The Wrong Man

Chapter 3

At the hotel, after Gin dropped me off earlier, I got recognized immediately and was taken into this hotel room where I was told when and where I will have to meet Joshua, and after informing me, they left without another word, leaving behind a file with things I should know while I'm here.

I already went through the file earlier and now I'm staring at my phone, expecting to see another mission request from my parents or the government, but for the first time since I left my city, my phone stays silent the entire time. I sigh and lay back on the bed feeling boredom succumb me, but since I have nowhere to go, I decide to take the time to go to sleep since I haven't slept in almost a full day.

I quickly shower, change into something else, and slip myself under the covers while glaring at the windows, doors, and ceiling. I've been engrossed in the g**g world for so long that it's hard to trust new places and be comfortable in them. It doesn't matter if my family set this room up to keep me safe until I get married. What if this is a trick to kill me without being suspected or―

Fuck, I need to go to sleep. The longer I stay up, the more on edge I get. And the last thing I need is to lose sleep from lack of trust, show up in front of Joshua looking unattractive, and expect the marriage deal to go through smoothly from there. 

But how can I relax enough to fall asleep?

"I usually don't do this but―" I mutter as I reach into my bag on the nightstand and take out my g*n, checking to make sure the safety is on before placing it under my pillow followed by my pocket knife. I sigh as I rest my head on the pillow again, clenching the closed pocket knife from under the pillow. 

I hold onto the knife for a few minutes while focusing on my breathing to calm my heartbeat and nerves, then once I feel tired enough to fall asleep, I let go of the knife, double-check that my g*n is under my pillow, and let my eyes flutter close, drifting into a deep sleep. 

When I wake up, I writhe a little in the bed, trying to get comfortable again before I slowly open my eyes, feeling confused at the sight of the bed but once realization sinks in, I sit up and look around the room in a panic, before climbing out of bed to check for cameras, spies, or traps to kill me. When I didn't find anything, I let out a breath of relief and sat back down on the bed, wiping a hand over my face. 

"They should've just had me live with Gin. This is nerve-wracking." I mutter, running my hand through my hair that has fallen out of its bun during the night. I think about living with Gin and shake my head at that option. "Actually, never mind, he might’ve made me regret not getting a hotel instead."

I check my phone and lay back on the bed, scrolling through the social feed mindlessly for an hour, until I decide to get up again to handle my business in the bathroom, making sure to take my toothbrush and essentials with me along the way. Then when I finish, I put my stuff back in my bag, and look at the breakfast menu for the cafe on the first floor. I decide to order room service since I'm still feeling tired from the flight here, and when the food arrives, I check it for poison or any sign of it being spiked before eating it, keeping the vaccine close by to use in case I’ve fallen for their trap.

After I finish eating, I wait for another hour for anything to kick in, but when nothing happens, luckily, I put the vaccine on the nightstand by my bag and put my dishes out in the hallway for someone to pick up later. I walk back to bed to sleep more and snuggle in the sheets, feeling less anxious but still on guard with my new surroundings. 

It doesn't take long for me to fall back asleep, and I let myself remain asleep until I can't sleep anymore. I stare out the window from the bed, realizing it's night time and climb out of bed to order room service and to put out the attire my mom told me to wear tomorrow night. I touch the fabric and bite my bottom lip to hold back tears. 

I never did get to finish high school, huh? And here I am, in another place, about to get married to some stranger I don't know. Life is harsh to me truly. 

"I love my life," I said dryly, walking to my luggage to take out the heels for tomorrow night, watching the small diamonds on them sparkle in the light. I smile at how beautiful they look and place them next to the dress, feeling ready, but then dread sinks in when I realize I forgot something. My lips press together as I slowly take out a lingerie set from my luggage and replay the words my mom told me before I left. 

'Try to make another heir after you meet him. Gin is taking too much time returning home.'

I hesitantly toss the set on top of the dress and I purse my lips at the sight in front of me. I feel against the marriage again, but there's nothing I can do, so to make myself feel better, I turn on the television to watch something to take my mind off the marriage for at least a few hours. 

