I lay down on top of the bed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to push this whole day behind me.
But it wasn’t over yet.
I still had dinner to look forward to.
I stayed where I was, feeling so goddamn hopeless, I didn’t know what to do.
I had been helpless my entire life.
I had been beaten down and broken, just the way my father wanted me to be, and now … I was just tired.
Things hadn’t been the same since my mom died.
She might have been in the same hopeless situation I was in now, but my mom had done her job to protect me from it. I realized my family wasn’t normal early on, but I still had somewhat of a happy childhood the first nine years of my life.
I closed my eyes as tears seeped through, falling down the side of my face.
A knock came at the door, and before I could open it, a maid—Rosie—walked in, carrying a pretty-looking red box in her arms. My door didn’t have a lock. Father didn’t permit it, which meant I had very little privacy in this house.
She wasn’t smiling, but then again, Rosie never smiled.
Her brown hair was curled and tied in a half ponytail, and though she spent most of her days cleaning up in this big house, she had on a full face of makeup.
I once caught her and my father fucking each other in his office. He hadn’t bothered to close his door, and Rosie saw me before I could move from where I had stood.
Ever since, she had been colder toward me, and I didn’t know why that was.
Was she jealous of all the things I had?
Did she know I would trade all these nice things for my freedom in a heartbeat?
I also knew my father gifted her with expensive jewelry every month or so. She was wearing an expensive diamond necklace right now, the large stone glimmering in the light.
“Your father asked you to put this on underneath your clothes,” she said, her expression unwelcoming as she set the box down on top of my bed.
I frowned, but she was already heading out, closing my door behind her.
I looked at the box in apprehension.
I didn’t likegiftsfrom my father.
With shaky hands, I removed the lid of the box and set it to the side before I saw what was inside.
Nausea clawed its way up my throat, and I clutched my neck, moving back a step.
What the hell?
I stared at the material.
Lingerie.
My father bought me lingerie.
And he wanted me to put this on underneath my clothes for dinner?
Why?
I was afraid of the answer.