Hmmmm!!!!!!!! Things we do love.

The room was so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat. My hands felt cold, and my legs felt weak so I could hardly move them.

I know I had just made the greatest mistake of my life, but I would have still just agreed to it and move on if Carson didn't say those words.

"There is no escape."

Because what if there is really no escape.

Hmmm!!!! Those are the things we do for love .A lot will go for sacrifice to prove your true love to someone, especially people you have the same blood with.

********

I looked around the big room, as I wrapped up my thoughts. Everything was perfect, right from the soft bed, to the fancy furniture, and the expensive clothes in the closet. It looked nice, but it still didn’t feel like home. It felt like a cage.

I walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside.

I took a deep breath.

Even if I ran, where would I go? The guards would catch me before I could even get far.

But still, where there is no way at all I still have to find a way.

Then, suddenly, the door opened.

I jumped.

A maid walked in, holding a tray of food. She placed it on the table without looking at me.

"Mr. Clair asked me to bring you breakfast," she said in a quiet voice.

I looked at the food. It smelled nice, but I wasn’t hungry.

The maid hesitated, then added, "He also said you should come downstairs after eating."

I swallowed hard. "Why?"

She shook her head. "I don’t know, Miss."

I nodded, and she quickly left, closing the door behind her.

I stared at the tray. My stomach felt empty, but I had no appetite.

Still, I forced myself to eat a little. I needed strength.

After a few bites, I stood up and walked to the closet. There were too many clothes, all new, all expensive. Not one of them was mine.

I grabbed a simple dress and changed quickly. Then, taking a deep breath, I walked out of the room.

When I reached the stairs, I saw him, Carson Clair. He was waiting at the bottom. His hands in his pockets, his face calm.

"Good morning, Annabelle," he said.

I nodded. "Good morning."

"Come," he said, turning toward the dining room.

I followed.

He sat and I sat opposite him.

"You didn’t try to run," he said.

I looked up at him. "Would it have made a difference?"

He smirked. "No. It wouldn’t have."

I swallowed.

He leaned forward slightly. "You are my wife now, Annabelle. That means you belong to me. And I don’t like betrayal."

His voice was calm, but that made it even scarier.

I forced myself to ask, "What do you want from me?"

The word made my skin crawl.

I dropped my fork. My hands felt sweaty. "And if I don’t obey?"

Carson played with his hair, watching me like I was a puzzle he had already solved.

"You will, there's no choice but to obey."

His voice was so sure, like he had already decided my future.

He thinks I will obey. He thinks I have no choice.

Maybe he was right.

For now.

*********

Carson’s eyes stayed on me, like he will be holding me captive for the rest of my life, and waiting for me to accept being held hostage by him.

But I wouldn’t.

I picked up my fork again, forcing myself to take a bite of food. I chewed slowly, my mind racing.

I needed to think. I needed to find a way to survive in this house, in this marriage.

Carson wasn’t just powerful, he was dangerous and influential. And dangerous men don’t lose.

"Good," he said, watching me eat. "You’re learning fast."

I swallowed the food, forcing a small smile. "And what exactly am I learning?"

His smirk deepened. "That fighting me is useless."

I held his gaze, my heart pounding. "Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment."

His eyes darkened just a little. Just enough for me to know I had said something he didn’t expect.

A long silence stretched between us. Then, slowly, Carson leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

"Tell me, Annabelle," he said, his voice soft but full of meaning. "Do you know what happens to people who wait for the right moment?"

I didn’t answer.

His smirk returned. "They never get it."

I was shocked, but I kept my face calm.

"So, is that a threat?" I asked.

He chuckled. "No. It’s a lesson."

I forced myself to take another bite, even though I had lost my appetite completely.

I had to stay calm. I had to think.

Carson was smart. He could read people. But he wasn’t a mind reader. He didn’t know what was in my head.

And that was my only advantage.

I finished my food in silence. When I placed my fork down, Carson stood up.

"Follow me," he said.

I hesitated, but I knew I had no choice.

I followed him out of the dining room, down a long hallway. The house was beautiful, but it felt empty. There were guards at every corner, their eyes straight ahead, their hands near their guns.

Carson led me to a set of large wooden doors. He pushed them open and stepped inside.

I followed.

The room was different and he handed me a key.

I held the key tightly, my mind spinning with questions. What did it open? Why did he give it to me?

Carson watched me, his eyes sharp. "Use it wisely," he said.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I had to be careful. If this was a test, I couldn’t fail.

Standing up, Carson walked to the door. "You’ll figure it out soon."

Then he left.

I stared at the key in my hand, my heart pounding.

Was this my way out? Or was it another trap?

Either way, I had to find out.