The room service eventually came and I thanked the room service before sitting on my bed to eat my dinner, feeling a bit better than before.

After I finish eating, I continue to watch more television, investing myself in a show that distracts me for a few hours, before a knock on my door makes me nearly jolt out of my skin. I get up from the bed and walk to the door. 

I didn't call for anyone, right?

I peek out the peephole to see room service. I let out a sigh and opened it. "Is something the matter?" I ask them. 

"I was wondering if you finished so I can collect the dishes." They reply in a monotone while looking exhausted. Her eye bags make her state more apparent but to save her the embarrassment of her appearance, I keep my mouth shut and nod in response, retreating into my room to grab the dishes to hand her. She thanks me, tells me to have a good night, and walks away down the hallway. 

"I hope she gets some sleep tonight," I mutter, shutting my door to return to my show. 

Before I knew it, it was two in the morning and I had finished my show in one sitting. I stretch my limbs and go to the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. I do my hair as perfectly as I could then tie the rods in to keep the curls tight for tonight. 

I put a shower cap on my head to keep them from messing up in my sleep and went to bed after checking that my g*n was still under my pillow. 

If I'm this on edge, I wonder how I'll be over there.

I fall asleep again and when I wake up, I eat a small breakfast and lunch to keep myself from bloating before the party, and when the time came to leave, I was already dressed, feeling a bit uncomfortable, but I kept my face emotionless the entire time the limo arrived to take me to the grand hall for the party. 

I hold my bag close to me, trying to calm my heartbeat as the chauffeur drove. 

The moment the exterior of the grand hall comes into view, I take in a deep breath, still nervous out of my mind, but I keep my emotions hidden as the chauffeur opens the door for me. I thank him and slowly walk inside, hoping Joshua is not like any of my family members.

I round corners of the hallways, using the loud music as my guide to locate the party. I stop for a moment to lean against a wall, collecting myself to prevent crying and messing up my neatly done makeup, before resuming my journey there, ignoring the feel of my stomach twisting in distress as I think of my new life with this stranger. 

I still can't believe this… but I have to do this for our families. I have to fight through this anxiety to finalize the deal. There's nothing I can do so I need to tough it up and go in there without messing up. 

I can do this...

I finally enter the main part of the grand hall for the party, which is filled with people dressed casually. Several of the attendees are dressed vulgarly, while others wear clothing covering their skin ― probably the guests that tagged along as a pawn to be shown off by someone else ― My attire for the night is a light pink silk dress that falls beautifully at my hips, hugging my curvaceous form nicely, and it exposes my cleavage for all to see. Which instantly caught a few guys’ attention the moment my two-inch heels clicked into the buzzing room, making my stomach twist in nervousness. 

Where is my new husband?

“Ma’am?” 

I'm startled by a masculine, poised voice, and I sigh in relief when I realize it's one of the waiters. “Yes?” I reply, trying to even my breathing to steady my heartbeat. 

“Are you Seraphine White?” He asks. 

I hesitantly nod. “I am.” 

“Mr. Michaels is waiting for you in the hallway on the other side of the room.” He says, gracelessly directing me with a curt nod before extending his arm out to me. “Your jacket?” 

After slowly taking my jacket off, I hang it up on the waiter's arm before continuing inside, my form being judged and admired from every conceivable angle, making me feel compelled to run back to my hotel room. 

Who am I kidding? I’ll be safe for a few minutes before the family barges in to forcefully bring me into their home as the new Michaels family member.

I want to run away from this but I can’t afford to be stupid in this situation. Running away means challenging their patience and I’ll be punished for attempting to break my end of the marriage contract that I haven’t signed yet, but sadly, my family willingly filled the first part out for me to abandon me in this predicament.

While navigating my way through the gyrating bodies, I envision the life I'll be having with this mysterious man I've never met before. 

I don’t know what his age is or what he looks like. What if he’s a serial killer that slaughters his wives like in those stories? What if he’s abusive? What if he’s like my family as I feared? What if―

No, I can’t think like this again. My mind has already been tortured enough with thoughts. It is my responsibility as a teenager to accomplish this one important task for our families. There is no point in freaking out over something as simple as a marriage. 

