Naomi's heart was heavy with fear and desperation as she stood before David, her voice trembling with emotion. "My mother is gravely ill, David," she pleaded, her words laced with a mix of urgency and sorrow. "How can I work for you and not be able to see her? Please, reconsider this decision. I can't bear the thought of leaving her in this state."
David's jaw tightened, his patience wearing thin. He had warned her before, but she had ignored his command. Now, she had pushed him too far. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over. "You signed a contract with me, Naomi," he said coldly, his tone chilling as his eyes narrowed with disdain. "Not with your mother. The terms are clear, and they must be followed. This is the last time I'll entertain such a request. So, I'll ask you one more time—are you in, or are you out?" His voice was an iron command that left no room for negotiation.
Her hands clenched at her sides, but the weight of his words crushed her resolve. She couldn't refuse—she had no choice. "What about my clothes?" Naomi asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still holding on to one last thread of hope. "How am I supposed to work without anything to wear?"
David's lips curled into a twisted smirk. He had planned this all along, and the certainty in his voice was enough to make Naomi shudder. "Don't worry about that," he said. "I've already made arrangements. You'll have everything you need. But know this—what lies ahead is far more than a new wardrobe."
She swallowed, the weight of his words sinking deep into her bones. It was as if she was stepping into a trap she couldn't escape. "Alright, my Lord," Naomi whispered, the defeat in her voice unmistakable. The words tasted like ash in her mouth, but she had no other choice.
David's grin deepened, satisfaction radiating from him like a dark aura. "Good. Now step forward. We leave now."
As they walked out of the building together, Naomi's eyes widened in disbelief. Three Rolls-Royce Phantoms stood parked outside, gleaming under the harsh city lights. The chauffeurs stood by the doors, ready to serve. She froze, momentarily stunned by the sheer luxury surrounding her. Naomi had known David was wealthy, but seeing his wealth up close, in such an extravagant form, was overwhelming. It felt like she was stepping into a world far beyond her own—a world where everything, and everyone, could be bought.
"Keep moving," David's voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and demanding.
Naomi shook herself from her trance and walked forward, feeling his presence behind her like an invisible force. As they approached the car, the chauffeur smiled at her, his expression warm, but it quickly faded when David entered the vehicle. Naomi couldn't help but feel the icy grip of fear settle deeper in her stomach. What had she gotten herself into?
"Take us to the best boutique in this city," David barked at the driver, his words like the snap of a whip. Naomi barely had time to process the command before the car was in motion, speeding through the city's streets.
David sat in silence, a cigar clutched between his fingers, exhaling smoke in thick, lazy clouds. Naomi watched him from the corner of her eye, trying not to make her curiosity obvious. His calm demeanor only seemed to heighten the tension in the car. He was a man who had mastered control—over everything and everyone. What could possibly make someone like him so powerful? So untouchable?
She had left him years ago when he was just a university student with grand dreams that seemed impossible. And now, here he was—ruthless, unbending, a man whose very presence could command a city. Naomi's heart twisted as she realized just how far he had come—and how much further he would go to get what he wanted.
David broke the silence, his voice smooth and foreboding. "Your duties to my son will be the most important you'll ever undertake," he said, his eyes never leaving the window. "He's... difficult, to say the least. Antisocial. Closed off. He won't talk to just anyone, but you—you will be the one to break through to him."
Naomi frowned, confusion lacing her features. "How? Why not get him a therapist? I've never done anything like this before, David. I'm not... I'm not some expert on children. How am I supposed to help him?"
David's fingers tightened around his cigar, the veins on his hand straining against his skin. His jaw clenched, and Naomi could see the flicker of anger in his eyes. She had gone too far. She had asked the wrong question.
"You will learn," he said coldly, his voice a low growl. "You will learn how to handle him, and you will do it well. You will be his guardian, and he will be your superior. Your job is to make him happy. To make him feel something—anything. If you fail, you will pay the price."
Naomi swallowed hard, her throat dry. His words hung in the air like an ominous threat, each syllable laced with malice. "Yes, my Lord," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she fought to keep the fear from her voice. There was no room for failure here. Not in this world.
"And don't forget," David continued, his eyes narrowing as he turned to look at her, "there will be consequences if you dare defy me. I will punish you for every mistake, for every disobedience. You wouldn't want that. I suggest you work with all your heart, Naomi."
Her stomach churned at his words, but she kept her face neutral. She had no choice but to accept her fate. And then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And for your mother's surgery... I'll make sure it's taken care of. But only if you impress me. You have two weeks. If you fail, don't expect any more mercy from me."
For a moment, Naomi's heart leapt. Hope, fleeting and fragile, flared within her. The thought of her mother's surgery being paid for, of her getting the help she so desperately needed, gave her a sliver of hope. But before she could speak, David's icy gaze cut through her, and the smile that had started to form on her lips faded.
"You'll see your mother," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "But that's not for you to decide. You'll do exactly as I say, and when I decide you're worthy, I'll allow it. Until then, your mother is just another pawn in this game."
Naomi's heart sank. The fleeting hope that had sparked inside her was extinguished by the cold reality of her situation. "I'm sorry, my Lord," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
The car came to a sudden halt, and the driver announced, "We're here."
Naomi stepped out, her legs unsteady beneath her. The boutique before her was unlike anything she had ever seen—a palace of fashion, gleaming with opulence. As she walked inside, she knew in her gut that there was no turning back. She had entered a world of darkness and manipulation, a world where the price of failure was unimaginable.
She could only hope that the torment ahead would be a manageable kind of hell. But deep down, she feared it would be far worse than she could ever imagine.