Julia POV**

“Are you lost?” His voice is smooth but lacks warmth. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Every bone and nerve in my body hurts.

“You got a name?” he continues

“Julia Adams,” I manage to speak up, my voice shaking from the cold. The cloud picked today of all days to cry with me, like I don't feel miserable enough.

“Please don’t take me back to him,” I say, so low I can barely hear myself. Vincent's voice still echoes in my skull “ungrateful little b*tch. You think you can leave me? You are nothing without me, Julia. You better come back here or I swear I’ll kill you”

“I'm Jerome” he says snapping my thoughts back. He leans down to me, not too close but close enough

“If you want, you can come with me.”

I look up at him, his gorgeous long black hair that has now been sleeked back by the rain. His well-tailored suit. He smells like roses and sin. I can barely see his face but… But his beautiful physique, his visible broad shoulders trying so hard to be contained in his suit. He’s tall, too tall. And being five-foot-four inches doesn’t seem to be helping my case, nor does admiring a stranger with unknown intentions.

The storm rolls in fast. Thunder’s cracking overhead like God is splitting the sky. But thankfully the rain has stopped.

My fingers are clenching tighter against my sides.

I tucked my wet hair behind my ears,

“My boys won’t hurt you. Not unless you give them a reason to” he says with a smile. Like he didn’t just throw a threat.

I look up my eyes narrowing all four of them. All dressed in black suits too. Standing firm like robots. I also can’t see their faces. But even with my blurry vision, I notice two SUVs, or whatever these expensive cars are called, and the thought of leaving with someone who looks even more dangerous than my abusive ex ties a knot in my stomach.

But I also have nowhere else to go. And I don’t appreciate life at the moment, so I don’t really care what happens to me. I look up at him and nod. He walks closer and wraps his giant coat around me leading me to his car. My arms wrap tight around my ribs, pressing on the bruise that bastard Vincent gave me.

I didn’t feel the cut in my feet until my blood started mixing with the rain. I keep looking back. In denial, but I know better. He won’t chase after me. And I hate that even with everything he put me through I still love him, and a very little part of me that has no sense of worth hopes he comes running down trying to apologize. He’s right I’m a good-for-nothing. I’m worth nothing.

The interior of the car is warm, but I still can’t stop shivering.

He notices but stays silent, the only sound I hear is the soft hum of the engine

I sit curled into the passenger seat, my knees drawn to my chest, his coat still wraps around me like armor. I realize I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my nightgown. Just lace and bruises

The drive goes on for a while and then turns onto a long, gated driveway, flanked by iron and hedges. Cameras track us as we pass. The estate comes into view. Massive, modern, and old money elegant, with tall windows and marble steps. I expect something big from a man like this, but this is beyond my imagination

. It doesn’t look like the kind of place that belongs to a man you randomly meet in the rain. But the more I see of him, the more I realize nothing about him makes sense. It looks like I had just been saved by a Mafia boss whose garden looked like it cost more than Vincent’s mansion.

Another man, middle-aged also in a black suit opens my door before I can move. Apparently, no one in this place dresses casually. He looks surprised to see me, but just gives a small bow and then steps back. “Welcome master Jerome,” he says giving another slight bow. “Jerome” I finally remember what his name is.

I couldn’t hear clearly when he introduced himself earlier, my ears were still filled with the echoes from Vincent’s blow and honestly, they still are. I step out of the car trying to hide the way I limp as the gentleman leads me inside, everything is sleek and intimidating.

Gray floors, black leather furniture, and artwork I don’t recognize but could tell was expensive. I feel small in the hallway, like I stepped into someone else’s world and can’t find the exit. “The help will get you settled in for the night”. Jerome says as he walks up the stairs.

I turn just in time to see a woman rounding the corner. Also middle-aged, tall, and of course dressed in a Silky black blouse tucked into high-waisted pants. Her braids are pinned into a neat bun at the top of her head, and her lipstick is the same shade as murder.

Great.

Even his help is intimidating.

“Miss?”

My brows shoots up. “Uh… yeah?”

She gives a polite smile, “I’m Renée. Master Jerome asked me to show you to your room and help you change into something warm.”

I stand up slowly, suddenly aware of how gross I feel in my rain-soaked clothes. With my hair stuck to the back of my neck.

“I think I’m staining the floor,” I mutter.

Renée says nothing. Just nods like she’d already prepped for it.

She leads me up a wide staircase, past old paintings that look straight out of a movie, into another long hallway filled with soft yellow light. The walls are warm beige with dark wooden trims, and everything smells faintly like lavender and pine. Cozy, for a freaking haunted castle.

She opens a door near the end of the hall and steps aside.

The room inside is huge. Honestly, I expect nothing less. There’s a fireplace flickering at the far end, a canopy bed that looks like it belongs in a fairy tale, and a walk-in closet that I'm 80% sure can double as a panic room. I wonder whose room this is.

“I placed fresh towels in the bathroom and warm clothes on the bed,” Renée says, not looking at me.

She has the whole perfect-maid thing down. Cool, efficient, zero emotion. I'm not sure if that makes me feel safer… or more creeped out.

“Thanks,” I mumble,

“If you need anything else, pull the cord beside the bed.”

A literal cord. Not a phone. Not an intercom.

This is some rich people's shit.

“Right,” I say. “Cool. Normal. Love it.”

She didn’t laugh. Just turns to leave, then pauses in the doorway

“The doctor will be here soon, I’ll be back to get you when he arrives. Please be fully decent before that. And then she just leaves the door closing softly behind her.

A doctor? This late? What in the magical castle is happening?

I take off my wet clothes. Not sure where to leave them. The entire place looks clean that every print I leave feels like a stain. I walk into the bathroom and drop them on the floor. Seems like the only place that feels suitable.

The water is just the right amount of hot. It feels so good, too good. It would be a perfect bath if my entire body weren’t bruised and injured. I forgot what life feels like when I don’t have to live on my toes or wonder what I might do or say next to earn a beating. I keep scrubbing my body, so hard like I am trying to erase 2 years of my life I’ve been In love with Vincent.

It was like I never did anything right anymore. Abused sexually, physically, and emotionally, followed by words that made me feel like the most worthless person on the planet. Iv never been proud of my dating history.

Iv Dated drug addicts, junkies, drunks. I knew they were bad for me, but I did what I had to do to survive, and when I met Vincent, he looked like an upgrade, a person from a different world, he already had enough wealth and wouldn’t need me to steal or collect scrabs for him. Call me greedy but I wanted that.

I was tired of being a survivor, I just wanted to be a girl, to live an easy life. A life I've only dreamed of. But like they say one can only dream.

The pain of the water mixing with my wounds snaps me back to reality. I get out of the bathroom dropping my towel on the bed to change into the clothes Miss Creepy left out for me. Just as quickly I hear the knob of the door twist.

“Miss the doctor is here, I will now escort you downstairs,” she says unfazed like I'm not standing there completely naked. Talk of the devil, she could have at least knocked. I quickly grab my towel and use it as a cover.

I can see her staring at my bruises. There are so many, the poor woman didn’t know where to look. Her expression changes, she looks like she feels sorry for me “Thank you but can you like… give me a minute to change,” I see her try to resist but then she gives a slight bow “Alright then 2 minutes”.

Just as she was about to leave I let out a scream. She sprints towards me. “What’s wrong miss” She looked down at my leg. Blood rushing down like tap water. The complete terror in her face. I fell to the ground both hands on my stomach I know exactly what this is. This is a familiar chapter in my book but unlike the other times, I didn’t know I was pregnant.