The fact that I have no experience with boys other than those at my private school does not help either.

How will I approach him? What does he look like? How will I know which guy to talk to?

Well, my question is answered once I make it to the other side of the room, seeing a guy leaning against the doorframe with a female in front of him. He's the only guy over there besides the bodyguards so I walk up to him and his eyes avert to me as soon as I come into his view. 

"Who are you?" He asks but before I can answer him, he says, "Oh right, you're Seraphine, right?" 

"I am," I reply, trying not to look at the girl beside me. 

"You don't need to talk to me so just stick by my side the entire night. If you need to sit down, just go to table seven, alright?" 

I nod. 

He looks at me up and down, his gaze is unreadable as he did, but he doesn't comment on my looks as he turns back to his conversation with the other female. 

They flirt with each other shamelessly in front of me but I don't assume anything since he has a strong smell of alcohol coming off his breath, though his demeanor screams womanizer.

I can’t help but glance at the guy I'll be spending the rest of my life with and study his appearance. 

He's about six feet, tan, he has piercings, a neck tattoo, and dark brown eyes. He looks attractive but the question is: how old is he? 

"What are you staring at?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow at me before smirking. "Do you think that I'm handsome?" 

I bite back a scoff and shake my head. "Just wondered how old you were." 

"Seventeen," He admits, "And as for our marriage, think of it as a business deal only, since we're not sleeping in the same room unless the government decides to visit us or something." 

Perfect. I can have my own place to sleep. 

"Do you have any weird habits that I should know about beforehand?" He asks, waving the female goodbye as she tags along with a group of other females then shifts his attention back to me.

"Does knitting count?" 

"No, anything else?" 

"I sometimes prefer to hang upside down to think better." 

"What are you? A monkey?" 

I bite back a giggle. "I used to think that when I was a kid actually."

It looks like he heard it in my voice and grins. "That's cute, but try not to do that in front of others." 

"I won't." I always did it in my backyard and my room anyway.

"Good because the last thing I need is you messing up our image." He averts his gaze and looks at me again. "But how old are you? I meant to ask earlier."

"Sixteen." Why did he say that? I mean, I get it. He’s the main face of his family but he sounded imperious just now. Am I overthinking it?

"Really? You look older."

"Thanks." Maybe I shouldn’t judge him for his wariness about our images. He’s probably just cautious with everyone he meets. I can’t accuse him off the bat like that. 

"Well, let's go into the crowd and enjoy ourselves, but like I said, you don't need to talk to me." 

I nod. "I understand." 

We plunge into the crowd of people and Joshua doesn't waste time making conversation with everyone while I stay quiet by his side, occasionally saying 'hi' when greeted. Each time he greets me as his wife, I can tell he's still disappointed that I'm his wife but he already agreed to this marriage. 

However, he has the right to back out of this marriage because he was the one who agreed, so why is he still on board? Is there any benefit to him marrying me?

"How is your family doing, Seraphine?" Someone asks me, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

My heart stings at the word 'family'. "They're doing well," I reply dryly. 

“That’s good to hear.” They reply before turning their attention to Joshua again. “I heard you hired a new launderer, how good are they? On Milton’s level? Or are they on a newbie level?” 

“I’d say on a level where even the politicians won’t find out our transfers via data.” Joshua sounds like he emitted a fake laugh but is keeping the gentleman act for the alliance. “The FBI sure is a pain in the a*s so we have to hire the best when transferring our money.”

“Maybe I should hire them too. My men found a site where siphoned substances are worth over millions of dollars last week. I found a buyer but all I need is someone to laundry the process to my account.”

“We found some siphoned substances too.” Joshua emphasizes the word ‘substances’ by winking, stretching his lips into a slight smirk. “But we were smart and auctioned it, telling our loyal buyers to pay us in bitcoin instead of dollars. You can’t seriously forget how the stock markets are changing these days. It’d be a shame if your compensation from everything got halted because of your lack in skills in laundrying.” Joshua raises his wine glass to his lips. “But what do I know? I’m just a teenager, right?”

