Mrs. Jones led her to a room at the end of the hallway, pushing the door open to reveal a cozy, well-furnished space. The bed was large and inviting, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room. A soft armchair sat by the window, offering a view of the lush garden outside.
"This will be your room for the night," Mrs. Jones said gently, stepping aside to let Angela enter. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll bring you some fresh towels and anything else you need."
Angela nodded, stepping inside and placing the clothes on the bed. She hadn't realized how tired she was until now. The exhaustion from the day's events suddenly hit her, her muscles aching from the tension she had been holding all day.
"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," she said quietly, grateful for the kindness. "I'm not sure how to thank you."
Mrs. Jones gave her a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me, dear. Just take care of yourself. That's all that matters."
With that, the elderly woman gave a slight bow and left the room, closing the door behind her. Angela stood in the middle of the room, her gaze drifting toward the window. The world outside seemed so far away, distant and untouchable, and for a moment, she allowed herself to simply breathe, to feel the weight of the day settle into her bones.
But as she sat down on the bed and removed the wet clothes she had been wearing, her thoughts drifted back to Lyan. "What's his story? What was it that had made him stop and help her in the first place? Why is he afraid of anyone getting close to him?"
Just then, Mrs Jones entered again with a pair of towels and a glass of water. She set them down on the bedside table with a quiet efficiency, her movements calm and deliberate. "Here you go, dear," she said softly, her gaze lingering on Angela with a sense of understanding. "You'll feel better after a warm shower. Take your time."
Angela gave a grateful nod, her words caught in her throat as she took the towels.
Mrs. Jones seemed to sense her hesitation. "You've been through a lot, haven't you?" she asked gently, her voice low and empathetic.
Angela paused, her fingers curling around the towels. She hadn't spoken about her past, not to anyone, and yet the woman's question seemed to pull at something deep inside her. "How much should I trust this stranger?" She nodded without more words.
Mrs Jones smiled and left the room. Angela placed the towels down on the bed and stood up slowly, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were tired, shadows under them revealing the strain of the day. She had been through so much in such a short time, and yet, here she was—safe, warm, cared for. It was almost unreal.
Angela picked up her phone and typed a message to her mother. "Mom, find somewhere to hide. I escaped, and "I escaped, and I'm afraid Anthony might come after you."
She waited for her mother's response, but it did not come. She then sent another one, "I am safe. Don't worry."
She set her phone on the bed and decided to shower first.
Angela stepped into the bathroom, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the lavish surroundings.
"Wow! This is so beautiful!" she breathed, barely believing her eyes.
The bathroom was nothing like she had ever seen before—spacious, with polished marble countertops, a large freestanding tub, and a rain shower with glass walls. Soft lighting illuminated the room, casting a serene glow on the intricate details of the design.
For a moment, she stood frozen, taking in the luxury of it all. It felt like something out of a movie, a world far removed from the one she had known.
"Wow!" She said glancing at the array of toiletries neatly arranged by the sink—premium soaps, shampoos, and lotions she had only ever seen on high-end advertisements. It made her feel out of place, but also... cared for. "Can't believe I am living like a queen! "Angela—the new queen in the city," she giggled to herself.
She sighed and stepped into the shower, the warmth of the water instantly soothing her muscles. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time in what felt like forever.
Lyan and Andrew had just wrapped up a long conversation about business.
When Andrew was about to leave, Lyan stopped him. "I want you to find everything you can on Ms Angela. Have it on my desk by morning."
Andrew nodded without hesitation. "As you say, sir."
"Good. You can leave now." Lyan said.
Andrew gave a brief nod before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as Lyan's words played in his mind. He had never seen his boss care this much about anyone, let alone a woman.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Lyan's expression grew more contemplative. He walked slowly toward the window, gazing out at the quiet night. His mind was racing, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Angela than met the eye.
Back in the guest room, Angela stepped out of the shower..., and the next thing she wanted was to lie down and sleep. She changed into the clothes she had been given earlier and slipped into bed without a second thought.
"Rest well, Angela," she murmured to herself.
When Mrs Jones came to wake her up for dinner, "My dear!" she called as she entered the room.
No one responded. She found Angela fast asleep. She smiled softly as she looked at Angela, sleeping peacefully for the first time in what seemed like forever. She had seen many guests come and go in the years she had worked for Lyan, but there was something about Angela that felt different.
"I will leave you to rest!" She said to Angela even though she wasn't listening.
With a quiet step, she exited, leaving Angela to her rest
Downstairs, the table was set—simple but elegant, just as Lyan preferred. Mrs. Jones took a step back, a small sigh escaping her lips. She had seen him struggle with opening up to others, especially since his father's passing. Perhaps Angela would be the person to help him find peace, in her own way.
After a few moments, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Lyan entering the dining room, looking more composed than he had in hours.
"Everything's ready, sir," Mrs. Jones said, gesturing to the table with a polite nod.
Lyan's eyes flicked to the empty seat across from him. He hesitated for just a moment, before sitting down. His mind was still preoccupied by workloads.
"Why is there only one plate? Where's Ms. Angela?" Lyan asked.