Three weeks.
It had been three long, dragging, mind-numbing weeks since Julian Carter's visit, and yet his final words still haunted Rose like a cold whisper that refused to fade.
They know now.
She hadn't slept properly since. Not because of nightmares, but because of everything else. Every creak in the walls, every glance from a stranger, every sound outside the window made her nerves jump. Julian hadn't returned or called, and the silence from him had only made her thoughts spiral deeper.
She didn't even know who they were.
The kidnappers? Some other threat from Julian's mysterious, too-rich-for-comfort world?
She didn't know.
But she listened.
She did everything he said. Locked her doors. Kept to herself. Canceled plans. Avoided even the harmless chatter with the older woman at the corner shop. And when she did go out, it was only with Daniel or her Aunt Adeline. No exceptions.
It was suffocating. It was safe. And it was driving her crazy.
The Carters, after hearing about the incident, had granted her more time off. A few extra weeks to rest, as if her bruises were the only parts of her that had been hurt. As if the silence that settled into her bones each night didn't ache far worse.
And now here she was, sitting in the living room with Daniel again.
"You're not going," Daniel said for the fifth time that week.
Rose groaned from the couch, rubbing her forehead. "Daniel, I need to go back. I need to earn. We're already living off your part-time paychecks, Addie can't stay forever, and I can't keep acting like this house is a hospital."
He folded his arms, brows drawn. "You could work from home. I can talk to someone about something remote—"
"No." She stood. "I appreciate it, but I want to go back. The Carter mansion isn't just a job to me. It feels like I'm doing something worthwhile. I can't explain it—"
"Julian said to stay low, remember that?"
Rose looked away. Her jaw clenched. "I have stayed low. For three damn weeks. And nothing happened."
Daniel stared at her a long moment, the fight in him slowly giving way to quiet resignation. He knew that tone. Once Rose made up her mind, there was little anyone could do.
"Alright," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "But if anything—anything—feels off, you leave. Promise me that."
She nodded. "I promise."
---
The next morning came with pale sunlight filtering through the curtains. Rose dressed early, tying her blonde hair up into a soft bun and buttoning up a plain cream blouse over her jeans. She wanted to look presentable but not dramatic. Normal.
She was wheeling her small suitcase toward the door, humming a quiet tune to calm her nerves, when she froze.
A sleek black luxury car sat parked right in front of the house.
It wasn't a neighbor's. It wasn't one of Daniel's friends. And it definitely wasn't just coincidence.
Before she could even process the oddity of it, the back door of the car opened and a tall, sharp-dressed man in a charcoal suit stepped out. His posture was military straight, and his movements screamed professionalism. He approached her with purpose, stopping a respectful distance away.
"Miss Rose?"
She blinked. "Yes?"
He gave a short bow of the head. "My name is Laurence. I've been assigned to drive you to the Carter estate and return you home when you want to."
Rose stared at him. "Assigned?"
"Yes, miss. Arranged by Sir Carter Jr. himself."
Julian.
Of course.
Rose's brows furrowed, and she suddenly became very aware of how ridiculous this felt. As if she were royalty. As if she needed an escort just to do her job.
"May I carry your luggage?" Laurence asked politely, motioning toward her suitcase.
She snapped out of it. "No. I'm good."
Before he could protest, she gripped the handle and rolled the suitcase herself toward the car. She caught her reflection in the tinted window for a brief second—she looked more stunned than put together.
Once inside the car, cocooned in leather and silence, her thoughts swirled back to the past.
There was a time, not long ago, when she'd been driven to places in a private car. When people carried her shopping bags. When maids brushed her hair before events. It had all felt normal then. Now, she looked back and wondered if that life had broken something inside her. Made her soft. Dependent. Weak.
Maybe that was why she'd folded like paper when things got hard.
Maybe that was why she wasn't strong enough to face her father. Or to understand Julian's world.
She sighed and glanced out the window.
The city passed by in a blur, but her mind stayed rooted in place.
She remembered Julian's hands as he took the watering can from her, his frown of concern. The way his voice had softened when he talked about her eyes. The way he had looked at her bruises like he was the one who had been hurt.
And then those final words.
They know now.
Who were they?
She had so many questions, but no answers. And now she was heading back to a house where the people were kind, yes, but also secretive. Cold at times. Wealthy beyond logic.
And then there was Julian.
The man who kissed like the world would end tomorrow and then disappeared like a ghost.
She didn't know what she was walking into.
But she couldn't turn back now.