“You should keep your mouth shut, kid. The adults are more skilled in this field of work. You’re just here for your marriage, right? Focus on your arrangement and stay out of grown folks’ business.”

“Define ‘grown folks’ business’ because surely you haven’t forgotten who included a mere child in that business, right?” 

“You know what I mean, brat.” 

“Do I?” Joshua sneers, contemptuously quirking a brow. 

“If you weren’t a Michael, you’d be dead on the ground.” They grumble, shifting their gaze at me, shaking their head in disbelief. “Nothing’s worth being around this egoistical brat, believe me.” 

“Better be lucky my family’s investing in your shitty business.” Joshua scoffs at them. “Don’t forget who decided to keep you on your feet after you begged nonstop at their doorstep years ago.” 

They roll their eyes, lifting their glass to their lips. “That was before I knew what I signed up for.”

“The ‘Whites’ and the ‘Michaels’ are allying and here you are, just complaining. You better watch your mouth.” Joshua quips, his eyes contradicting his words from how cold they stare at them. Nice to know. Don’t piss off Joshua.

“I’m not complaining,” the person grins wryly, “I’m just saying what’s on my mind.”

Joshua silently stares at the person for a few seconds then briefly smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “It was nice meeting you.” He pulls me away from them to our table, sitting down with a low groan escaping his lips. He places his glass on the table and wipes a hand over his face, staring at the ceiling. He looks like he’s contemplating his life before his attention shifts to me, scrutinizing my features with a blank expression on his face. He licks his bottom lip and leans on his elbows, humming. “Have you ever had a boyfriend before?” 

I press my lips together, deciding whether or not I should be honest then reluctantly shake my head, shyly looking away. 

“Have you ever been on a date before?” He asks, still refusing to express his emotions. He looks at me, waiting on my answer. 

“I did for an assignment.” I admit, mentally cringing at the memory.  

“What about for personal reasons?” 

“I never thought about dating someone for the sole purpose of dating them.” 

“Do you know how to dress, act, and speak during a date?” 

“Depends. Is it a formal date, casual date, or just a last minute date?” 

“Just in general.” 

“I do.” I nod. “Do you?” 

Joshua cracks a small smile at that. “I do know how to.” 

“Um―” My gaze flickers from the gyrating adults to Joshua, grinning, “―what’s your favorite kind of date?” 

Joshua hums thoughtfully, looks down at his glass, then up at me again. “The kind of date that makes a girl comfortable enough to spend more time with me by the end of it.” 

“Now that I’m your wife.” My voice almost cracks saying the word ‘wife’. It sounds so unreal to me still. “Will we go on dates like that?” 

Joshua’s eyes briefly flicker with an ineffable reaction that makes me feel the need to divert the conversation, but he answers my question despite his obvious hesitation to reply to it. “Most probably.” He begrudgingly replies in a low voice. “So about the marriage,” I guess he doesn’t want to talk about that, “did your family tell you about your obligations?” 

“No.” My voice clips. I still feel a sense of hatred for them and hate how fresh the feeling is in my mind. 

Joshua quirks a brow at the tone of my voice but doesn’t say anything about it. He nods in understanding and looks at the people then looks at me again. “For the meantime, you’ll remain Seraphine White and will complete your high school classes to make sure that everyone that you know won’t deem your sudden marriage as suspicious.” 

“I do class online now.” I reply, looking down at the table. “So that’s no issue for me.”  

“Great,” Joshua picks up his glass, gulps the rest of his alcohol at once, and nods, gesturing for me to follow him, “let’s leave this place before I pass out drunk.” 

“Wait, did you drive here?”

Joshua chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I had my driver bring me here.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, he’s a weird guy,” Now I’m starting to hear the drunkenness in his voice, “he says what he’s thinking a lot, cracks jokes, and love working out in our gym after breakfast and dinner. He keeps a mask on to hide his face and only takes it off if he’s eating or washing. We had him around for a while and my parents cherish the hell out of him.”

I follow him out of the building, listening to the sound of my heels clicking against the ground. “What’s his name?” 

“Aux.” Joshua fumbles with his phone, lazily typing a message. “He says it was originated in the Phillipines and that his parents wanted a unique name for him.” 

