In the bustling heart of a metropolitan city, Felix Everhart, a talented yet unknown painter in his mid-20s, dreams of fame and recognition. His chance for a breakthrough comes unexpectedly when he receives a mysterious call from an acquaintance, of...
Aurelia woke up in a room she didn't recognize at the moment, she adjusted her eyes and looked at the closed curtains.
As she tried to piece together her surroundings, she remembered she had spent the night with Felix.
A small smile formed on her lips, touched by his thoughtfulness as he remembered she didn't like brightness.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Austin entered. "Good morning, Miss Aurelia," he greeted her. "Mr. Everhart had to leave for a while. He received a call from James and said he'll be back by evening."
Aurelia's smile faded as she processed the news. "Where did he go?" she inquired, a note of concern in her voice.
Austin hesitated, then replied, "He didn't specify, Miss. I'm sorry for not informing you earlier. I was caught up with some work."
Aurelia nodded, a hint of disappointment in her expression. She stood from the bed, her thoughts lingering on Felix's sudden departure.
Determined to make the best of the day, she walked towards her room to freshen up and have breakfast.
Meanwhile, Felix was playfully chasing James around, a shoe in hand, as if trying to hit him in jest. Scarlett watched them with a tired expression, her hand on her forehead, sighing at their childish antics.
Whereas after refreshing herself, Aurelia sat down for breakfast, but her mind kept wandering back to Felix.
She missed his presence, his warmth. Despite the solitude, she found solace in the memory of their time together.
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Aurelia's mind buzzed with thoughts as she stepped into the garden, seeking solace in the gentle embrace of nature.
As she turned to head back inside, her eyes caught sight of her father's car pulling up the gravel driveway.
Surprise jolted through her. Hastening her pace, Aurelia hurried back into the palace, her heart pounding in her chest.
She reached her room and closed the heavy wooden door behind her, sinking onto the edge of her bed. The silence of the corridor outside amplified the sound of her racing heart. She strained to hear footsteps approaching, confirming her suspicion that someone was indeed heading towards her room.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Aurelia's gaze drifted towards the window, offering a fleeting distraction. Just then, the door creaked open, revealing Mr. Hawthorne's stoic figure. His face was a mask, revealing nothing of his emotions.
He closed the door locking it and moved towards her, sitting in front of her on the bed. Aurelia managed a small smile, trying to ease the tension that hung in the air. "Good morning, Father," she greeted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You came early this time."
Mr. Hawthorne returned her smile, though it was a fleeting expression. He reached out, patting her hair gently. "Good morning, child," he replied, his voice calm but distant. "I wanted to see the portrait, so I couldn't wait and came here. But I heard Mr. Everhart went somewhere."
Aurelia's heart sank at the mention of Felix's absence. She had hoped to avoid her father's scrutiny, at least until the painting was complete. "Yes, he had some errands to run," she explained, her voice faltering slightly. "He should be back soon, I think."
Nodding his head Mr. Hawthorne continued patting her head when his grip suddenly tightened around her hair.
Aurelia's eyes widened in shock as her father's grip tightened, a sharp pain shooting through her scalp. A light scream escaped her lips, her voice tinged with both fear and agony. "Father, it's hurting!" she exclaimed, her words falling on deaf ears.
Mr. Hawthorne's grip remained unforgiving, his face contorted with anger. "It's hurting? Yes, it's hurting!" he screamed, his voice laced with frustration and betrayal. "It's hurting me that you are taking my daughter away from me! What do you think, I don't know your tactics?"
With a sudden, forceful tug, he pulled Aurelia by her hair, causing her to fall to the floor with a thud. He dragged her towards the ornate mirror in her room, his grip unrelenting. "This life, I have given you everything. The name, the clothes, everything!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the room.
Aurelia sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to free herself from her father's grasp. Her hair was a tangled mess, her hands desperately clutching his hand, which held her braid in a vice-like grip. "Father, please! It's hurting, please! I won't resist anymore, I swear! I will let the new artist paint, please, Father, please, leave me!" she pleaded, her voice choked with tears.
Finally, Mr. Hawthorne released her hair, stepping back slightly. "Okay, then. Now that you have agreed, I will leave. But what about the time you have wasted? You should at least repay me!" he said, his tone still harsh and unforgiving.
As he spoke, he picked up a candle stand from nearby and walked towards Aurelia, who was now cowering in fear, her back against the mirror. Outside the room, Austin and other servants had gathered, their faces filled with concern. They tried to open the door, but it was locked, and their efforts were in vain.
The female maids begged Mr. Hawthorne to stop, their voices trembling with fear and desperation. However, he paid them no heed, his focus solely on Aurelia. With a menacing glint in his eyes, he raised the candle stand, ready to strike.
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As the candle stand struck Aurelia with full force, a loud, piercing scream erupted from her lips, echoing through the room. The sound startled the servants outside, their faces filled with horror and concern. They intensified their efforts to open the locked door, their frantic knocks growing louder.
Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing Mr. Hawthorne adjusting his hair casually. The servants fell silent, their eyes wide with shock. Mr. Hawthorne's cold gaze swept over them before he spoke in a chillingly calm tone.
"Give her no food to eat. If I find she ate anything, I will fire all of you. Understand?" he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. The servants nodded fearfully, understanding the consequences of disobedience.
As Mr. Hawthorne walked away, the female servants hesitantly entered the room first, their hearts heavy with sorrow for Aurelia. Austin, standing outside, let them tend to Aurelia first, but his concern grew as he heard her cries of pain from inside.
Unable to bear it any longer, Austin rushed into the room to find the female servants hugging Aurelia, who was curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. He approached her slowly, his heart breaking at the sight before him.
Aurelia's hair covered her face, and as Austin gently brushed it aside, he stumbled back in shock and horror.
