I Found Home [Completed]

Chapter Twenty Two

In the mansion, everything was clean. It smelled like bleach every day. The only tainted objects in this 'home' were the people and the old artifacts. If something wasn't clean, even by the slightest mask of dust, someone else was in the mansion. And that wasn't a good thing. The only other person allowed in the mansion was Xander Mulligan. He was.. you could say.. someone my parents wanted me to marry. I was currently storming down the hall towards his usual office in the East Wing, somewhere he adored staying.

As soon as I slammed the door open, Xander was already in his chair. A glass of red wine was in his hand.

"Welcome back, Rebecca," he greeted calmly. I didn't reply, instead, sending him a death glare. He knows what he did. I slammed the door shut harshly, and the echo was heard through the hallway. Xander smiled, taking a sip of his wine. "What? You don't love me anymore?"

"I never loved you in the first place, bastard," I spat angrily.

He raised an eyebrow at me, pretending to be upset. "Did you miss me?"

"As if," I scoffed, crossing my arms.

Xander gestured towards the chair in front of him, smiling like an innocent little piece of shit. He gave me a look, his hazel eyes flashing in the light. "Princess, please, have a seat over here."

"Cut the crap, Xander," I responded venomously. I leaned against the wall, my brown eyes piercing holes in his head. The annoying smile on his face made me want to slap it off. "Why the fuck am I here?"

"I'm taking back what's mine," Xander replied normally before chugging his wine down. He set the glass back on his desk and refilled it with the open bottle.

"I'm not property," I sneered. The idea of women being objects completely disgusted me to the extent beyond hatred. "I wasn't, and never will be, yours."

Xander nodded, taking in the information. He drank the wine again, and I cringed at this. I can't believe no one arrested him for drinking underaged. He's only 20. He tossed me a satisfied smirk and said, "Don't forget you were my fiancée."

"One that was forced, idiot," I retorted, looking out the window behind him.

"Forced or not, Princess," he began, making me cringe at the nickname. He moved the wine glass a little, letting the dark red liquid swirl, "you were still my fiancée." He looked up at me, and my eyes widened, understanding. "And speaking of which—"

"NO," I said loudly, my hands clenching into fists. "Final. Answer."

"Hah, how did you know?" Xander asked, laughing a little. As he drank, his eyes stayed on me, and they squinted. A smile was brought onto his face. "The wedding will be in a week."

"What?! You can't just do that!"

"I will, and I did," he replied childishly.

My eyes widened. My parents accepted this?! I told them I didn't want to fucking marry this disgusting bastard. My mind boggled when I remembered something. "But— But, what about Sam?"

"We won't be needing him anymore," Xander said with a disgusted look on his face. Just like every other person who ever knew me. They always find Sam disgusting and filthy, even though they're worse. "Execution upon sexual harassment is being held before the wedding ceremony."

"Sexual harassment?! Towards who?!"

"You."

My jaw clenched. Sam and I never went through anything that physical. The thought is actually quite revolting. Something struck me like lightning. I appeared in front of Xander's desk, my hands slamming down on the wood. Xander wasn't surprised in the least, and he looked amused if anything. The spark of fake love was in his eyes.

"I KISSED HIM BACK," I shouted loudly. The table shook from the impact, and the wine bottle fell over, spilling wine onto the floor. "THAT'S NOT SEXUAL HARASSMENT."

"Shut up, Princess," Xander said, clearly bored with me now. He peered up and gave me a silent glare, "and head back to your room."

"WHERE IS HE? IS HE IN THE WEST WING? FUCKING TELL ME."

I felt arms pulling on me and looked over my shoulder. Xander's bodyguards pulled me away, throwing me out in the hallway. I landed on my back, and my elbow slammed against the floor, making the shock go throughout my body. I suppressed a little scream and grabbed my arm. The door to the office slammed shut. There's no fucking way I'm gonna marry that bastard. There was only one place I remembered that Mama and Papa kept people in place. I always thought it was illegal, but they pushed me into my room.

The West Wing.

The West Wing was never lit up. So many guards would stand there to protect it. Whenever Xander's family came to visit us, he was allowed in and always came out with a smile. A sadistic smile. I always asked my mom why I wasn't allowed in, and she said, and I quote: "Honey, that place is only for very mature boys. It's dangerous for us ladies." I always thought it was a lie, knowing that Mom had once gone in there.

I tried getting in once. I only made it so far as to seeing a cage. Almost like a cell in a prison. A bed was laid there, with a desk and a toilet. The guard found me, and I pretended that I was sleep-walking, since most of my childhood consisted of scaring my parents when I walked into their room, sleeping. The fact that Xander and his guards were more violent when it came to terms with me was upsetting, because it would've been complicated to get Sam out.

If he wasn't in the West Wing, I couldn't think of anywhere else. It was the only place that made the most sense to me.

So I'd have to hope for the best.