“Is Aux just his name?” 

Joshua shrugs. “He says he doesn’t have a last name to give.” 

I purse my lips, watching Joshua’s eyes stare at his phone, reading a message from someone.

“Sir,” a low-bass, deep voice startles me out of my thoughts, followed by a deafening gunshot that makes my ears ring from how close the bullet passes me. I look behind me to see the person from earlier sprawled on the ground, laying in their blood, with a g*n falling out of their hand. “You need to be aware of your surroundings.” 

Joshua scoffs, walking around the man wearing a black turtleneck sweater with black jeans. The man’s mask covers most of his ivory face and only his discolored eyes are in view. “Don’t tell me what to do, Robert.” 

“It’s Aux, sir.” The man says impassively, putting away his g*n. 

“Alright, astronaut.” Joshua slurs, chuckling at something on his phone screen. “Take my wife and I home―” Joshua’s knees buckles and just before he falls, the man that goes by Aux catches him with one arm. 

“He rarely drinks.” Aux sighs in resignation and lifts Joshua over his shoulder, walking toward a limo. “Since my boss is out of commission for the night. I’ll be the one to show you around the house. Mr. and Mrs. Michaels are out for the week on a business trip so please rest assured.” He opens the car door and carefully places Joshua in the backseat, buckles him in, and closes the door with another sigh. “And you are Ms. White, correct?” 

“I am.” I say, awkwardly standing behind Aux. 

He extends his gloved hand out for me to shake. “You already know who I am. I’m Aux. Nice to finally meet you.” 

I accept his hand and briefly shake it. “Seraphine.”

Aux motions me to sit next to Joshua and climbs into the driver’s side to drive away from the building. “They already have your things so we’re going straight home.” He says, reading my mind. 

I nod. “Okay, thank you.” 

He glances at the rearview mirror and speeds up. “I’m not really one to pry into someone’s moods but if you want to talk while Joshua is asleep. I’m here to listen.”  

I clench my dress with my slight trembling fingers. The feeling of timidness still lingers inside of me. “I’m just anxious,” I admit. “It’s nothing.” 

“How is this nothing?” He asks. 

Fearing he’ll say something about me being away from my family, I turn my gaze to the window to try to cancel his words out, but gratefully, he says something else; 

“It’s marriage,” he says in a soft tone, “and marriage is nerve-wracking, right?” 

I turn my head to look at him again, nodding. “Yes.” 

“Things will get better.” He promises. “Give it time and patience. Though, I can’t promise anything too extreme like unconditional happiness or anything like that. I can promise that you’ll feel at home there.”

“How blunt.” I almost laugh but the timidness keeps me from doing so. “I never really had happiness. I have some people to make me smile here and there, but that’s all I can say to that kind of thing.” 

“It takes time to feel.” He says in a distrait tone. “I haven’t felt it but working with the Michaels,” he sighs, pausing for a few seconds, “it gives me something to feel besides anything else.” 

“Do you like working for them?” I ask, trying to divert the topic. 

“I do.” 

“Is it fun?” 

He chuckles softly, shrugging with one shoulder. “I don’t know how to define ‘fun’ with this kind of métier but, yeah, it does make you feel the adrenaline rush that fun gives you.”

I emit a half-suppressed laugh which makes Aux look relieved. Or at least, I think he does. It might just be a false impression since I can’t see his face, but the way his fingers loosen their grip on the wheel just a bit; I have a feeling he was a bit on edge to see if I wouldn’t feel comfortable. I guess first meetings with people associated with the family don’t end well half the time assumingly. 

“I…” I look out the tinted window, sighing, “I don’t really define what I do as fun either,” I shift my attention to him again, “but hopefully, as Joshua’s wife,” I look at the ring on Joshua’s left hand, feeling nervous at the cognizance of this proxy marriage, “I’ll learn to enjoy it with him.” 

When my parents broke the news to me, they also revealed that this arranged marriage was going to be a proxy marriage for the sake of saving time. They didn’t want to tackle the wedding and everything so they made sure no one could see the bride’s face during the ceremony. I honestly felt two emotions at that moment. Relieved and disappointed. I felt relieved to not marry someone I’ve never met in front of others, but I also felt disappointed; I wanted to experience a wedding of my own. 

