Twisted Veil of Devotion

Part 14

Stella POV:

After Zane left, the room fell into a heavy silence, thick with the weight of everything that had just happened. My heart raced, but my body felt weak, trapped in this lavish prison. 

The air in this mansion was suffocating, every inch of it a reminder that I was his captive now, not just in body, but in his twisted version of love.

A soft knock on the door made me jolt, and before I could say anything, the door opened. An older woman, dignified yet severe, entered the room, followed by three younger women who carried themselves with quiet obedience. The older woman bowed slightly, her face impassive.

"Mistress," she said, her voice calm but formal, "My name is Cindy. I'm the head of staff here at Mr. Cavallaro's estate. These are my assistants," she gestured to the young women behind her, "and they will be your staff from now on."

I blinked, trying to process what she was saying. Staff? They expected me to stay here like I was some... princess in a gilded cage. My stomach churned at the thought.

"We will help you get ready," Cindy continued, her tone unfazed by my stunned silence. "After your shower, a doctor will come check on your swollen ankle."

I instinctively looked down at my foot, the throbbing pain that I'd been ignoring since Zane caught me earlier now becoming more apparent. It was swollen, purple and angry-looking, the result of my desperate attempt to escape.

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to refuse their help, to scream and demand that they let me go, but I knew it was useless. These women were just doing their job, probably as trapped in this house as I was.

One of the younger women stepped forward, her eyes avoiding mine, and motioned toward the ensuite bathroom. "Shall we help you, mistress?" she asked quietly, as if she could sense the battle waging inside me.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to nod. Fighting them wouldn't do me any good. I needed my strength. If I was going to survive Zane and find a way out of this nightmare, I had to be smart. I had to play the part. For now.

Cindy and the others guided me into the bathroom, which was just as opulent as the bedroom, marble floors, gold fixtures, and a massive claw-foot tub. It was all too much. Too extravagant, too unreal. The kind of luxury that felt obscene in the context of my captivity.

The hot water did little to soothe the ache in my chest as I let them undress me and guide me into the bath. My mind kept replaying Zane's face, the way he had looked at me with that twisted sense of possession, like I was his prize. His toy. And worse, the way he seemed completely unbothered by the fact that I had shot him.

When I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan. The way he'd fought for me, tried to protect me. My heart ached for him, wondering if he was okay, if he was still out there fighting to find me. But even as I clung to that hope, doubt crept in. What if Zane had hurt him? What if Zane had...

No, I wouldn't let my mind go there.

When the bath was over, Cindy handed me a thick robe, the soft fabric like a cruel comfort against my skin. I limped slightly as I walked, the pain in my ankle sharp, but the thought of seeing a doctor at least gave me some hope. Maybe I could find a way to convince him or her to help me escape, or at least get a message out to Ryan.

As Cindy and her assistants finished helping me dress in a soft, flowy dress, there was another knock at the door. A tall man in a white coat entered, carrying a medical bag. He didn't smile, didn't even meet my eyes as he knelt to examine my ankle.

I wanted to ask him for help, to beg him to get me out of here, but the fear of Zane's retribution held me back. What if he was loyal to Zane too? What if he reported everything I said?