Joana's POV
Immediately we left the building, Dire took my hand gently but firmly to the car. His grip was light, but the power and intention behind it was obvious.
My mind was racing. How had he found out about the meeting? Was there someone on the inside feeding him information?
We walked in silence, my heart pounding louder with each step. When we reached the car, he opened the door for me like a gentleman, that same coy smile plastered on his face.
I entered, thanking him briefly as a I sat down. Both of us inside the car now, Dire didn't say a word, he just looked out the window like nothing was wrong.
Meanwhile, I was suffocating under the weight of everything. I stared at him, my mind racing. He had this strange calmness about him, a huge confidence that put me on edge.
As we drove, I discreetly checked my phone, keeping the screen away from Dire. Sasha hadn't replied to my earlier message.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but I hesitated. Suddenly, I felt his eyes on me. I froze, and when I glanced up, his lips curled into a smirk, an expression that harboured unanswered questions.
He leaned closer with a suspicious stare,"Who are you texting, doll?"
My throat went dry.
"No one," I retorted quickly, forcing a casual tone.
He nodded in response, clearly not buying it, but he didn't press further.
He didn't need to question me, he clearly already knew something. What I didn't know was how to leave because of the contract that was holding me bound.
By the time we arrived at the house, my heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn't keep this up, pretend like everything was fine while my mind was in a constant state of panic.
But what could I do?
Once inside, I headed straight to the room, shutting the door behind me. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was just on the other side, waiting for me to make a move.
After few minutes inside, I decided to investigate and look for something on Dire that could help me.
I resolved to ask some of the workers in the house some questions. I walked through the hallway all the way downstairs, my footsteps light so he wouldn't hear me.
By now, I had been here long enough to sense that the workers knew more than they were willing to share.
They always seemed uneasy when Dire was nearby, avoiding eye contact as if they feared being caught.
But I had no choice… if I was going to find a way out of here, I needed information, and they were my only hope.
Downstairs, I sighted the chief house maid in the kitchen. It was empty except for her, perhaps preparing dinner.
I had always liked her warm energy, and I thought maybe she would be more open to talking.
She had been in this house for years, long before I arrived. If anyone knew anything about Dire's past, it was her.
"Martha, do you have a minute?"
Martha looked up at me and smiled kindly as she stirred a pot on the stove.
"For you, of course. What's on your mind?" she answered.
I sat on the counter, looking down at my shoes as I thought of what to say.
"Can I ask you something about Dire, Martha?"
Martha's smile faded slightly, but she didn't stop stirring.
"Oh? What about him?" she finally said.
"You've been here for a while. I feel like everyone in this house knows more about him than I do. He keeps me here, Martha. It's like I'm… trapped. Why does he do this?"
Marisol sighed, setting the spoon down and turning to face me.
"Look, I don't know anything, but I know enough to say this... He is a man who doesn't like people talking about him or asking questions."
"Come on. I know you know something, Martha." I said, urging her to say something.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I can't help you." Martha said with a finality that made me leave the kitchen.
Outside, I potted the gardener, working in the garden. He was always outside, keeping to himself, but I figured he might have a different perspective… maybe something he may have overheard.
"Hi, Mike. How are the flowers growing?" I asked, trying to build connection with him by sounding casual with him first.
He looked up from the bushes, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "They're doing well, Ma'am. Should bloom fully in a few days."
I forced a smile. "You've been working here for quite a while, haven't you?"
Mike nodded, but there was a wary look in his eyes.
"Then maybe you've noticed how… things are. The way Dire runs this place. It's different, isn't it?" I pressed gently.
Miguel glanced around, clearly uneasy with the topic of my discussion. "Mr. (Dire's surname) a good boss. Pays well. But…" He hesitated, lowering his voice. "He doesn't like people asking questions."
I leaned in, speaking even softer. "I'm not trying to cause trouble for you, Mike. I just want to understand. He keeps me here, Miguel, and I don't know why. Do you?"
Miguel swallowed hard, shifting on his feet. "All I know is he's always been like this. I'm sorry Ma'am, I can't say more."
I thanked him and walked away, the frustration building in my chest. None of them was willing to talk, it was clear they were afraid of him.
Moments later as I walked back into the house, I saw one of the maids mopping the floor.
I approached her quietly, hoping she would trust me. "Hey, girl, can I ask you something?" I said softly.
The girl tensed, her hand paused a little when she heard my voice. Slowly, she turned to face me, her expression unreadable.
"Of course, ma'am. What do you need?" she replied, her tone gentle and welcoming.
I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "You see, I've been… feeling like there's more to this place than I understand. I mean, about Dire. Did you know him when he was younger?"
The girl's eyes shifted with something… fear, maybe? She carefully placed the mop stick aside, as if the act of speaking about Dire would bring trouble.
"He doesn't like us talking about the past, ma'am. It's not my place to say anything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I stepped closer, lowering my own voice to match hers. "Please. I'm trying to understand him. He's keeping me here, and I need to know why. Anything you can tell me… anything at all… could help."
She sighed, her hands fidgeting on her apron. "I don't know much, but his childhood… it wasn't easy for him. He grew up in a home full of chaos, from what I've gathered. His mother left, his father ruled with an iron fist… It damaged him, I think. Maybe now he's holding on to whatever he can control, and unfortunately, that includes you, but that's all I can say, ma'am. I'm sorry."
I nodded, knowing she was taking a risk even saying that much. "Thank you, Martha." I walked away, my mind racing with more questions than answers.
What kind of childhood creates a man like Dire? I wondered.
Back in the room, I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling as I texted Sasha.
Change of plans. He knows something. I need a distraction.
I waited, staring at the screen as the seconds ticked by. It felt like hours before her reply finally came through.
I've got an idea. Give me an hour.
An hour. It wasn't much time, but it would have to be enough. I grabbed the small bag I had packed earlier and tucked it under my bed, just in case I needed to make a run for it.
Then, I sat on the edge of my bed, my mind racing. I thought back to the conversations I'd had with the staff.
Most of them had been quiet, too afraid to say anything that might get them in trouble with Dire. But the maid had been different.
She had looked at me with something like pity in her eyes when she told me about Dire's past. It was a past I had no idea about… a childhood filled with terror, trauma, something he was clearly running from.
After an hour waiting for Sasha's signal, my phone buzzed again, and I grabbed it, my hands shaking.
I ordered a car. It's at the back entrance. Do something to distract him, and then get to it quickly.
This was it. My one shot. I had to make it count.
Grabbing my bag, I hurried downstairs. I practically ran towards the back entrance when I didn't see any sign of Dire.
I pushed open the back door and rushed out. The car was waiting there, just like Sasha had promised. I raced towards it, throwing open the door and jumping inside.
But the moment I slammed the door shut, my heart stopped.
Dire was sitting in the backseat, waiting for me.
He smiled, his eyes gleaming. "What will I do with you?"