𝒫𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒

Chapter 4

Eleanor had just stepped out of the shower, the warm steam lingering around her as she approached the bathroom mirror. She was wrapped in a soft robe, the gentle fabric a welcome comfort against her skin. She turned her attention to her hair, eager to tackle the task of restoring her curls to their former glory.

The hair products left outside her bedroom door that morning had been a lifeline. She had found them as soon as she awoke and wasted no time heading to the bathroom. Now, she stood in front of the mirror, the faint haze of steam blurring her reflection, as she began to carefully care for her curls.

She shook the spray bottle of leave-in conditioner and applied it generously to her damp hair. Her fingers worked through the curls, scrunching and forming each one with deliberate, gentle motions. The conditioner made her hair feel instantly softer, but the process of working it through her thick curls required patience and effort.

Her arms ached from the repetitive motion, but she pushed through the discomfort, determined to get her hair back in shape. Each curl was meticulously formed, her fingers combing through the strands to ensure that the conditioner was evenly distributed. Despite the ache in her muscles, Eleanor found a certain solace in the routine, the familiar actions grounding her amid the whirlwind of her recent upheaval.

As she continued, her thoughts drifted to her mother and her aunt. She remembered the days spent with her mother, the way she had gently combed through her hair, and how her mother's presence had been a steadying force in her life. The loss of her mother had been a profound grief, one that had cast a long shadow over her subsequent years.

Her aunt's unexpected intervention had altered the course of her life, leading her to this grand villa and its enigmatic occupants. The realization that her aunt had essentially taken her from a life she might have known, though painful, had become part of her reality.

Eleanor glanced at her reflection, the curls slowly regaining their bounce and definition under her careful touch. The sight was a small but tangible victory, offering a glimmer of normalcy in the midst of her current disarray. Despite the aching in her arms, she felt a sense of relief as her hair began to look more like herself again.

The steam from the shower had dissipated, leaving behind a warm, enveloping calm. Eleanor took a deep breath, savoring the brief moment of quiet and comfort. The simple act of caring for her hair was a small way to reclaim a piece of herself amid the unfamiliarity of her new surroundings.

After spending what felt like an eternity working through her curls with the diffuser, Eleanor finally managed to dry her hair into its natural, bouncy state. The rhythmic hum of the diffuser had been oddly soothing, and as she admired the results in the mirror, she felt a fleeting sense of normalcy and accomplishment.

Once dressed  she felt a touch of nervous anticipation. Steeling herself, she left her room and ventured out into the grand hallway of the villa. The grandeur of the space, with its high ceilings and rich decor, was both awe-inspiring and intimidating.

Eleanor decided to make her way to the kitchen, hoping to find a semblance of routine or perhaps an opportunity to engage with the people she was now surrounded by. As she walked down the stairs and into the large, open area of the ground floor, she could hear the faint sounds of activity coming from the dining room.

Pushing open the door to the dining room, she was greeted by the sight of all the men in the house gathered around a large table. The breakfast spread had already been cleared away, but the table was now occupied with papers, blueprints, and various tools. The men were deeply engrossed in their tasks, their conversations hushed and focused.