You know that feeling you get that moment when someone offers you something you really love—like a slice of rich, moist chocolate cake—but you’re too mad at them to accept? And then, by the time you cool off and decide you actually want it, the cake’s already gone?
Regret, emptiness, anger. That was all I could feel. I hadn’t even realised we had reached our destination till I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of the car door being yanked open. Mr Thompson held the door open for me and I quickly stepped out, muttering a low thank you .
I stood there, so drained by everything unravelling right before me. Before me was a mansion that stared right back at me, a reminder that not even my hopes, dreams and future could ever be able to afford half of it. It was beautiful, sure, but in that cold, distant way. It felt more like a museum than a home.
“Miss Weston,” Mr. Thompson’s voice interrupted my thoughts as he unloaded my bags from the trunk. “Let’s go in, shall we?”
I blinked, still processing the size of the place. “Uh, yeah.”
He gave me a polite nod and began moving the bags toward the house, leaving me standing there, feeling like some mere peasant.
I turned back toward the house, letting out a long breath. This was my life now. This giant, soulless mansion was supposed to be where I lived, at least for the foreseeable future.
As I followed Mr. Thompson toward the front door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong here. My mind kept drifting back to the dorm room, to Maya. I wished I were back there, eating ice cream, watching crappy movies, feeling normal. I was starting to miss the warmth, the familiar chaos, the tiny space that I had complained about so much.
I glanced back at the driveway, half expecting to see Maya rushing to stop me, but the scene was as empty as the mansion felt. The soft hum of the fountain was the only sound, a stark contrast to the noise of my thoughts.
Entering the house, I was greeted by the cool, impersonal air that screamed wealth. It was beautiful, but it felt like a showpiece, not a home.
I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what would happen next. This mansion, despite its beauty, was as cold and distant like the future I was now facing. I realised that no amount of expensive decor could make it feel like home.
The footsteps on the stairs snapped me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see the demon himself coming down with that annoying air of pride. He was dressed in a casual attire and wore an expression that said he was either too cool for this or just plain bored.
“You can have Maureen take Miss Weston’s luggage to the guest room we’ve prepared for her,” Evan said, his gaze shifting as he continued down the stairs. “And you, follow me.”
I walked behind Evan down the lengthy, quiet corridors, my steps resonating on the chilly marble tiles. The house was incredibly spacious, yet the walls felt like they were getting closer as we walked further. I was uncertain of our destination and honestly, I wasn’t certain if I wanted to find out.
Following a couple more twists, Evan opened the door to what appeared to be a workplace. The room was filled with light from windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling, creating shadows on a large mahogany desk covered in papers. I lingered awkwardly, anticipating his words, but he approached the desk slowly, ignoring my presence completely.
I shifted on my feet, crossing my arms. “So, are you going to say something or do you just plan on ignoring me till I turn into a statue to add to your many decorations?” I finally blurted out.
He glanced at me over his shoulder, clearly unimpressed with my impatience. “What do you want to talk about, Lila? The terms of our little arrangement haven’t changed.”
My stomach twisted at his casual tone. “Terms? You act like this is some kind of business deal.”
He turned to face me fully now, leaning against the edge of the desk with that infuriating smirk. “Isn’t it, though? You want your scholarship. I want you to play a role. Simple.”
I glared at him. “Simple? You think blackmailing me into pretending to be your girlfriend is simple?”
His smirk faded, his expression hardening. “It’s not blackmail if you agreed to it.”
I took a step closer, my blood boiling. “Yeah, well, maybeI didn’t have much of a choice. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”
Evan straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t force you, Lila. You needed something, and I gave you a solution. It’s not my fault your options were… limited.”
“Limited?” I repeated, disbelief colouring my tone. “No, you limited them. You took away my job, my scholarship—”
“What could a person of your status have to offer to someone like me? You took your job and scholarship by messing with me. I give the scholarship to those who deserve it,” he shot back, his voice colder now.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered, pacing the room in frustration. “You act like you’re doing me a favour, but this is all about you, isn’t it? Throwing freaking tantrums like a child all because you couldn’t handle a coffee stain on your suit, or does your money not cover dry cleaning Mr Sterling?”
Evan didn’t respond right away, just watched me with that icy stare that made my skin crawl. After a long silence, he spoke again, his voice quieter but somehow sharper. “You think you know me, Lila? You think this is all about getting what I want?” He took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “You don’t know anything.”
I froze, refusing to back down, even though the intensity in his eyes made my heart race.
“Tell me something,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now.
“What do you really think you’re worth? Let me answer that for you. Nothing, because at the end of the day, you’re just a low life whose parents can barely make ends meet, a scholarship girl with nothing but debt and a future you can barely hold onto.”
His words were more than a punch to the guy. Never in my entire years of living, did I think that anyone was heartless enough to say that to a human being.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “I don’t have a lot. But at least I’m not some rich bastard who thinks he can have everyone bowing at his feet because he has money to throw around. At least I have a conscience. What do you have?”
His jaw tightened, and his next words were like ice.
“But you’re technically part of people bowing at my feet, I have everything you don’t, Lila” he said flatly. “Wealth, power, name it. That’s why you’re standing here, taking orders from me.”
I clenched my fists, fighting back the tears. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was wrong. But deep down, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, he was right.
Evan’s phone buzzed from his pocket, breaking the tension. He didn’t even bother checking who it was, his eyes were still locked on mine. “We’re done here,” he said coldly, turning away from me.
As he reached for his phone, I found my voice again, the anger bubbling over. “You can do whatever you want to me, but don’t think for a second I’ll ever look at you with the same respect that others do.”Evan paused, his back still to me.
“Respect?” He scoffed “You wouldn’t recognize it if it slapped you in the face. You’ve spent so much of your life working for peanuts, you probably think that’s all you’re worth. Respect is for people who know their worth, Lila. Not people like you, who can barely afford to keep the lights on, because maybe if you had something worth giving, you won’t be here complaining that I ruined your life.”