But not all fantasies are realistic as to how books interpret them. 

I wish life was like that. It might give me the chance to breathe better for the first time in my entire lonesome life. 

“Joshua will be a… great husband.” Did he hesitate to say ‘great’? No, I must be tired. 

“I’m sure he will. He seems like a nice guy.” 

“I hope you two stay happily together for the remainder of your lives. It’s not every day to see two teenagers in a marriage.” 

“You must be an old guy to be talking like this, right? I’m a sixteen year old marrying a seventeen year told so it must sound like a weird generation thing to you.” 

“You make me sound old for a seventeen year old.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Ah, you must not have put two and two together yet. Let me explain. I joined the family at a young age. Coincidentally, I was the same age as Joshua back there, just a few weeks older. I entered the Michaels’ lives and didn’t hesitate to work hard to become the amazing man I am now.” 

“By amazing, do you mean an egotistical man?” 

“Who knows?” He shrugs, “maybe I’m just a man that’s confident.” 

“I bet your girlfriend begs to differ.” 

“Oh, that,” he chuckles, “I’m single.” 

“Oh, sorry. I just thought…” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not interested in romance right now. I’m more interested in assisting the new member of the household to the best that I can without fail.” 

“Will I get a ring?” I ask, touching my bare ring finger. 

“You will.” He replies thoughtfully. “It’s actually in Joshua’s pocket.” 

“Wasn’t that supposed to be a surprise?” 

“I don’t keep surprises. I spoil them.”

“I can see that now.” I quip, glancing at Joshua from the corner of my eye. 

“You should let him put the ring on your finger when the time comes. I think he wants to do it somewhere nice.” 

“Are you planning to spoil every little detail of Joshua’s surprise for me?” I ask dryly. 

“I believe so.” 

“Noted,” I shift my attention back to Aux, “I’ll try to act surprised.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be surprised genuinely.” 

“I guess I’ll find out once it happens.” 

“You will.” 

***

“This sprawling home has a total of eight bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and five acres of lushly landscaped property. It features antique fireplaces straight from foreign lands, an antique wine cellar, a fully-equipped theater, two gyms, and an eight-car garage with three limo-sized spaces.” Aux says, driving past the gate and onto the stunning property at a slow speed to allow me to look at everything I can before we make it to the home. “Each butler and bodyguard has a space to sleep in either within the home or closeby within the a few mile radius. Everyone shares a room with someone else, including me, and that’s to either save money for their own home or just to savor the mansion.”

“Is the gyms inside the home itself?” I ask, eyeing the beautifully done lawn and garden as we drive to the mansion, rounding the water fountain to park in front of the entrance. 

“One of them is.” Aux turns off the limo and sighs, resting his elbow on the passenger seat. “The other one is behind the mansion where I go to mostly.” 

“Are there any rules set for me?” I ask, prepared to relapse back to my old way of living. 

“You’ll have to ask Joshua that question,” he opens his driver's side door and gets out, rounds the limo, and opens my door, leaning against it, “I can only tell you that wild and unruly behavior is not tolerated here.” 

“Oh…” I slowly step out of the limo, taking in the new environment I’ll be living in for the rest of my life. It is very beautiful. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Aux closes my door and gestures to the mansion in front of us. “You get to live where people like me will serve you, take care of you, and guard you against insects.” 

“I take it that you’re not talking about the creatures, right?” 

“In my perception, they are creatures. Very persistent ones that would do anything to get what they want.” 

“I see you deal with them a lot.” 

“Too many times to count it as unlucky. Just an annoying routine for me.”

“I see…” I try not to laugh as Aux rounds the limo to get Joshua and toss him over his shoulder to carry him to the door. I follow close behind and watch as Aux raises his knuckle to knock on the door in a specific rhythm. It sounds like a morse code from the short signal of his knocks.

