The mansion was eerily quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Glenn sat in his leather armchair, a glass of wine in one hand and a cigar smoldering in the other. His gaze rested on the flames, but his thoughts were far from the warmth of the fire. They drifted to Luciana, the enigmatic woman who had served him for years yet remained an unsolved puzzle.
Luciana was unlike the others who worked for him—submissive but not broken, graceful yet distant. There was a quiet strength to her that fascinated Glenn, though he'd never admit it aloud. He often wondered what secrets she kept hidden behind her calm demeanor, what stories lay buried beneath her obedient facade.
To Glenn, everyone was a tool, a means to an end. His wealth and influence afforded him a life of indulgence, and he saw no reason to question the morality of his actions. Morality was for the weak, for those who lacked the ambition to rise above the masses. Yet, Luciana tested his resolve in ways he didn't fully understand.
He exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it curl and dissipate in the dim light. Luciana's quiet defiance intrigued him. She wasn't like the other maids who scurried about, terrified of his wrath. She didn't flinch under his gaze or cower at his commands. She obeyed, yes, but there was a fire in her that refused to be extinguished. It was maddening and intoxicating all at once.
But tonight, Glenn had seen something different in her. When she returned from her nightly excursions, there was a flicker of guilt in her eyes, a hesitation in her step. He had long suspected she was hiding something—something important. Glenn wasn't a man who tolerated secrets, especially not from those in his employ.
He took a sip of his wine, savoring the bitterness as it slid down his throat. Luciana's secret was a challenge he was determined to unravel. He had built his life on uncovering treasures, on collecting the rare and the extraordinary. If Luciana was hiding something, it could only mean one thing: she had something worth hiding.
His thoughts drifted to the few times he had caught her slipping out of the mansion, her movements careful and deliberate. Where did she go? What could she possibly be doing in the dead of night? Glenn's curiosity burned brighter with each passing day, his desire to control her growing with it.
She was beautiful, he couldn't deny that. Her dark hair framed a face that was both delicate and strong, her eyes always guarded yet filled with an unspoken sorrow. She moved with a grace that belied her station, a quiet confidence that set her apart from the others. Glenn had often wondered what it would take to break her completely, to see that fire in her eyes extinguished.
But breaking Luciana wouldn't satisfy him. No, he wanted more. He wanted to own her, to strip away the layers of mystery and lay bare the truth of who she was. He wanted to see her kneel before him, not out of fear but because she had no choice, because he had taken everything from her.
Glenn leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He thought of the way she looked at him tonight, the faint defiance that lingered even as she submitted to his touch. She was his, whether she admitted it or not. And yet, she still managed to keep him at arm's length, to guard her heart even as she gave him her body.
It wasn't enough.
He would find her secret, no matter what it took. And when he did, he would use it to bind her to him forever. Glenn had no illusions about love or affection—those were weaknesses he had long since discarded. But power? Power was eternal, and he intended to wield it over Luciana until there was nothing left of her but a shadow of the woman she once was.
He smiled to himself, a cold, calculated smile. "You can't hide forever, Luciana," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. "Sooner or later, I'll have all of you."
As the firelight flickered across his face, Glenn felt a strange sense of satisfaction. Luciana might think she could outwit him, but she would learn, as all the others had, that no one defied him for long.
Still, a part of him—the part he refused to acknowledge—felt a strange pang of something resembling admiration. Luciana was a fighter, even if she didn't realize it. She had a resilience that both frustrated and intrigued him.
But Glenn wasn't a man who admired strength for its own sake. Strength, in his eyes, was a tool to be used, a resource to be exploited. And Luciana's strength would be no different.
For now, he would wait. He would let her believe she had the upper hand, let her think she could keep her secrets hidden. But Glenn was nothing if not patient. And when the time came, he would strike.
Because in the end, everyone had a price. And Glenn always got what he paid for…