The morning light poured through the tall windows, casting a pale glow across the room. For a few seconds, I just lay there, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that everything from yesterday had been a weird, overdramatic dream.
It hadn't been. Obviously.
I groaned and sat up, rubbing a hand down my face. The room was still painfully perfect—untouched, like something from a magazine spread. Definitely not mine. Not in any real sense.
Dragging myself out of bed, I showered, hoping the warm water might shake off the strange heaviness in my chest. It didn't, but I felt more human once I was clean and dressed in the clothes that had been neatly arranged in the closet. Everything fit like it had been tailored specifically for me. Probably because it had.
I was brushing my hair when there was a knock at the door
"Miss Mia?" Elena's voice came through, calm as ever. "Mr. Anderson has requested you join him for breakfast in the dining hall."
Requested. Sure.
I sighed, setting the brush down. "And if I say no? Do I get put on house arrest?"
Elena's lips twitched, amusement flickering across her face. "No, miss. But Mr. Anderson did insist."
Insist. Of course he did.
I exhaled through my nose, already feeling the weight of the day ahead. "Guess I shouldn't turn down a free meal, then."
Elena stepped aside, waiting patiently as I made my way to the door.
As I followed her through the grand hallways, I ran through my plan in my head.
Today, I was going to talk to Anderson. Not argue, not demand—just make it clear that this arrangement wasn't going to work.
I had my own life.
And I was going back to it
The walk to the dining hall was long, filled with silence except for the soft click of our footsteps against the marble floors. The mansion was just as overwhelming in the daylight—grand, spotless, and filled with more servants than I could count. Everything about it screamed power, wealth, and control. None of which I had asked for.
As we approached the massive double doors of the dining hall, two guards stationed outside pulled them open without a word.
Inside, the room was just as ridiculous as the rest of the house—high ceilings, elaborate chandeliers, and a dining table that looked like it belonged in a historical drama. A table so long that if I sat at one end and Anderson at the other, I'd probably have to text him instead of talking.
Speaking of Anderson—he was already seated at the head of the table, reading through some papers like this was just another normal morning. Aaron and Alex sat on either side, both glancing up when I walked in.
Alex smirked first. "Well, look who's finally awake. Thought we'd have to send a search party."
I rolled my eyes, pulling out a chair—not too close to any of them, but not far enough to make a statement. "Oh, please. After yesterday, I deserved to sleep in."
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "It's nine in the morning."
"Exactly," I said, reaching for a piece of toast.
Anderson set his papers aside, finally looking at me. "I assume you slept well."
"Like a baby," I deadpanned, biting into my toast. "Woke up every few hours questioning my entire existence."
Alex snorted into his coffee. Aaron just sighed.
Anderson, as usual, didn't react much. He just studied me for a second before picking up his own cup of coffee. "You'll adjust."
I set my toast down, leaning back in my chair. "Yeah, about that."...