When Aux withdrawals his hand, the door opens two minutes later, revealing a woman dressed in a tux with her coarse hair tied back in a slick bun. She moves out of the way so Aux and I can walk through, slightly bowing to me while muttering an obsequious, “welcome,” to me, closing the door the moment I walk fully inside. 

The woman stands stiffly next to the door with her arms crossed over her chest, staring straight ahead of her with a blank expression. 

“That’s Minnie.” Aux says, approaching the foyer’s ornate wrought iron railing staircase with Joshua still slumped over his shoulder. 

“It’s Amina.” The woman corrects Aux, grinning at the informal nickname. 

“I’m aware.” Aux says, matter-of-factly.

“You know what, Aux,” Joshua mutters, groaning as Aux begins to ascend the stairs up to the second-story foyer, “I bet you don’t know how to have fun.” 

“That’s not in my job description, Joshua,” Aux says, making it up the stairs and walks through the foyer, a few doorways, and enters a corridor where he opens the second door to the left. He turns on the light, revealing a large bedroom with dark blue painted walls and a magnetic-floating bed. 

Aux carefully places Joshua on the bed and removes his shoes so he can put Joshua under the comforter. He puts the shoes in the closet meticulously and walks out, closing the door behind him warily to not wake up Joshua. He motions me to follow him and guides me to another room down the corridor. He takes a sharp right and before he opens the door, he nods to the glass door that leads to a patio. “That’s where most of us loiter sometimes during lunch hours or to get a smoke.” He opens the bedroom door and turns on the light. “I don’t smoke unless I reach the point of needing to smell like s**t all day.” 

I nod briefly in understanding. “Got it.” 

I walk behind him to enter the bedroom to see my luggage inside and a contemporary canopy bed that’s California king size. There’s a black drape on the frame, partially covering the bed, matching the bed set.

“This is…” My words trail off as I look around the elegant bedroom. 

“The bathroom is through that door there,” Aux points in the direction of the door, “that’s your walk-in closet which will be filled with clothes once you’re properly measured,” he pats the door to the room, “and this has a lock on it. If there’s an emergency, one of us are allowed to enter using a key to escort you out to safety or to the hospital.” 

“Okay.” I nod, approaching my luggage. 

“Anything you need? Food? Water? Assistance in unpacking?” 

I reluctantly nod, feeling a bit embarrassed to admit that I forgot to eat. “I’m… hungry and thirsty… Thanks…” I mutter, looking down. “But can I watch them prepare my food? I don’t really… trust when my food is not done in front of me.” 

Aux is quiet so I leisurely look up to see him on his phone. He looks up at me and shows me his phone screen. “You can pick the menu item that you want and we can go get it as you request.” 

“Are you sure I’m allowed to? I don’t want to intrude the kitchen if I’m not supposed to. I can carry around my―” 

“It’s fine, Mrs. White. I promise it’s no issue.” Aux reassures, placing his phone in my hand. “I recommend the shrimp quesadillas with chicken tortilla soup. It’s quick to eat and it’ll keep you full for the night. You can also side it with potatoes and rice.” 

I nod, scrolling through the menu before deciding on Aux’s recommendation. It sounds good to try. “I’ll try it.” I hand Aux his phone back. “The shrimp quesadillas with chicken tortilla soup, I mean. I kind of want to taste this kind of dish.” 

“You never tried this before?” 

“Um…” I shake my head. “My… family thought it would add fat to me so I didn’t eat things like this.” 

Aux, sensing my discomfort talking about my family, nods in understanding, grinning, “I’m sure you’ll love it, Mrs. White. It’s a delicacy here.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” I tuck my hair behind my ear from the awkwardness and clear my throat. “Should we ― um ― go? To the kitchen?” 

“We should. My apologizes for stalling.” He walks me out of my room and tells me about the mansion on the way to the kitchen that’s a bit far from the room. 

A red-haired male that’s twirling a pocket knife between his fingers walks past us then turns around to pat Aux on the back. “Aux, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.” 

Aux gestures to me with a smile. “I was showing Joshua’s new wife to her room and now I’m taking her to the kitchen for some food.” 

The male looks down at me and smiles. “The name’s Dave.” He slightly bows and winks. “I take it that you are Mrs. White?” 

