♥ Chapter 12 ♥

Yara Blake.

Sunday.

18:20 '' Yara's House. '' Bedroom. '' Eldoria.

I'm finishing packing my suitcase and feeling a little anxious. Today is Sunday, and it's already getting dark. I need to leave before it gets too late. I woke up much earlier than usual, around five in the morning, so I could tidy up the house, prepare Ronan's coffee, and also make lunches for the week. And since yesterday, he's been issuing subtle threats, saying that if he finds out anything, bad things will happen. I know he means me.

I'm still shocked to discover that he intends to use my money for his company. That money was my hope, my way to escape, or, perhaps, to hire a lawyer to get a divorce. I let out a heavy sigh as I closed my suitcase. I don't have many clothes, since Ronan never bothered to give me more than the basics. Everything I own is stored there, all my possessions.

He left a while ago, saying that something had happened at the company, and he needed to sort it out. I know it's a lie. He must be with another woman. It hurts me, not because I love him, but because of his lack of respect. He's never respected me, and I can't say anything, I can't demand anything, because if I do, I'll be beaten up. But, in a way, it's better that he's gone. I can leave here in peace, without hearing any more threats or suffering any more violence.

With my suitcase packed, I take one last look around the room. I won't miss this place, even if I'm only staying at the mansion for five days. I leave the room, walking slowly, my heart racing with anxiety. Furthermore, I walk carefully down the stairs, and as I open the front door, I feel the cool night air envelop me. Finally, I feel a little free.

I look down the street and see a cab approaching. I raise my hand, and the car stops in front of me. Likewise, I get in quickly and, with a shaky voice, give the address of the Darkmore brothers' mansion.

As the cab starts to move, I discreetly take out the money I hid in Ronan's wallet last night while he was asleep. I knew he'd never give me a penny for this trip, so I did what I needed to. I look out of the window, watching the house that is my prison get further and further away. Being away from him for five days is the best thing that could happen to me.

Finally, the cab arrives at the Darkmore mansion. I pay the driver with trembling hands and get out of the car, holding my suitcase. I take a deep breath, looking at the imposing building in front of me. The mansion is even grander than I imagined, and it's hard to believe that I've actually been accepted as a maid in a place like this.

My heart racing, I approach the intercom. My trembling hand hesitates for a moment before pressing the button. A few seconds later, a female voice rings out from the other end.

'' Who is it?

I swallowed before answering, my voice coming out a little hesitantly.

''My name is Yara Blake, and I'm the new maid.

There's a brief pause, and then the woman answers with unexpected softness.

''Right, dear. Come in.

The gate opens slowly in front of me, revealing the path that leads inside the property. I take a deep breath and start walking, my steps slowing as my eyes take in every detail around me.

The mansion's garden is stunning, with a perfectly trimmed lawn that stretches like a green carpet underfoot. Colorful flowers adorn the beds, creating a vibrant palette of colors that contrasts with the deep green of the trees that surround the area. A white stone path winds through the garden, guiding my steps to the main entrance. Shrubs pruned into impeccable geometric shapes flank the path, and the soft scent of flowers fills the air, bringing a sense of tranquility that contrasts with the turmoil I feel inside.

I reach the main door of the mansion, and before I can muster the courage to knock, it opens. An elderly woman with a gentle countenance smiles warmly at me.

''Welcome, dear.'' Her voice is soft and welcoming. ''My name is Camila Thompson, I'm the housekeeper. Please come in.

She steps aside, giving me room to pass. I enter the mansion still feeling out of place, my eyes widening at the sight of the stunning interior.

The entrance hall is imposing, with a marble floor that gleams under the light of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. The walls are adorned with classic works of art, elegantly framed. There is an air of grandeur in every detail, from the carved wooden handrail that accompanies the spiral staircase to the antique but well-preserved furniture that decorates the space. The atmosphere exudes an opulence that makes me feel even smaller and more insignificant.

''This way, dear.'' Mrs. Thompson's voice brings me out of my thoughts.

She starts walking, and I follow her down the wide corridor, past doors that lead to other rooms just as impressive as the hall. The silence is almost palpable, broken only by the soft sound of our footsteps on the marble floor.

''I'll show you your room. '' She says, as she leads me down a side corridor that seems more private.

We arrive in a quieter wing of the mansion, where the walls are adorned with delicate tapestries and the wooden floor is covered with soft rugs. Mrs. Thompson stops in front of a discreet door and opens it with a smile.

'' This will be your room.

I enter the small room, surprised to see how welcoming it is. The room is simply but tastefully decorated. The dark wooden bed is covered with a soft white quilt, and there is a comfortable armchair next to a window overlooking the garden. A spacious closet occupies one of the walls, and a small table with a mirror completes the room. The soft light coming in through the window creates a cozy and peaceful atmosphere.

''You can put your bags on the bed, dear,'' said Mrs. Thompson, still with a motherly smile on her face. ''I'm going to show you the rest of the mansion and explain a few things. I know you must be tired, but I'd better explain everything now.

'' No problem, ma'am. '' I reply, trying to control the nervousness in my voice.

I put my suitcase on the bed, as she instructed, and followed her as we left the room. She begins to guide me through the mansion, each new room more impressive than the last.

First, we pass the kitchen, a large, well-lit room with modern equipment and impeccable stainless steel surfaces. Everything looks shiny and organized, clearly a place where perfection is expected.

“This is the kitchen,” explains Mrs. Thompson. ''Here, the chefs prepare the meals for Mr. Darkmore, but you won't have to worry about that part. Your work will be more related to cleaning.