the wall to keep from falling.
Ned. My brother.
“No leads yet,” Wym replied.
“When I find him…” Luther growled. “I’ll rip the flesh from his bones.”
A sob rose in my throat. I backed away from the door, horror settling in my chest like ice.
He was going to kill my brother.
I turned to run—but then—
“So…” Luther’s voice called out from behind the door, sharp and knowing. “Did you hear all that?”
I spun on my heels and bolted, heart thundering. I sprinted up the stairs, nearly tripping in my panic, and slammed the door to my room shut behind me. My back pressed against it, I stood there gasping, waiting… waiting for the inevitable blow.
But it never came.
I slid to the floor, clutching my chest. My brother. My brother!
He couldn't kill Ned. He couldn’t!
But I knew better. Monsters didn’t bluff.
Hours later, snow drifted lazily outside the window. The fat flakes slapped softly against the glass, painting it with a delicate, melting frost. The world looked peaceful, white and pure—everything this house wasn’t.
I was still trembling when something outside caught my attention.
A black car.
It halted at the far corner of the mansion. My eyes narrowed. Three figures emerged—two men and a woman.
The woman…
My breath caught.
Daisy?
What the hell is she doing here?
She looked nervous, her eyes darting. One of the men gripped her arm tightly, making her flinch. She snapped something at him, but he didn’t care—he just dragged her forward.
Panic gripped me.
What did Luther want with her?
I flung open the window despite the icy air and leaned out for a better look. But they disappeared into the mansion before I could call out.
I didn’t think. I ran.
Down the stairs. Across the hall. Through the corridors. My pulse pounding in my ears.
Then I heard it.
A cry.
Daisy.
I froze for a moment, horror tightening around my throat.
Then I ran toward the sound. Through the living room. Past the stairs. Into the back hall, where the servants never spoke.
A small, dimly lit room came into view.
Another scream.
My stomach twisted. I approached the window and peered through it.
Daisy was on her knees.
She was trembling, her hands clasped as if in prayer, sobbing for her life.
And in front of her sat Luther, sipping wine like he was enjoying a performance.
“Please, leave me,” she cried. “I beg you. Mercy!”
“Do you?” he asked calmly, lips curling into a slow, twisted smirk.
“Please… don’t kill me…” Her voice cracked, raw and broken.
My heart stilled.
Kill?
Luther stood and sauntered toward her. He crouched beside her, lifting her chin with his fingers, his voice a deadly whisper. “Will you tell me where you sent them?”
She didn’t answer.
“Where did you send them?” he barked louder.
“I-I don’t know,” Daisy stammered. “I swear… I don’t know anything about them.”
He pulled a gun from his holster, and pressed it to her temple.
Oh God.
No!
Without thinking, I burst through the door.
Luther’s men surged forward, but I ducked past them and lunged for Luther, grabbing his wrist and wrenching the gun away.
“What the fuck?!” he roared. “What are you doing here?!”
“Don’t kill her!” I screamed.
“Noelle?” Daisy sobbed. I turned and pulled her into a tight embrace, shielding her body with mine.
“I’ve got you,” I whispered. “He won’t hurt you.”
“I don’t want to die,” she sobbed. “I want to be with my kids. He wants to take Lara. Where will they go if I die? Those children… they need us...”
But before she could finish, Luther yanked me away, reclaiming the gun.
“Get off her!” he growled. “Get out!”
“No!” I stood in front of Daisy, trembling but defiant. “You won’t kill her!”
He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with fury—and something darker.
“Then kill her yourself,” he said. “If you want to stop me.”
“Why do you want to kill her?” I asked, voice shaking.
No answer.
“Why do you want the orphanage? Why destroy their lives?”
Still silence.
“She’s innocent. The children are innocent!”
His expression shifted—subtly. He stalked closer.
“Do you want to save those children’s lives?” he asked softly.
I nodded, hesitant.
“Do you want the orphanage untouched?”
Another nod. My heart pounded.
He leaned in until his breath brushed my cheek.
“Then tell me… will you open your legs for me?”
My soul froze.
“What?”
“Sleep with me, Noelle,” he said, voice low and cruel. “Willingly. If I fulfill your demands, will you give yourself to me?”
I couldn’t speak. I bit my lip, forcing the scream to stay buried in my throat.
“Answer me,” he whispered again, almost seductively.
Then—gunfire.
A scream.
My eyes snapped to Daisy.
Blood.
Another shot rang out. Her body jolted.
“No!” I screamed as her chest blossomed with red, her legs crumpling beneath her.
Her eyes met mine one last time—wide, pleading, broken.
And then she fell.
Dead.
I stared in horror at Luther, the man who had just murdered a woman in cold blood. My voice cracked. “You’ve got to be kidding me… You… you monster!”
I launched at him, grabbing his collar with both fists. “How could you? She was innocent! You killed her husband, and now you killed her too!”
Luther pried me off like I was nothing and shoved me to the ground.
I landed near Daisy’s lifeless body. Her blood soaked into the floor. Her eyes still open.
Luther crouched beside me, tilting my chin with fingers cold as death. “She got what she deserved,” he said.
“And as for the children,” he added, his voice a serpent’s whisper, “I’m still waiting for your answer. I know what it will be. You love them too much, don’t you?”
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