“I am.” I reply in a low voice, briefly caught off-guard by the kittenish manner. 

“Take care of Joshua.” He leans on Aux’s shoulder, jabbing his thumb up the stairs. “This place is your home and he’ll make it feel comfortable to live in.” 

Aux sighs and shrugs Dave off of his shoulder, patting the male’s shoulder. “Thanks but I think your shift ended.” 

“So cold, Aux. Learn to loosen up a bit.” Dave chuckles. 

“Dave, if you plan to execute your mission with no issues. I suggest you go to sleep.” 

“Fine.. I’ll only go because you insisted.” 

“I didn’t insist―” 

“Have a good night, Mrs. White.” Dave chirps, walking away from us to another part of the mansion. 

“That’s who I share my room with.” Aux sighs. “Try not to take his behavior too serious. He’s a bit playful and teases a lot.” 

“I see you care about him.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

I faintly smile at that. “Aren’t all of you supposed to look away from the wife?” 

“That’s not our commandments. We’re allowed to look at the wife.” He opens the door to the kitchen. “If we weren’t allowed to look at the wife, we wouldn’t be able to protect her.” 

“I guess that’s true.”

Aux tells the chef to cook my desired choice of food while requesting that I watch them cook the meal up close. The chef agrees and I sigh an inaudible breath of relief. I thought for a moment that both Aux and the chef would’ve been satirical about it. I know it’s a bit anomalous but I can’t help it. I embedded the rule for so long that I developed cynicism over the years. 

And even if I explained why; I don’t think anyone would believe me. I was born to act perfect and withstand the reprehension of everyone. 

Who would believe someone like me?

“Mrs. White.” The chef opens the fridge. “Would you like a beverage until your meal is finished? We have all kinds of carbonated drinks, all brands of water, fruit beverages, and pre-made smoothies. Does any of these fancy your taste?” 

“Water.” I awkwardly sit at the island counter where I can see the stove. “Please.” 

“Any brand you like?” 

“Anything purified is fine.” 

The chef nods and grabs a twenty fluid-ounce bottle of purified water from the fridge, sliding it to me. I grab it as they shut the fridge. “Apologies, Mrs. White, It seems that I haven’t gotten rid of the bad habit.” The chef laughs dryly at his action and opens the freezer. “Do you want your shrimp quesadilla to be mild, spicy, or extremely spicy?” 

“Um…” I blink blankly at my water bottle, twisting the cap on and off of it, “mild, please.” 

“One mild shrimp quesadilla with chicken tortilla soup will be ready in a bit.” The chef states, laying out the ingredients and cooking necessities as they tell the voice assistant to play something calming. 

“Don’t judge the chef.” Aux whispers to me. “It’s a preference of song choice.” 

“I’m not judging. I like it.” I kind of need something calming right now anyway.

"Great because ambient is great for the mentality," Aux says, patting my shoulder before walking out of the kitchen.

"Wait. Where are you going?" I ask, turning in my chair to look at Aux. 

Aux hums and turns his head to look at me. "To make sure all parts of the house is secure. Do you want me to ask one of the butlers or bodyguards to stay in here with you?" 

"No, I just thought you were supposed to watch me." 

"Watch you?" Aux quirks a brow at that. "What for? Did Joshua request me to do so?" 

"No, he didn't." 

"Then it's perfectly alright to leave you alone like this, Mrs. White." 

"Okay." I slowly nod then turn around in my chair again. 

"Does Mrs. White want some bread as she waits?" The chef asks, sharping the knives. "It's served with various spreads like original butter and cinnamon butter." 

"No thanks." 

The chef wordlessly quirks a brow and hums. "Is Mrs. White allergic to anything before I begin?" 

"No, I am not." 

"Alright." Is all the chef says before they begin to cook the food while humming to the calming music that has me abstractedly tapping my finger to it, almost forgetting to watch the chef as my mind nearly muses into a world where this one doesn't exist.

This kind of music makes me want to imagine myself in a meadow alone, surrounded by flowers, at night time, staring up at nothing. Kind of like a dream. 

A dream where nothing can taint my mentality. 

But that’s not possible.