However, Daylen gave a sharp retort, sounding dismissive in his speech.
"There are clothes for you in the closet."
With him gone, and the bathroom door shut, leaving Lucia by herself in the sumptuous bedroom.
Lucia stepped toward the closet, its door whispering softly open as it did so. She was nervous. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she went inside. Size-wise, the closet surpassed the living room in her own house.
The closet's left side was a manly haven, with rows of well-fitting suits and ironed shirts hanging immaculately. But the right side, with its assortment of sophisticated gowns and shimmering outfits, was a woman's delight.
A frame drawer in the middle glinted with an amazing assortment of watches, some of which were limited edition and cost more than Lucia's monthly wage.
Lucia was astounded by the closet's size and opulence and was taken aback by the thought that she was imprisoned in a world that was very different from her own.
She was overcome by the grandeur around her as the door slid shut behind her, engulfing her in a gentle, fragrant darkness.
Lucia's attention strayed as she looked around the closet, taking in all of the extravagant surroundings. The extravagant display of wealth overwhelmed her, making her feel like a tiny boat adrift in a stormy sea.
She was struck with the stark reality that she was a mortal in a world of gods, and that Daylen was someone else entirely.
Her footsteps reverberated through the spacious room as she made her way to the ladies' section, serving as a constant reminder of the enormous disparity between her impoverished life and the lavish lifestyle of the Patrick's family.
The clothes rack appeared to go on forever, featuring an extravagant assortment of luxurious fabrics and designer labels in a rainbow of hues that made her own wardrobe appear worn-out and patchwork-like quilt.
Lucia felt her fingertips linger over the clothes, her touch tentative as she tried not to think about the question that was yet unsaid: for whom were these clothes intended?
She chose jeans and a basic t-shirt since she was utilitarian but also wanted to splurge on the opulent textiles that tempted her.
She was surprised by how well the clothes fit her as she put them on.
Her contours were wrapped by the soft cotton, and the legs were moulded to fit her legs like a second skin.
She briefly lost sight of the distance between her and Daylen's worlds as she revelled in the simple joy of dressing beautifully and feeling like a million dollars.
With her pulse pounding with excitement, Lucia cautiously emerged from the closet, her feet scarcely making a sound. Her gaze darted cautiously toward the main doors, searching the corridor beyond for any indication of the bodyguards who appeared to be hiding around every corner.
Confident that all was well, she threw open the doors and dashed along the hallway, her feet tapping the marble floor in a last-ditch attempt to break away.
Daylen, meanwhile, came out of the bathroom and looked around the bedroom with a calm, confident air. But as he looked around the empty room, his expression faltered, his brow furrowing in disappointment. He became aware that Lucia had left him again.
Daylen started to choose a suit from the wardrobe with a cautious deliberateness, his fingers working with a precision that belied his mounting discomfort.
The silence was broken by a knock at the door as he was resetting his watch. His personal helper, John, quietly coughed and came in.
"Mr. Patrick, it appears that Lucia has left the mansion," John said in a quiet, level voice.
"We assume she's back at her house now."
Daylen's eyes glowed with resolve, but his countenance stayed neutral. He said,
"Get the car ready," in a confident yet strong manner.
He firmly believed that he could win her back and that Lucia would eventually see that she belonged with him. And he was prepared to go to any lengths in order to make that happen.
************************
Pulsating with tiredness, Lucia rushed through the front door. Though she had anticipated a shorter run home, the desperation that propelled her had made her legs feel like lead. She leaned against the door and banged it shut behind her, her eyes darting over the space as though looking for a way out.
The sound of the creaking floors reverberated through the quiet as she strode into her bedroom with urgency. She threw open the closet door, exposing an assortment of garments and footwear that appeared to be mocking her for their disarray.
With a frenzy, Lucia started packing her luggage, cramming clothes and supplies inside without any thought to organise or order.
Her thoughts were filled with the assurance that Daylen would arrive at her house shortly, as his wealth and connections would make it easy for him to find her.
Her hands trembled with apprehension as she zipped up the luggage, a shudder running down her spine.
She was about to go when a voice with a distinct and inquisitive tone rang out outside her door.
"Lucia, what are you doing?"
Her sister Joanna always had a nose in other people's affairs and loved drama and rumors. Knowing that her sister's coming would only make things worse, Lucia's heart fell.
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