My personal slave

Ava’s POV

"Clara."

The name left my lips smoothly, despite the sting of lying under pressure. Lucien’s fingers gripped my chin tighter, his grey eyes scanning my face like he could see through the lie and was deciding whether or not to punish me for it.

After a long, agonizing moment, he let go.

"Very well, Clara," he said coldly. "From this moment on, you belong to me. You will not be sold, traded, or touched by any man other than myself."

What the hell?

He turned to the guards and repeated the same thing. “Do you all hear me?” he said with a stiff voice and nodded, taking their eyes off me immediately.

He turned to the audience of masked men and raised a hand. "The bidding is over. This auction is done. Everybody, get out."

Murmurs and groans of protest echoed through the hall, but no one dared defy him. His word was law here, and the authority in his voice shut every mouth.

"She is my personal maid. And I will deal with her personally."

My stomach twisted. Personal maid? That couldn’t be good.

He grabbed my wrist without another word and began walking, dragging me off the stage in front of the others. My legs struggled to keep up with his long strides, but I didn’t resist.

There was no point.

He didn’t stop until we reached the far end of the mansion, a section I hadn’t seen before, not that I could when my vision was blocked when we got here. The halls were darker and quieter and I could hear our footsteps too loudly as we walked down the hall.

The windows were larger and the walls were decorated with art that felt... Bland, like they were just there not because they wanted to beautify the place at all or anything.

He opened a door at the end of the hallway and shoved me inside.

The room was empty. No bed. No windows. Just a low wooden bench, a chair, and a closet against the far wall. There was a small bathroom attached, but it didn’t make the space feel any more human.

He stepped in after me and shut the door.

"Strip."

I blinked. "What?"

He didn’t repeat himself. He simply stared at me with a blank look.

I hesitated, not willing to listen to him.

He stepped closer, invading my personal space and making me all too aware of him.

"You said your name was Clara. We both know that is a lie. Now you will either tell me your real name or strip. You will follow my commands or else..."

"or else what? Are you going to kill me?" I retorted.

"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up this morning." he smirked and I flinched.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

“So would you strip or do you want me to do it for you?”

I raised my hands to cover myself and looked down as I whispered. “Ava. My name is Ava Monroe.”

He let out a dark chuckle and then stepped away from me.

"You will clean my room. Wake up when I do. Sleep only when permitted. You will eat only what I allow, wear what I provide, and speak only when spoken to."

He circled me like a wolf sizing up prey.

"You will not leave this room unless I say so. If you try, there are guards who will drag you back. If you scream, no one will hear you. If you disobey, you will regret it."

He leaned down so his mouth was near my ear.

"And if you ever embarrass me in front of my men again, you’ll wish I had pulled the trigger myself."

His words seared into my skin like a brand.

Then he pulled back, his face expressionless again.

"You’ll start your duties tomorrow. Tonight, haunt yourself with what you are now and have become ."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, locking the door behind him.

—

The silence that followed was deafening.

I stood in the center of the room, staring at the door he’d just exited. My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the wooden bench as my body trembled.

I didn’t cry.

I couldn’t even though I wanted to.

I laid down on the bench, curling into myself, my mind running wild. Every moment in that auction hall replayed like a movie on loop. The fear. The stare. The choke. The girl I saved. The lie I told.

"Clara." I muttered to myself.

Who the hell was Clara?

A slave. That’s who.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I just stared at the door.

—

The next morning came too soon. A bell rang from somewhere outside the door. It wasn’t loud, but within minutes, the door opened.

A maid walked in with a tray of food and placed it on the table. She didn’t speak to me. She didn’t look at me. Just bowed slightly and left.

Lucien didn’t show up that morning. Or the afternoon. Or even the evening.

I was let out of my room and directed to his room though. I was told to clean his space and since it seemed like the best chance to find information too, I didn't put up a fight.

I did what I could. I cleaned the already spotless bathroom. Rearranged his clothes in the closet and anything that called out to me.

Then the night came.

And everything changed.

—

I was braiding my hair in my cell, when the door burst open.

Lucien stood there again, but this time, his eyes were wild and he looked extremely furious.

Gold flickered in his eyes bug I just thought it was the reflection of the light.

"On your feet," he snapped.

"What—"

"Don’t ask questions."

He crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed me by the arm.

"Let go of me!"

He didn’t listen.

He pulled me out of the room, his grip bruising as he dragged me through the hallway, my bare feet hitting against the cold marble floor.

"Where are we going? What did I do?"

"Shut up."

His voice was quiet, but it dripped with fury.

He turned sharply down another hall, his pace only speeding up.

Then I realized where we were headed.

His room.

And dread filled my whole body.