Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Our childhood houses hold all our deepest secrets…
For they’ve seen us grow up, and as such, they are witnesses to our lives.
And what person grows up without trauma?
That’s why we should be careful…
Because with a little digging, people might discover our greatest pain.”
Diana
Diana
“Well, that’s presentable enough,” I mutter to myself as I study my reflection in the mirror and run my splayed palms over my silky white dress that cascades down my form, leaving a huge split on the side.
It gives a peek of my thigh, hugging me so tight that it showcases every dip and curve that I wish to hide on most days.
However, when I entered the walk-in wardrobe, it had only this dress on a single hanger, along with a lingerie set and a nightgown. The silver heels stood underneath it, and I knew whoever picked it out had thought everything through because all the items matched.
As if it’s my wedding dress, and the bouquet lying on the bed finishes the composition.
Red roses, of course
I grab the brush from the nightstand and apply a little blush to my cheeks, then put more lipstick on. I haven’t slept, so my makeup is still fresh, and I still don’t understand why the hell I needed to change in the first place.
One might think I’m a real bride who is about to celebrate a special occasion and not the fake bride who has a grumpy asshole for a husband who can’t stand being in my company. And the worst part? I find him attractive despite all that.
I should finally invest in therapy again and study my daddy issues. That’s the only explanation for this kind of behavior. Maybe I have a thing for men who show zero interest in me? That’d be my attachment issues summarized with one single crush.
A loud knock echoes, and Matilda enters with two women trailing her.
The one wearing a standard black-and-white maid uniform introduces herself. “Hello, Mrs. Wright. My name is Anna, and I’m at your service.”
Say what now?
I look at Matilda because that’s probably another rule of hers.
Does she have some ancient book lying around giving her pointers, or does she come up with all this on her own?
“Anna will handle all your things and tasks. If you need anything, you call her. Not Leon.” She emphasizes his name, and I shrug.
I wouldn’t have called either way, but I’m curious to know why she’s so adamant about not bothering the butler.
Unless it’s another rule to follow? “And this is Ria. She will take your measurements now.” She points at the woman wearing a black dress and matching flats.
“My measurements?”
“Yes. She’ll be your personal shopper and stylist. Once she has your measurements, she’ll be able to bring you all the clothes you might need that would fit you and complement your beauty.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I have clothes at home.”
Ria and Anna share a look before casting their gazes down as Matilda frowns at me and goes to the bed where my black dress lies.
She picks it up and checks the material and the label.
“This is very cheap, and the color is washed out. If you wore it for your wedding, I assume that was the best dress you had.” I blink at her because, yes, that’s true.
I never had expensive clothes growing up anyway, as Father considered it a waste of money.
According to him, no matter what I wear, I’ll always be the daughter of a whore, so there was no point in trying to look classy.
Father is lucky he can still hold Grandma over my head. Otherwise, he’d be drowning his sorrows in alcohol along with Grant right now.
“Not all of us can afford designer clothes,” I finally say. Something crosses her face, but it’s gone so quickly I think I’ve imagined it.
“You’re a Wright now. Whenever you go out, you represent your husband and his family name. If you don’t look good, it reflects badly on him, and I won’t have the press spreading rumors about Orion that might harm him. He faces enough scrutiny as it is.”
My stomach flips at this. “What do you mean?”
She waves her hand. “Doesn’t matter. You will wear the clothes Ria chooses. You can bring your old clothes if you want, but you won’t wear them.”
At this moment, I understand two things.
Matilda has a soft spot for Orion, and whatever she does, she thinks about him first, which probably stems from the fact that he was hurt so badly in that fire all those years ago.
Reading between the lines, I assume the press hasn’t been kind to him. It never is when it comes to anyone’s looks.
And second, she considers me an extension of him, so she’ll be on my case twenty-four seven.
My every action will be studied under a microscope if I don’t put a stop to it now.
“Matilda, you are my grandma’s age, so I will show you respect, but that being said, it goes both ways.
