My Little Araignée

ch 5 *the truth*

am not sure if thsi fits the chap but yall can try it out

Human'i think it was christina perry 

                                                                         Narrator

Lilith's wrists throbbed where the ropes had bitten into her skin. She flexed her fingers, trying to shake off the stiffness, but her muscles remained tense. The air in the dim, musty room was thick, each breath feeling like a struggle. Her heart still pounded from the cold menace in his words. He had spoken so calmly, so methodically: "You'll make the perfect bargaining chip."

Fucking giant, she thought bitterly.

The door creaked open, spilling light into the oppressive darkness. He entered, his tall figure casting a long shadow over her. His face was as unreadable as ever, those dark, piercing eyes regarding her with a cold detachment.

"Get up," he ordered, his voice sharp and devoid of emotion. His grip on her arm was firm, reminding her she had no choice. She winced but complied, standing on shaky legs as he guided her out of the room.

The shift from the suffocating gloom to the brightly lit hallway made her squint. As her eyes adjusted, the sheer opulence of the palace surroundings struck her. Golden chandeliers shimmered, their light reflecting off polished marble floors. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, but despite the beauty, the grandeur felt like a trap. It was all too much—a gilded cage.

"Get her cleaned up." His command echoed through the hallway, clipped and detached. 

His gaze flicked away from her, his words more like an order than any gesture of kindness.

Two women, eyes wide with nervousness, approached. Their hands trembled as they led her away, avoiding eye contact. The servant quarters they entered were simple, a stark contrast to the lavish hallways. It was clear this space was for function, not comfort.

Lilith let them undress her without protest, her mind racing while her body remained numb. The warm water was a fleeting comfort, but it couldn't erase the truth. She wasn't free. She was a pawn in his game, and this small moment of mercy—if it could be called that—was just another move in whatever twisted strategy he was playing.

As the women brushed and braided her hair, her thoughts drifted back to him. Alex. He was nothing like anyone she had ever encountered—so calculated, so cold. Yet despite the danger, there was something magnetic about him. She hated that part of herself was drawn to it. But she despised him more—for how he held her life in his hands, so casually, like she was nothing.

When the servants finished, they dressed her in a deep crimson silk gown. One of them gave her a hesitant nod. "He's waiting for you downstairs," the woman whispered.

Lilith's heart raced. She didn't want to face him again, but she knew there was no avoiding it.

 They led her back to him, and as his eyes briefly scanned her appearance, he muttered, "Better." It wasn't a compliment—just an observation.

Better? she thought with irritation. What the hell does that mean? She shot him a defiant look but said nothing.