Chapter 151
Claude frowned slightly, his expression a mix of irritation and resignation.
"I'll go and sort out your withdrawal from school tomorrow," he said briskly. "And as for Max, you'd best forget about him."
He shot me a cold glance before slamming my door shut with a resounding thud.
I wanted to check on Lydia and see if she was any better. The painkillers had been too weak. All we had was topical anesthesia for her stitches. She endured it without screaming. It must hurt even more.
But the metal anklet around my leg jingled when I tried to move. I had no choice but to hop to the door.
Lydia was curled up in a corner, her clothes torn to shreds. Ignoring the clinking of the chains, I rushed over to her but stumbled and fell hard on the floor.
The noise startled Lydia out of her daze, and she finally looked up at me before breaking into hysterical sobs. "Ms. Claire!"
"Lydia!" I crawled over. Seeing her tangled hair, her ripped clothes, and the marks of a beating, I realized the extent of her suffering.
I swore, "Has Claude lost his mind? How could he do this to you?"
Lydia's head moved in a nod and a shake, her voice stuttering, "Only if I get punished, he won't hurt my family. But Ms. Claire, escaping now seems impossible. I heard they've tightened security within two miles of the mansion. It's all Claude's people." While I was holding her, she instantly broke down crying. It pained me to see her suffer like this, still thinking of getting me out.
So today, I decided to stir things up
with Claude on purpose. If he actually went ahead with pulling out,
Max would definitely think
something was up. And if Max was
bothered by it, he'd start
around.
I was betting he cared for me. It couldn't just be about repaying a childhood favor. I had no idea why Max was getting close to me, but he would come for me.
Just then, a new maid entered. "Ms. Claire, Mr. Hart has assigned me to take care of your meals from today on. And Lydia, you're needed in the kitchen. Mr. Hart said he wouldn't tolerate idlers." The maid was polite to me but cold toward Lydia.
Fearing Claude's orders, Lydia struggled to get up, but I pressed her shoulder down. "You need to rest. Just make something simple for today. How can Lydia cook in her condition?"
The maid glared at Lydia. "Are you disobeying Mr. Hart's orders?"
Lydia shrank back, trying to stand. "I'll go."
"No, you won't." I snapped, turning to the maid. "Claude sent you to look after me, making me your priority. Do you want me to tell Claude you've been bullying me? Don't you see the situation? No matter what, only the servants would get punished. If I tell Claude now, do you think he would treat you differently than Lydia?"
ie
The maid's face went pale, and she stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. "Claire... Ms. Claire, I, um, I'll get on it."
"And ensure to cook Lydia's portion!" I asserted my dominance, realizing Claude, despite everything, wouldn't harm me.
He could hurt anyone but me. And though he seemed to fear my leaving or liking someone else, I mistook it for possessiveness. Then, it dawned on me that it might be love. But who would want this twisted love?
After the new maid left, Lydia held my hand, touching where it hurt in her fingers, and she looked down. "As long as you don't run, everything will be fine. No one else would be hurt. But it's you who suffers the most."