< Chapter 85
Chapter 85
Clair
1 stared around the store, my eyes lingering on all the new things that had come into existence while I was shut away. Everything looked brighter, livelier-almost foreign. Yes, Dylan had brought
designers to the mansion to make me feel like I still had access to the world, but it was never the
same. There’s a certain life that comes with being among people, seeing the real world, not just
what someone allows you to see.
No matter what, I had to find a way back home. I needed to know what had happened while I was locked away in that golden prison. Dylan always controlled what I saw, what I heard, what I wore.
He crafted a perfect illusion around me, one I was finally seeing through.
My father never called. Not once. And Maurice, that useless coward-he didn’t even try to reach me. We were never close, but still… he could have done something. He’s always been weak, too afraid
to stand against Father and me.
I wondered what Father would say when he saw me again-what kind of face he would make. Would he feel proud, ashamed, or indifferent? Did he even care? What had become of the Waterford Pack? What had he done with the money he got for selling me off like livestock?
A spark of rage flared in my chest. He’ll return every bit of it, I thought bitterly. I’m not a commodity
to be sold.
The memory of that day clawed at me-the way he had looked at me, with a smile that reeked of pride. As if selling me off to a stranger was some noble act. He had called me his jewel once, his precious daughter, but in the end, the only person he ever truly loved was himself-his ego, his
image, his power.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to face him. I wanted him to see what he had done with the so-called money. I wanted to tell him how much I hated him for what he’d turned me into.
The saleswoman’s voice broke through my thoughts, but I barely heard a word she said. My mind was spinning, plotting, calculating. The maid was right behind me, watching every move. The electric mode of my wheelchair had been switched off-they were pushing me manually. Smart move. They didn’t want me to have the freedom to roll away. But that wouldn’t stop me.
I picked up a beautiful dress, running my fingers over its fabric, and turned to the saleswoman with
a faint smile. “I’d like to try this on,” I said softly.
She nodded politely. “Of course, ma’am. This way to the fitting room.”
Perfect.
I turned to the maid. “You stay here,” I said, keeping my tone calm but firm. “She’ll assist me. She
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Chapter 85
Clair
knows the dress design better than you.” It was a ridiculous excuse, but I forced confidence inte
my voice.
The maid hesitated for a second, then bowed obediently. “As you wish, ma’am.”
I exhaled quietly as I followed the saleswoman toward the fitting room. My pulse raced, but I
masked it with a serene smile.
Once we entered, she closed the curtain behind us and held up the dress. “Would you like me to-”
I reached out and grabbed her wrist gently. Her head snapped down to me, startled, and that’s
when I whispered, my voice trembling, “Please… I need your help.”
Her eyes widened, confusion quickly replaced by concern. “Help? With what?”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. “Those people outside… they kidnapped me. Please-I need
to get away from them.”
Her face paled. “Kidnapped you?” she repeated in disbelief, lowering her voice.
Tears welled in my eyes, my words tumbling out in desperation. “Please. I’ll pay you-anything you want. Just help me get out of here before they realize I’m gone.”
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst. For the first time in years, I was so close to tasting freedom, if only she believed me.
The look in her eyes told me she believed me. Relief flooded through me so sharply that it nearly
knocked the breath out of my lungs.
“Then why don’t we go to the police?” she suggested softly, her brows knitted in worry.
I shook my head immediately, so fast that my hair fell into my face. “No,” I whispered, panic rising in my throat. “They won’t help. He’s… he’s a dangerous man. It would only make things worse.” My voice cracked as tears began to stream down my cheeks. “Please, I just need to get out of here as fast as possible. If they find out-” My words broke off into a quiet sob.
The saleswoman’s expression softened. She reached out, gently resting her hand on my shoulder, her touch surprisingly steady. “Alright,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “I’ll help you. But those two
guards and the maid-it won’t be easy to get past them.”
I nodded quickly, clutching the edge of my skirt. “I know. Just… please. Do whatever you can. I’ll
handle the rest.”
For a moment, she just looked at me, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she were silently debating what to do. Then, without another word, she pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket
and handed it to me. “Here,” she said gently. “Wipe your tears. You’ll need to look calm if you want
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< Chapter 85
this to work.”
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