And I had to be ready.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the small silver key in my hand. It wasn’t heavy, but it felt like it carried the weight of something important or maybe something dangerous.

Carson had placed it in my palm before walking out last night, his voice low and firm.

"Keep this safe, Annabelle."

That was all he said. Nothing more. No explanation. No warning.

I haven't slept since then. My mind kept spinning with questions. Why did he give me a key? What was it for? And most importantly, did he expect me to use it?

I wasn’t stupid. Carson Clair was powerful, careful, and always in control. He never did anything without a reason. If he gave me this key, it wasn’t by accident. It was either a test… or a trap.

A sharp knock came at the door.

I quickly placed the key under my pillow just as the door opened.

Carson walked in.

He was dressed in black again—black suit, black shirt, like he belonged to the darkness. His face, as always, showed nothing. No anger, no concern, it's just there.

"You still have the key," he said, his voice calm.

"Yes."I said,avoiding eye contacts

"Good."

I frowned. "What is it for?"

"That’s for you to figure out," he said.

I gripped the bedsheet. "And what if I don’t want to?"

"Oh, you will. Because curiosity always wins."

His eyes darkened. "Just be careful, Annabelle. Some doors are better left closed."

And with that, he walked out, leaving me with nothing but the key and a thousand unanswered questions.

********

The rest of the day passed in silence.

I ate breakfast in silence, barely touching my food. I wandered around the house, trying to ignore the way the guards watched me. Every hallway, every door, every step reminded me that I wasn’t free.

By the time the sun started setting, my mind was screaming for answers. My heart wouldn’t settle, and no matter how much I tried to distract myself, my thoughts kept going back to that key. It was small, cold in my palm, but it felt heavier than anything I had ever held.

I found myself back in my bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the key again. Carson’s words echoed in my head.

"Some doors are better left closed."

I bit my lip, rolling the key between my fingers. What was behind that door? What was he trying so hard to keep me from?

A part of me wanted to throw the key away. To pretend I never had it. To act like it didn’t matter. But another part—the part of me that still held on to the little freedom I had left—wanted to know the truth.

And that part was winning.

****************

I stood up, pacing back and forth, with the key still in my hand like someone who missed her way.

Maybe I was overthinking, maybe it was nothing serious. Maybe it was just a storage room, or a place he kept old things.

But if it was nothing, why was he so secretive about it?

The curiosity was eating me up and I just needed to know. But I also knew I couldn’t just go and open the door. What if Carson found out? What if there were cameras watching? What if—

Another knock came at the door.

I quickly put the key into my pocket and turned. A maid stood at the doorway, her hands neatly folded in front of her. I had seen her before, but I didn’t even know her name.

“Dinner is ready, ma’am,” she said politely.

I nodded but didn’t move. My mind was spinning with thoughts.

“Wait,” I talked out before she could turn to leave.

She paused, looking at me with curiosity.

I hesitated. Should I ask? Should I even mention it? Would she tell Carson?

But my need for answers was stronger than my fear.

“Is there any door that looks separated from the house?” I asked ,trying to start my conversation well enough.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, her voice quiet.

I took a deep breath. “What’s behind it?”

For a moment, she didn’t answer. She looked down, her hands gripping the fabric of her uniform.

“It’s not my place to say,” she finally whispered.

My heart started beating faster. “So you do know.”

She pressed her lips together. “Please, ma’am… don’t ask about that door.”

That only made me want to ask more.

“Why?” I pushed. “What’s inside?”

She shook her head quickly, stepping back. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. Please forget I said anything.”

Before I could say anything else, she gave a small bow and rushed off, her footsteps barely making a sound against the floor.

I stood there, my heart pounding.

She knew. She definitely knew something.

And whatever it was, it was something she was too scared to talk about.

I pulled the key out of my pocket, staring at it once again.

I had to find out.

And I had to do it soon.

Night came quickly.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

I slipped out of bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. My heart raced fast, as I grabbed the key and stepped into the hallway.

I moved carefully, and my steps were quiet. I didn’t know where the guards were, but I couldn’t risk getting caught. If Carson found out what I was doing… I didn’t even want to think about it.

Then I saw it.

At the end of the hallway, half-hidden in the shadows, was a door.

It looked like every other door in this house—tall, dark, polished. But something about it felt different.

Was this the door?

I reached out and touched the handle. It was freezing, like it hadn’t been used in a long time.

My hand trembled in remembrance of Carson's words.

"Some doors are better left closed."

I could turn around now. I could go back to my bed, pretend I never saw this, and live whatever life Carson wanted for me.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option.

Because once a door is found, it must be opened.

Slowly, I raised the key to the lock.

My breath felt stuck in my throat as I slid it in.

Click.

The lock turned.

The door creaked open.

And what I saw inside made my blood freeze for a moment.

Right.