The sun shone brightly the next morning, casting its golden rays through the windows, creating an almost surreal calmness in the air. Ana lay curled up in bed, soundly asleep, her body still bearing the marks of the previous night's passionate encounter. Harry, however, had already left for work, his absence leaving the room unusually quiet.
Downstairs, news of Harry's nocturnal visitor spread quickly, reaching Old Madame. The matriarch's face lit up with joy as she received the tidings. "A night spent with Ana," she mused, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "It won't be long now before I'm holding my great-grandson."
Lady Mina, standing by with a worried frown, hesitated before speaking. "Isn't it a bit dangerous to have that girl so close to the heir, madame? The heir might fall for that girl. She's very charming, after all. If he gets too attached, it could create problems." Her words were filled with a palpable concern, a worry that ran deeper than just jealousy.
But Old Madame wasn't swayed. Her confidence in Harry was absolute. "I know my grandson well. His heart is as strong as mine. He knows what's important. That girl may be beautiful, but she will only be a fleeting distraction. After all, we'll ensure she's well compensated for her time with him. I owe him that for pushing him into marriage with Sasha. Perhaps, Soraya would have been a better match."
Lady Mina nodded, her unease slowly dissipating.
Meanwhile, in the guest room, Ana's eyelids fluttered open to reveal a world that seemed unfamiliar. Her surroundings were foreign, and she momentarily panicked before the realization hit her. She was in Harry's room—his bed. The events of the previous night rushed back in a torrent of memories. A smile crept across her face as she recalled the wild passion they had shared. But as she shifted under the covers, she winced, noticing the marks on her body. Love bites. Harry had truly been a beast last night, and yet, somehow, that didn't repulse her.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, feeling a flutter of anticipation. Nina entered, holding a bouquet of flowers, her face lit up with a bright smile.
"Good morning, Miss," Nina greeted cheerfully, her eyes twinkling. "These are for you."
Ana blinked, surprised. "For me?" she asked, pointing at herself.
Nina nodded and handed her the flowers. Ana sniffed the pleasant aroma before taking out the card. It was a simple note from Harry: Good morning, my dear. I had to leave early for work, but I couldn't bear to wake you. Sleep well, and I'll see you soon.
Ana's heart fluttered as she read the note. The sweetness of his gesture filled her with warmth.
"Miss is happy, yes?" Nina asked, her voice laced with curiosity. "Sir Harry cares about you a lot. He even made sure no one disturbed your sleep. Did you know that you're the first woman to sleep here with Sir Harry?"
Ana's eyebrows rose in shock. "Really?" she asked, incredulity clear in her voice.
Nina nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, and I think you should be proud of that. Sir Harry doesn't let just anyone into his personal space, especially his bed."
Ana's mind was spinning. Was it true? Was she really the first? The knowledge warmed her heart even more, her feelings for Harry deepening unexpectedly.
Before she could process the emotions swirling inside her, the door burst open, and a venomous presence filled the room. Sasha strode in, her eyes burning with jealousy. The sight of Ana, covered in love bites, sent a wave of fury through her.
Ana instinctively tried to cover her body with the quilt, but it was impossible to hide it all. The maids outside had already been whispering about Harry's night with her, and Sasha was not about to let this pass unnoticed.
Her eyes turned red with envy, but she quickly masked it with a wide, chilling smile. "I hear you warmed my husband's bed last night," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "That's... nice. Who knows? You might even be carrying our child right now."
Ana froze, her hand instinctively falling to her belly as she met Sasha's gaze with caution. The words hit her hard, and she looked at Nina for support.
Nina stepped forward, her posture defensive, her eyes narrowing. "You have no right to speak to Miss like that," she said, her voice low and protective.
Sasha chuckled, unbothered. "Oh, I don't bite," she said, her voice taking on a sickly sweetness. "I'm just excited about the possibility of a child." She emphasized the last word with a cruel twist of her lips before spinning on her heels and leaving the room.
Ana exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her chest tightened in fear as Nina turned to her. "Miss," she said softly, "you should be careful around Madame Sasha. I've never seen such hatred in anyone's eyes before."
Ana nodded, her mind racing. What kind of woman would say such things? And what did it mean for her future with Harry?
The scene shifted dramatically as Sasha drove in silence to a secluded villa in the outskirts of the city, far away from prying eyes. She stepped out of the car with a fierce, cold expression, her steps purposeful. The caretaker greeted her with exaggerated politeness, but Sasha barely spared him a glance as she followed him into the villa.
The stench of blood hit her as they descended into a dark dungeon. A figure lay chained to a torture rack, his body a grotesque mess of wounds. Blood dripped from his broken body, his face barely recognizable. The man's eyes glared at her, filled with malice, but his body was too broken to move.
Sasha approached him with a sickening smile, taking in the sight of his suffering. "I hope you've missed me," she purred, her voice full of cruel delight. "I've missed you, in my own way."
The man struggled against his restraints, his cries muffled by the gag in his mouth. Sasha's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction.
She turned to her lackey. "Bring it," she ordered coldly.
The lackey hurried off, returning with a metal bucket filled with sizzling lava. Sasha took a metal rod and plunged it into the fire, watching the iron glow red-hot. "Do you know what happened today?" she asked, her voice dripping with venom. "He slept with another woman. He touched her. But he wouldn't even look at me twice. And it's your fault."
The man's eyes widened in terror as Sasha slowly approached him, the hot iron rod in her hand. "You ruined everything for me," she whispered before plunging the rod into his chest. The man screamed in agony, but his cries were drowned by the horrific sound of his flesh burning.
Sasha stood over him, her smile widening as she watched the man writhe in pain. The more he suffered, the more satisfaction she drew from it.
"I'll make sure you never find peace again," she whispered, her voice icy cold.
Turning to her lackey, she said, "Take care of him. I want him to suffer endlessly."
As the lackey nodded, Sasha took one last look at the tortured man. Her expression was unreadable as she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the dungeon, leaving behind a scene of horror and despair.