Days turned into weeks, and Clara's time at the mansion became a blur. Benjamin kept his distance, only visiting her when necessary, but there was a constant undercurrent of tension between them. Every interaction felt loaded, every glance filled with unspoken meaning.
Clara's days were spent pacing the halls, staring out of the large windows that offered a view of the sprawling estate. She began to notice the subtle signs of Benjamin's presence—his scent lingering in the air, the faint traces of his footsteps on the marble floors. Despite her fear, she couldn't help but wonder what lay behind his hardened exterior.
One evening, as she walked through the grand hall, Clara saw him standing by the fireplace, his back turned to her. Without thinking, she spoke.
"Why me?"
Benjamin didn't turn around at first. But after a long moment, he spoke, his voice softer than usual. "Because you're not like the others."
Clara's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
He finally turned to face her, his eyes intense, yet strangely vulnerable. "You haven't lied to me. You haven't tried to manipulate me. I need that kind of honesty in my world."
Clara's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know if it was the way he looked at her or the strange softness in his tone, but for the first time since she'd been brought here, Clara felt like there might be something more to Benjamin than the ruthless man he let the world see.