I’m a grown woman, and you can’t order me around.
” She opens her mouth, but my splayed palm stops whatever she wants to say.
“I’ll wear the clothes and act accordingly when we are in public.
That being said, you won’t control me while I’m home, and you won’t throw the rules in my face every single time.
Because I don’t care about them.” Ria and Anna gasp. “Do we have a deal?”
Her nose twitches, and once again, she has this odd look in her eyes, but she finally nods. “We do. However, if we have guests over, you will listen to what I say.”
“All right.”
I hardly doubt Orion will want any guests since it will be impossible to fool them here.
She claps her hands. “Come on, girls, get to work. Ria, measure Mrs. Wright. Anna, go downstairs to tell them to serve dinner in five minutes, as everyone is ready.” The women spring into action right away.
Anna dashes into the hallway while Ria snatches the measuring tape and comes to me.
She swiftly takes the measurements, and it feels like she’s done in a flash.
“We’re all set. Any specific colors that you dislike?
” I shake my head. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.
” And she follows after Anna, leaving me standing there, speechless.
“Mr. Wright has arrived,” Matilda informs me, and my body grows hot at the thought.
I wish I could get under the covers and avoid this dinner so my body won’t come up with some new shameful reactions.
“And, for future reference, do not argue with me in the presence of other people.” She taps on my shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re not a doormat, though. Unfortunately, Angelica never learned, and she paid a high price for it.
” Another tap and she disappears into the hallway while I ponder her words.
Angelica’s marriage to Orion’s father must have been very complicated. He was a charming man who attracted women wherever he went. He had affairs left and right and a pregnancy scandal as well. My grandmother loved reading gossip columns in the newspapers, and he frequently graced their covers.
His wife, on the other hand, never made public appearances or gave any interviews, no matter how much popular magazines begged her.
Society always speculated on why she wouldn’t leave him even though she had all the means to do so. However, listening to how they speak about her… When a gentle soul finds a sadistic one, she almost has no chance to break the suffocating circle.
Like my mother.
She ran away from her abusive father and started working as an escort in search of a better life, only to fall for a heartless man who she decided to trap with a baby. He never claimed either of us in public and ignored her whenever she tried to approach him at such functions.
“Please stay.” Mommy drops to her knees, hugging Daddy’s legs as he tries to shake her off. “Please stay. It’s her fifth birthday. We are a family. We should celebrate it together.”
He leans forward and laces his fingers in her hair, making her cry out when he fists it hard and tilts her head back as tears stream down her cheeks.
His voice is so cold, I hug the fluffy bear tighter to my chest. “Know your place. We are not a family. You’re a whore, and that kid”—he motions with his head toward me—“is nothing but a nuisance to me. Don’t ever call my home again.
Unless you want to raise Diana on the streets.
” He pushes her away, and she finally lets go.
He walks away from our apartment, ignoring my mother’s loud sobs.
A bell rings through the hallway, snapping me from my memories, and a nervous laugh slips past my lips because I assume this is their way to tell me to hurry up for this dinner.
Living in this castle will be an entrapment in itself.
I finally get out, studying the interior design for the first time.
Dark green and black dominate the color scheme upstairs, where endless portraits hang on the walls, mostly of gloomy men standing behind their wives and staring into the camera lens. Some date back to the nineteenth century, which must be when this whole family tradition started for the Wrights.
Scanning them all, I don’t find the most recent one, so either someone took it off, or it never existed in the first place.
Maybe when a woman married beneath her status, it didn’t count for the family portrait.
The remaining rooms with black doors are shut. I still feel a light breeze on the soles of my feet, so they must clean them and air them out regularly. Although why one might need this many rooms is beyond me.
I pause by the stairs and glance at the right wing, noticing the hallway lights are dimmed there. Some of the wallpaper is torn, while the walls themselves are bare.
Strange-sounding classical music comes from within that should soothe me, because I like classical music. Instead, it creates this anxiety in the pit of my stomach that urges me to break all the rules and explore what goes on inside the right wing.