Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 47.

She wipes her hands on the apron and walks toward me. "I’m Margaret. You don’t need to stand there looking lost. Come, come Sit."

Her tone leaves no room for argument. She gestures to the table near the window. I hesitate for half a second, then do as I’m told.

"Did you sleep alright" she asks, already moving back toward the stove.

"As well as I could," I say honestly.

She hums, like that’s the answer she expected. "First nights are always strange. Food helps." She talks with a slight accent like she’s not really from here.

I watch her work, she moves with ease, grace and efficiency. She Knows where everything is without looking. Plates warming. Eggs sizzling quietly. Bread toasting.

"Zane will be down shortly," she adds. "He doesn’t like to be late."

I nod. Of course he doesn’t.

She sets a cup in front of me. A full cup of teas with Steam curling up.

"Drink ," she says. "You’ll feel better."

I wrap my hands around the cup. The warmth seeps into my fingers, I take a sip. It helps more than I want to admit.

A few minutes pass in comfortable silence.

Then footsteps.

Heavy and measured.

Zane enters the kitchen like he owns the space because well..... he does. Dressed casually but still put together. Dark shirt. Sleeves rolled. Hair slightly damp like he showered recent

The driver from yesterday is with him. The same one who handed me the EpiPen. He nods when he sees me.

"Morning," Zane says.

"Morning," I reply

That’s it. No warmth. Just acknowledgement.

Margaret places plates on the table.fhll with losts of dishes on it.

"Sit," she tells him the same way she told me.

And he does....i guess her tone works on every one

The driver takes a seat farther down, clearly used to this routine.

We eat quietly at first, just cutlery sounds and Coffee pouring.

Zane glances at me once. Just once.

"You settle in alright" he asks.

"Yes."

Nothing more. No follow-up.

Margaret watches us like she’s pretending not to but definitely is because I catch her eyes a few times.

After a moment, she says, "If you need anything in the house, you ask me."

I meet her eyes. "Thank you."

She smiles.. all teeth, genuine and bright

Zane finishes his coffee and stands. "I have meetings in a few "

Of course.

He looks at me. "You’re free to do as you like today."

That’s not reassuring. It almos sounds like a warning.

"Mhm ," I say.

His mouth twitches like he almost smiles but doesn’t. Then he turns to leave.

His driver following behind him , I should probably get to know his name and stop calling him driver in my head. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Margaret waits until they’re gone, then looks back at me.

"Well," she says lightly, "welcome home darling ."

I don’t know what to say to that.

So I sip my tea and let the quiet settle around me.

Zane turns on his way out, facing me fully now .

"There’s something else," he says.

I look up from my plate rolling my eyes to the back of my head. "Of course there is."

He ignores the tone. "Your grandfather is hosting something tonight. A party."

I pause mid-bite. "Tonight?."

"Yes."

"For who."

"For us," he says plainly. "Since we missed the reception."

Margaret goes still by the counter, just for a second. Then she resumes what she’s doing like she didn’t hear anything.

I swallow. "I wasn’t informed."

"You are now."

I push my plate back slightly, my appetite disappearing just like that. "What kind of party."

"The kind where people expect to see us standing next to each other," he replies. "Smiling."

I let out a breath through my nose. "That sounds exhausting."

"That’s because it is," he says. "But it’s necessary."

I lean back in my chair. "I just got married yesterday. I spent the night in a hospital. You were the one in a bed, but somehow I’m the one who feels like I got hit by a truck."

His eyes flick to me briefly. There’s something there. Not sympathy. Not quite irritation either.

"You’ll manage," he says.

I laugh once. Sharp. "You really say that about everything."

He looks at me for a while . "Be ready by eight."

"I don’t even know what I’m wearing."

"I do."

That makes my jaw tighten. "I can choose my own clothes."

"You can," he says calmly. "And you will. Just don’t embarrass either of us."

I push my chair back and stand too. "I’ve been embarrassing people since birth. You married into it."

His mouth curves slightly. Not a smile. Something else. "Eight," he repeats

.

Then he turns and leaves the kitchen like the conversation is closed.

Margaret waits until his footsteps fade before she looks at me.

"Well," she says carefully, "that went... well ."

I snort. "If that’s what we’re calling it now."

She brings a plate over, setting it gently in front of me. "Eat a little more. You’ll need the energy."

I glance down at the food, then back up at her. "Does he always give orders like that."

She hesitates. Just long enough to answer honestly. "Yes."

I nod once. "Good to know."

I take another bite even though I don’t want it. Because she’s right. Tonight is coming whether I’m ready or not.

Today’s just beginning and I already hate it.

I’m still sitting there, pushing food around my plate, when Margaret clears her throat softly.

"Whenever you’re ready," she says, nodding toward the doorway. "I can show you around the house."

I glance down at myself... "Now?"

She smiles. "Now is fine. This place doesn’t judge."

"That makes one of us," I mutter, but I stand anyway.

She leads the way out of the dining room and into the main hallway. The house is... big.

"This was built by his grandfather," Margaret says as we walk. "Old money. They liked things solid."

"I noticed," I say, eyeing a staircase that looks like it could survive an earthquake.

She chuckles. "Come. I’ll introduce you properly to the other staff."