The Warmth Not in the Deal

My name is Fiona Jones. Clutching the faded corner of my clothes, I stood in the grand, resplendent villa living room, the faint scent of cedar in the air sharply at odds with the life I had lived for the past eighteen years. "Fiona Jones, correct?" The man's deep voice carried an unyielding authority. I looked up, meeting a pair of deep, penetrating eyes. He sat on the sofa, his black suit emphasizing a tall, upright figure, fingertips holding an unlit cigar—this was Felix Green, my so-called 'new master.' "Yes." My voice trembled slightly—not from fear, but from instinctive vigilance. Dylan Lynn gently pushed my back, his expression complicated. "Mr. Green, this girl is very obedient. You can rest assured." Felix Green didn't look at him; his gaze remained fixed on me, as if appraising an object. "I have reviewed her files." He stood and walked over to me, looking down from above. "From today onward, you will live here and follow my rules." I bit my lip and said nothing. "Any objections?" He raised an eyebrow, his fingertip lightly tracing my chin. The touch was gentle but carried a pressing weight. "No." I turned my head aside, avoiding him. "I just want to know what I need to do." Dylan Lynn spoke first, "Fiona, you just need to take good care of Mr. Green; nothing else is your concern." "Take care?" Felix Green chuckled softly, "I'm not in need of servants here." My heart sank, and I instinctively stepped back. "Then why did you buy me?" "What I say is not for you to question." Felix Green interrupted Dylan Lynn, his tone instantly cold. "The money has already been transferred to your account. You may leave now." Dylan Lynn glanced at me, his lips moving slightly before he finally turned and left. The heavy door closed, isolating me from the outside world and trapping me inside. "Amy, take her to the room on the east side of the second floor." Felix Green commanded. The middle-aged woman in maid's attire answered and made a beckoning gesture for me to follow. "My rules are simple." Felix Green's voice came from behind, "Don't ask what you shouldn't, don't do what you shouldn't, and be ready whenever you are called." I stopped and turned around. "What about my freedom?" He seemed to find this amusing. Stepping in front of me, he gripped my wrist and said, "From the moment you were sold, your freedom no longer belonged to you." My wrist was squeezed painfully. I struggled, but he gripped it even tighter. "It hurts." I said, frowning. He paused briefly, then loosened his grip, his fingertip gently tracing the red mark on my wrist. "Don't make me angry." Back in the room, I lay on the soft, large bed, my thoughts drifting back twelve years. That year, I was six, crouching beside a trash bin, picking up food. "What's your name?" A clear voice sounded overhead. I looked up to see a boy about my age, wearing a clean school uniform, holding a piece of bread. "My name is Dylan Lynn. Come home with me. My mother will cook for you." At that time, Dylan Lynn was the first ray of light to break through my dark life. I followed him home. His mother bathed me and prepared a hot meal. "From now on, you will be called Fiona Jones." But I never expected that, at eighteen, the person who gave me my name would sell me to someone else. Knock, knock, knock—the sound of knocking came. "Come in," I said. Amy entered carrying a bowl of soup. "Ms. Jones, this soup was prepared by the kitchen at Mr. Green's request. Please drink it while it's hot." "Where is Mr. Green?" I asked. "Mr. Green is attending to official matters in the study." Amy placed the soup on the bedside table. "Ms. Jones, don't be afraid. Mr. Green isn't a bad person; he just has a bit of a temper." I remained silent and watched her leave. Not a bad person? Someone who treats others like commodities to be bought and sold can hardly be good. At ten o'clock at night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, then got up to go downstairs for a drink of water. Passing by the study, I heard Felix Green's voice from inside: "Keep a close watch on Dylan Lynn." "I don't care what he does with that money; just stop bothering Fiona Jones." My footsteps stalled, a flicker of doubt rising in my mind. Why is he so fixated on Dylan Lynn? "Mr. Green, are you perhaps—" the assistant's voice began. "Don't ask what shouldn't be asked." Felix Green interrupted him, "Finish the tasks I assigned as soon as possible." I slipped away quietly and returned to my room. Felix Green is even more complex than I had imagined. The next morning, I was awakened by the noise downstairs. Felix Green sat at the dining table having breakfast, with a second set of utensils placed opposite him. "Awake? Come eat." I walked over and sat down. Amy immediately served me porridge. "Today, I'll take you to buy some clothes." Felix Green put down his knife and fork. "Wearing those clothes out would embarrass me." "I don't need them." I said coldly. He raised an eyebrow. "What? Sulking at me?" "I just don't want to owe you too much." I put down the spoon. "How much did you spend to buy me? I'll pay you back eventually." Felix Green smiled, a trace of mockery in his voice. "You? Do you know how much Dylan Lynn sold you for?" I looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "Five million." He said, "When do you think you can earn five million?" Five million hit me like a massive stone crushing my heart. I knew Dylan Lynn was in urgent need of money recently, but I never expected he would sell me for five million. "Why aren't you saying anything?" Felix Green reached out as if to touch my hair. I suddenly stood up and stepped back. "Don't touch me." His hand froze mid-air, his expression darkened. "Fiona Jones, don't test my patience." "I am not your pet, nor your possession." I looked him in the eyes. "Even if you spent five million, you can't control my life." Felix Green stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. "Interesting." He stood up and approached me. "I'll give you a chance. If you can earn five hundred thousand within a year, I'll grant you your freedom." Five hundred thousand was still an astronomical sum, but at least there was hope. "It's a deal?" I asked. "I, Felix Green, never make empty promises." He extended his hand. "Shall we shake on it?" I hesitated for a moment but still reached out and shook his hand. His palm was large and warm, a stark contrast to his cold tone. "Two o'clock in the afternoon. Be downstairs waiting for me." He released my hand and turned to leave the dining room. I watched his back silently, vowing to earn at least 500,000 to reclaim the freedom that rightfully belongs to me.