Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 364

Chapter 364

Sophia’s POV

I woke to the sound of a car engine starting in the driveway below.

My eyes cracked open, gritty and swollen from too little sleep and too many tears I’d refused to let fall. The bed beside me was still warm–Lucas had been there, then.

Below, Lucas was sliding into the back of a black SUV, his movements crisp and efficient even at six forty–five in the morning. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching the empty driveway, and tried to decide if I felt relieved or abandoned.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my spiral. Margaret entered a moment later, carrying yet another tray laden with food I wouldn’t eat.

“Good morning, Miss Cruz,” she said, her tone as professionally warm as ever. “Mr. Reynolds asked that I make sure you came down for breakfast this morning.”

I turned from the window, taking in her perfectly pressed uniform, her serene expression, the way she set the tray down as if this were all perfectly normal. As if I weren’t a prisoner in this gilded cage.

“He just left,” I said flatly.

“Yes. He had an early meeting in the city. But he’ll be back this evening.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “Give me ten minutes.”

When I finally made my way downstairs, the first thing I noticed was the guards. Yesterday there had been three stationed around the property. Now there were at least six, positioned like sentries guarding a fortress.

The second thing I noticed was the commotion.

A team of workers in matching uniforms was moving through the house with military precision. They carried rolls of padding, foam corner guards, and industrial–grade safety equipment. The sound of power tools filled the air.

I stopped halfway down the stairs, watching in growing horror as two men wrapped the wooden banister–the same banister I’d tried to throw myself against last night–in thick, quilted fabric.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, my voice cutting through the sounds of drilling.

One of the workers glanced up briefly. “Safety modifications, ma’am. Mr. Reynolds‘ orders.”

Every modification was another message from Lucas: You’re not going anywhere. You can’t hurt yourself. You belong to me now.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, sinking into one of the high–backed chairs–noting that even these had been fitted with extra cushioning.

“You need to eat,” Margaret replied gently. “For the baby.”

There it was again. For the baby. Those three words that apparently justified everything–the guards, the padding, the constant surveillance, the complete annihilation of my autonomy.

I picked up a piece of toast and forced myself to take a bite, chewing mechanically while workers passed by carrying more supplies.

Each roll of padding felt like another nail in my coffin.

“Margaret,” I said carefully. “You don’t need to hover. I’m perfectly capable of eating breakfast on my own.”

“Mr. Reynolds asked me to stay with you,” she replied. “To ensure your safety and comfort.”

“Stay with me,” I repeated slowly, the implications sinking in. “As in, follow me around all day?”