Chapter 7 The Clash

• ‘Wasn't that the whole point? To avoid death?’ she pondered.
• With determination, she started to distance herself from him, slowly and cautiously, minimizing any movement. She was making progress, but soon, she was out of his grasp.
• His hand still rested on her. She glanced at his face and let out a sigh of relief. Phew, he seemed undisturbed. The alcohol must have knocked him out like a lifeless doll.
• She attempted to lift her hand away from her body, but with each gentle push, she became more convinced that his body was made of solid iron.
• She glanced back. This time, his brows furrowed. Anxiety washed over her, and she hesitated. What if she got caught? She pushed aside the thought and ignored her growing courage.
• She continued to stealthily free herself from his grip until only his fingertips grazed her. She blinked in relief, but then he stretched and firmly wrapped his hand around her once again, making it impossible for her to move.
• Frustration and tears welled up within her. Even in his sleep, he still controlled her. But not anymore. She would fight until her last breath to escape him.
• Grabbing a pillow, she mustered all her strength to lift his arm and slid it beneath, taking the opportunity to slip away. She did it. She was finally free. But it wouldn't last if she stayed near him.
• She tiptoed, grabbing the white dress she had discarded the night before and putting it back on. She snatched her phone and stealthily made her way to the door.
• Accidentally, her foot collided with a ceramic object that Damon had carelessly left on the floor. The resulting noise was enough to stir him from his slumber, causing him to groan. Mistaking the sound of her presence, he snuggled deeper into his pillow.
• Letting out a sigh, she tiptoed out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. Moving swiftly down the corridor, she tried to navigate her way through the unfamiliar surroundings. Despite having been in this place for two weeks, she still felt like a stranger.
• Her heart raced as she spotted two of Damon's men approaching her. She instinctively lowered her head, hoping to avoid their gaze. "Who is she?" she overheard one of them inquire.
• The other chuckled softly before responding, "She's boss's new plaything. But he's completely infatuated with her. Haven't seen him this obsessed in a long time."
• Maya's face flushed with embarrassment. This was not the reputation she had hoped for, but it seemed to be the label she was stuck with.
• Realizing she posed no threat; the men did not attempt to stop her. She found herself in the dining room, unsurprised to find it empty. Her eyes fell upon a door that likely led to the kitchen. Kitchens usually had back doors, right? She pondered to herself, determined to find out.
• Just as she was about to make her move, she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded in her chest as she quickly sought refuge under the table, the tablecloth providing a perfect cover.
• She could only see the person's legs, but that was enough for her. The feminine legs and shoes brought a sense of relief to the tense room. The person muttered incomprehensible words, leaving Maya puzzled.
• "Lina! Lina!" Maya called out, recognizing the familiar voice of her friend Maria.
• In a hurry, a girl dressed in a blue and white maid's uniform rushed out of the kitchen. "Ma'am, did you call for me?" Lina asked.
• "Yes, Lina, I need a glass of cold water," Maya replied.
• Lina hesitated, shuffling her feet. "But Madam Maria, you know we can't have water all the time. Sir Damon would be furious if he found out."
• "He won't find out, I promise. Here, take these five dollars. Just one glass, please," Maya pleaded.
• Maya couldn't help but feel that they were talking in code. Water seemed to symbolize something else, and Maria's desperation only confirmed her suspicions.
• Lina's mind quickly changed. "I'll bring the glass to your room," she said.
• "Thank you so much, Lina. You're the best," Maya expressed her gratitude before leaving the dining room.
• Lina let out a sigh and followed suit, leaving the room as well.
• Maya sighed, relieved that she finally had a moment to herself. She glanced around, making sure the coast was clear. Her anxiety was overwhelming, making her feel like she wanted to disappear. Shaking off those thoughts, she refocused on her mission.
• As she approached the kitchen, Maya unexpectedly came face to face with the maid whom her master had sent to retrieve her clothes. The maid seemed startled, clearly not anticipating Maya's presence downstairs.
• "Please, don't make a scene," Maya pleaded, her voice on the verge of tears.
• Lina looked at Maya's bruised face and frail body, feeling a surge of pity. Ever since Maya had arrived at the mansion, Lina had sensed that something was terribly wrong. However, as an ordinary servant, she felt powerless to intervene.
• "You won't have to stay down here," Lina assured Maya.
• Maya nodded anxiously; her eyes filled with fear. "I understand, I have to escape from this place before he kills me. I don't know my way around, please help me."
• Lina let out a weary sigh. It seemed like she was always the one risking her job and life for others. But she couldn't bear to leave this innocent girl behind. Maya looked so fragile as if she wouldn't even survive until the front door.
• "I won't physically guide you, but I'll give you directions," Lina explained.
• Maya nodded vigorously, but a sharp pain shot through her skull. She winced but remained determined. "I'll be grateful for any help."
• "Stay away from the kitchen, it's a dangerous place. Instead, go through the living room and head downstairs. Once you're outside, no one will stop you. They'll mistake you for Sir Damon, so use that to your advantage..." Lina trailed off, unsure if she had revealed too much.
• Maya brushed it off, profusing her gratitude. She continued on her journey, passing through the living room and finding the staircase. As she descended, she couldn't believe her luck.
• She had come so far, and freedom was just a few steps away. Maya hurried down the remaining stairs, clutching her phone tightly in her right hand. Her palms were sweaty and slippery, and a throbbing ache pulsed in her head.
• She couldn't contain her joy and started talking about her newfound freedom too early. But just as she was about to reach for the doorknob that would lead her to freedom, the door swung open abruptly, revealing the familiar face of her Master.
• In an instant, she froze. "Master, please forgive me," she uttered.
• Unable to bear the situation any longer, she lost consciousness and fell backward...