Chapter 2
My phone buzzed. It was a voice message from Mary.
My hands shook as I hit play. "Evelyn, don't blame me for being harsh. Victor asked for you. He must've fallen for you. Behave yourself tonight and don't get on his bad side."
When the voice message ended, the room was eerily silent.
The doorknob abruptly turned.
I snapped my head up.
Victor pushed the door open and entered, carrying a tray.
On the tray was a white porcelain bowl, still steaming.
It was a bowl of blood tonic, rich with the scent of traditional medicine.
He walked over and handed me the bowl. "Drink it."
I glared at the bowl, my stomach twisting into knots. "I'm not drinking it."
"You're anemic, you know," he said calmly.
"I said I'm not drinking it!"
I knocked the porcelain bowl out of his hand, sending it crashing to the floor.
The tonic splattered across the carpet and onto his pants.
I looked at Victor, on the verge of breaking down. "How long have you had your eyes on me?"
Victor didn't glance at the mess on the floor.
He slowly raised his hand, his cold fingertips brushing against the back of my neck, gently caressing.
"Long enough for you to forget me," he murmured, his lips almost brushing my ear. "But I never had the heart to let you go."
The touch on the back of my neck was icy cold.
I stiffened, too scared to move.
"Go take a shower," he said, his voice flat as he withdrew his hand. "A nutritionist will come to adjust your diet tomorrow."
With that, he turned and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
That night, I sat on the couch, wide awake until morning.
I felt like I was nothing more than the prey he had marked out for himself long ago.
*****
The next morning, I came downstairs with dark circles under my eyes.
The long table was spread with all kinds of breakfast food.
Victor was sitting at the head of the table, reading a newspaper.
"Have a seat," he said, not even looking up.
I picked a seat as far away from him as possible.
A middle-aged woman in a white coat walked over to me. "Hello, Mrs. Blackwood. I'm your personal nutritionist."
She handed me a menu. "Here's your meal plan for today. These are all blood-building dishes."
I stared at those dishes, having no appetite at all. "I usually have an iced Americano in the morning."
The nutritionist smiled and shook her head. "Mrs. Blackwood, you have mild anemia.
"And you've got a mild stomach ulcer, so iced coffee on an empty stomach is a no-go.
"Also, you have a mild allergy to peanuts and mangoes, so the kitchen has already removed all those ingredients."
Every detail she listed matched the medical report I found in the drawer last night.
As I listened, a chill crept over me.
All this meticulous care made me feel like Victor was keeping me as a blood thrall.
"I don't wanna eat this," I said, pushing the bowl away.
Victor finally looked up from his newspaper. "Finish it."
His voice was calm, but there was a subtle threat behind it.
"I'm not hungry," I said.
"Evelyn, do you want me to feed you?"
I clenched my jaw, picked up the spoon, and forced down the blood-building soup bit by bit.
Every mouthful filled me with dread.
Just as I finished breakfast, the butler, Gavin, hurried in. "Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood's sister is at the door. She says she wants to see Mrs. Blackwood."
Madeline? I frowned.
Victor set his newspaper down. "Let her in."
A few minutes later, Madeline walked into the living room in her high heels.
She glanced around, jealousy flickering in her eyes before she put on a mocking grin. "Well, Evelyn, looks like you're really living it up here, huh?"
She walked right up to me and lowered her voice. "Mom told me to come see how you're doing."
I shot her a cold look. "Are you done? Then get out."
"Don't get so cocky," Madeline muttered under her breath. "Do you really think Victor married you to be his wife?
"Everyone in our circle knows he's a psycho.
"You're nothing but a blood thrall our family sold off to pay our debts.
"Once Victor gets tired of drinking your blood, you'll be worth less than a pet to him."
I stood up, grabbed a leftover glass of juice from the table, and splashed it straight in her face. "Shut up."
Madeline screamed, swiping the red juice off her face. "How dare you splash me?"
She lunged at me furiously.
I dodged aside, snatched the hose from the flower rack, and blasted her with water.
She lost her footing and wiped out right by the rose bushes.
She struggled to her feet, grabbed a thorny rose branch, and lashed out at me with it.
I instinctively raised my hand to defend myself.
The sharp thorns raked across my palm.
Blood welled up right away.
The smell of blood hung in the air.
In that instant, Victor, who had been sitting at the head of the table, suddenly appeared right in front of me.
He moved so fast that I didn't even see him coming.
He stared at the blood in my palm, and for a moment, a flash of crimson flickered in his eyes.
His breathing grew heavy, his chest rising and falling sharply.
I kept backing away, panic rising in my chest.
He was about to lose control.
Victor spun around, turning his back to me.
He clenched his right wrist so tightly that the veins on the back of his hand stood out.
He whipped out a black handkerchief and tossed it at my feet. "Wrap it up."
His voice was hoarse and strained, full of restraint.
I grabbed the handkerchief with shaking hands and wrapped it around my palm in a panic, blocking out the scent of blood.
Victor finally turned around, moving slowly.
The crimson in his eyes was gone, and he put on his usual icy expression again.
He didn't look at Madeline, who was still shaking on the floor. "Throw her out."
Gavin stepped up right away and dragged Madeline out.
Victor didn't spare me another glance. He headed straight for the hidden door to the basement.
I stood there, watching him vanish behind it.
Now I was sure of it. The way he looked at me just now showed that he was practically starving for me.
He was just holding himself back.