Page 57 of Ruthless God

I slow my steps. Huh. That’s funny. Because I don’t recall seeing any houses when we flew over the island. In fact… I don’t recall seeing any signs of life at all.

“From here?” I echo, my curiosity spiking. “Like, you were born here?”

Millie opens her mouth, like she might actually answer. But Agnes shuts it down. Fast.

“Millie, go see if Mr. Irons needs anything. When you’re finished, meet me in the kitchen.”

Her tone is sharp and final, leaving no room for argument. Millie’s head lowers instantly, her shoulders curling in like a child caught misbehaving. Heat creeps up her face, and just like that, she turns and hurries away, all but running. Like she’s been trained to obey without question. Like she’s scared.

I watch her go, my stomach twisting. Again, she reminds me of a scolded puppy. I round on Agnes.

“You didn’t have to snap at her like that.”

Agnes doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even look at me. She just keeps walking, her pace measured, her face completely unreadable. But I see it. The tension in her jaw. The way her fingers curl slightly at her sides.

She’s pissed.

At me.

“Excuse me.” I stop in my tracks, crossing my arms. “I said you didn’t have to snap at her like that.”

Agnes slows her pace, then turns to face me fully. For the first time, I really look at her. The stern lines of her face. The cold calculation in her eyes. The way she holds herself. She’s not just a housekeeper, but something else. Someone with power.

And when she speaks, her tone is low, firm, and full of warning.

“Let’s get some things clear right now, dearie.”

Dearie. Like I’m some wayward child who doesn’t know better.

Her sharp gaze locks onto mine. “One, do not talk to any of my girls. If you do, I will make sure Mr. Irons hears about it.”

A chill runs down my spine. She means it.

“Two, you stay in your room at all times. Your meals will be brought to you.”

A cage.

She’s locking me in a damn cage.

“Three, if I so much as suspect that you’re sneaking out, I will lock you in your room.”

Like she has more than one way to keep me trapped.

“Am I clear?”

Her eyes dare me to push back. To test her. To see what happens if I don’t fall in line. My heart pounds, rage curling under my skin, but I force my expression to stay neutral. Because Agnes isn’t just some staff member. She’s something more. And if I’m going to survive here, then I need to pick my battles. For now.

“Crystal,” I mutter, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.

Agnes’ smile sharpens, but there’s nothing warm about it. It’s the kind of smile that masks a warning. The kind that says she’s won this round.

“Good.” She gestures ahead. “This way.”

I have no choice but to follow her to a stairway, climbing silently behind her. We move through hallway after hallway, each one blending into the next. The dim lighting, the endless turns, the eerily identical doors are all meant to disorient me. I feel it in my bones. This place is designed to confuse, to keep people trapped without even realizing it. A maze. And I hate it.

Just as I’m about to ask how much farther, she stops. We’re in front of a dark wooden door, larger than the others we passed. My stomach tightens. But it’s not just the door that makes me uneasy.

It’s the lock.

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