Part 2From Bride-To-Be to His Kept Woman

Zara's POV

The apartment was on the 32nd floor. I could see half of the city's dazzling lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The fridge was packed to the brim with my favorite foods. Countless clothes hung in the walk-in closet, arranged by season.

Even the toothbrush on the bathroom counter was the brand that I usually used.

My phone was confiscated, and I was given one that James had specially prepared for me. He could see my every move.

I helplessly collapsed onto the couch, finally realizing that I had become his canary in a cage.

…

James reeked of alcohol when he returned that night. A sympathetic look flickered in his eyes when he opened the fridge and noticed that I had left everything untouched.

"Are you planning to starve yourself to death to threaten me, Zara?" he asked.

I looked up. "Let me go," I said hoarsely.

James chuckled at that. Instead of getting angry, he approached me and crouched in front of me.

His demeanor was almost gentle when he asked, "Where do you want to go? Back to the university? Back to that six-person dorm with the communal bathroom? Do you want to go back to eating the cafeteria's food again?"

When I didn't respond, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Why aren't you saying anything? Or perhaps that's not what you want?"

His tone had taken on a slightly grim edge when he continued, "You know me, Zara. You know that I rarely give people second chances."

I closed my eyes, feeling as if someone was squeezing my heart, making it throb painfully. I didn't continue the conversation. Instead, I asked, "Did you lie to me from the very start?"

James was slightly stunned. He frowned, looking a little impatient when he asked, "What's the point of asking me this now?"

He sat next to me and poured himself a glass of wine. He didn't speak again.

My thoughts drifted to that particular summer day.

James had pursued me for three months. He didn't rush me, cling to me, or flatter me. He would just show up at my usual spot in the library every day at the same time, placing a cup of latte that was at the perfect temperature on the table. He would then sit opposite me and quietly read a book.

There was once when I couldn't help myself and asked, "What's your goal, James?"

He looked as if he had finally achieved his objective when he looked up at me and stared into my eyes. His eyes sparkled when he answered, "You, of course. What else would it be?

"I've never lacked anything in my life," he said, pausing for a moment to stare seriously into my eyes. "You're the only thing that's missing, Ms. Zara Sherwood."

His words had moved me at that time, and I had believed him.

…

James didn't touch me that night. He also didn't answer my question.

Melanie dropped by the next day with a bouquet of white gardenias and a fruit basket.

"James specially imported them from abroad," she said. "Have a bite."

She didn't seem to mind when I didn't accept the fruit basket. She just grabbed a fruit knife and began slicing them.

"If you're not used to our new dynamic, you can just pretend that you're completely oblivious just like in the past, Zara. You can still call me Mel. You're so cute when you address me that way."

Unable to hold back her own amusement, she chuckled lightly after she was done speaking, looking at me as if I was a disobedient pet.

Disgust roiled in my gut, making me gag on the spot.

Melanie's expression darkened slightly as she looked at me.

"Now, you're just being immature, Zara," she said before gently slicing a line across her palm with the fruit knife.

She then immediately rushed into the kitchen where James was bustling about, throwing herself into his arms with a troubled expression. "Zara cut me with the knife, James…"

James calmly walked over to me upon hearing her words. I tried to explain myself, but he cut me off. "You have a pure heart. I know that you won't do something like that. But you've indeed been rather disobedient. Apologize to Mel, Zara."