Chapter 3 Double Her Workload

• Melissa's POV
• One of the hefty guards lifted me onto his shoulder, and my cry got louder as I kicked and hit his back, but he didn't flinch. He walked effortlessly to the car and shoved me inside. Another guard entered, trapping me in the middle before we drove out of the compound with an usual speed.
• I took out my phone and called my dad, but he didn't answer. My heart raced faster as I sent a text informing him of what had happened but lying that Mr. Brown hadn't hurt me. I also begged him not to come looking for me.
• Tears streamed down my face as I typed. I knew I was in grave danger, but I didn't want my dad to worry.
• My mind raced with terrible possibilities of what Mr Brown was going to do to me, and every option made my throat tighten.
• I tried to focus on the present, but my thoughts kept racing.
• I desperately turned to one of the guards beside me and pleaded, "Please help me! please" He looked at me with a stoic expression, then turned back to the road.
• I knew I was asking the impossible but I was just confused. They worked for Mr. Brown, and even if one of them was kind, they had no power against their master. My heart sank, and I buried my head in my palm, frustrated, hopeless and helpless.
• The car ride was long and silent, but I wished it remained that way, but there was a saying that if wishes were horses...
• Finally, we arrived at a gigantic mansion, which I assumed was Mr. Brown's house.
• "Get down, miss," a guard ordered , opening the door. As I stepped out, I couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful mansion before me. It looked like a fairy tale come true.
• The enormous house had gleaming white stone walls, towering columns, and a grand doorway. A perfectly manicured garden surrounded a fountain, gushing water into the air.
• My home was like a goat house compared to this.'What a cruel world,' I thought, my eyes turning glassy with tears.
• Mr. Brown's mansion was like a continental hotel, yet he couldn't forgive my father's debt of $500,000, a huge amount for us, but nothing to him. Luxury cars filled the compound, a stark contrast to our struggles.
• My attention then shifted to Mr. Brown, who spoke to a guard, then nodded towards me.
• The guard approached, while Mr. Brown walked towards the entrance. "Come," the guard ordered, and I followed reluctantly.
• At the entrance, Mr. Brown stood with his hands in his pockets, looking like a model. He gestured for the guard to stop and turned to me with a mix of angry and irritated expression. "Leave her with me," he said.
• I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. There was no point wasting them on the heartless man. He didn't look like he had a heart somewhere after all.
• "Follow me," he ordered, walking briskly towards the entrance. I hurried to keep up, feeling like a trash he couldn't wait to discard.
• Just as we were about to enter the house, Mr. Brown received a call and stopped to answer it. I waited, noticing his voice turn softer than usual.
• After a few minutes, he ended the call and received another one. I shifted my weight, trying to ease the ache in my legs and the dried blood on my knees from the earlier fall. My head also throbbed painfully.
• I wondered why we couldn't just go inside while he was on the call, and I would at least get to sit down.
• As he spoke, I caught a few words: "You want to come back today?" and "Let me know when you're at the airport, and I'll send a driver."
• After ending the call, he turned and starting walking back the way we came. I hesitated, unsure whether to follow or wait for instructions. I felt more headache was coming on.
• After a quick moment, I decided to follow him, walking fast to catch up with his long strides. As I approached, he turned to me with a murderous expression, making me stop abruptly. "What are you doing?" he asked in an icy tone, his voice sending chills round my body as my palms turned sweaty.
• When I didn't answer, he took a step closer, pinched my top, and pulled me towards him. "Always wait for my instructions, understood?" he growled, his face mean. I nodded, still confused about what I did wrong. Was it because I followed him without being asked?
• "Now, stand here and stop following me like a lost puppy," he ordered, releasing his grip on my top.
• He released me and continued walking, even sanitizing his hand with a something that resembled a spray he took out of his pocket. 'I said it, he sees me as dirt,' I thought, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists.
• I hated this feeling. If only my mom was alive, I wouldn't mind the mistreatment, but now everything felt like a waste. I was suffering for nothing.
• He finished talking to a man by the gate and walked back to me, his expression as dark as his clothes. "Follow me," he ordered without looking at me.
• In the living room, he dialed a number, and a blonde woman in her late forties arrived promptly. "Good afternoon, mister Williams," she greeted, but he answered with a simple nod of his head. What a jerk.
• "Take this young lady to the kitchen, give her work, and double her workload among the maids," he instructed, then turned and left me with the woman, who looked at me with pity.