The days following the empty wedding night drifted by like a cold current. Clara woke each morning in the lavish room, sunlight gilding the thick Persian rug and warming the massive bed with its soft silk sheets. Beyond the clear glass windows lay a meticulously manicured garden, the fountain's gentle murmur felt like it was mocking her loneliness. Everything was surreal in its perfection. This was a life that poor Anna in the real world could only have dreamed of, but for Clara now, it was a gilded cage.
She lived under almost constant surveillance. Butler Reid, the middle-aged woman with her neatly coiled hair and crisp black uniform, was the direct manager of Clara's "life" within this mansion. She always appeared precisely on time, her voice even, without inflection, announcing the day's schedule: meal times, strolls in the garden, library hours, receiving guests (if any). There was no spontaneity, no impromptu moments. Clara's life in the Goldsmiths' mansion was arranged with the precision of a clockwork machine.
The professionalism of Butler Reid and the entire staff within the mansion left Clara both impressed and unnerved. They moved silently, barely making a sound. Meals were always served punctually, the food delicious and beautifully presented, but the atmosphere at the dining table was invariably silent. Servants stood a set distance away, ready to fulfill any request with just a look, but they never initiated conversation or lingered longer than necessary. Their faces usually wore expressions of calm or respect, but never warmth, curiosity, or any personal emotion. They were like perfectly programmed robots, knowing only how to serve and remain silent.
Clara attempted to converse with them. Initially, simple, polite questions about the weather or the garden. Later, more probing questions about the mansion, specific rooms, and the history of the Goldsmiths family. But the reaction was always the same: a polite, practiced smile, an extremely brief, generic answer, or a "I'm not sure, Madam" accompanied by a gesture of returning to their task. Their eyes didn't meet hers for too long, as if fearing they might accidentally reveal something. Their discretion and caution were absolute.
These people... they're specially trained, Clara thought to herself, watching a male servant effortlessly lift a heavy potted plant without showing any strain, or the way a female servant cleaned a room with astonishing speed and efficiency. They didn't seem like ordinary workers. They had the appearance of servants, but the bearing of guards.
The mansion was vast. Clara tried to make use of the moments she was permitted to move around to memorize the layout. She counted her steps from her room to the dining room, from the dining room to the library. She paid attention to architectural details: the number of windows, the location of back staircases, the large wooden doors leading to areas she had never entered. There were long, dim corridors leading to the end of wings, where the light was weaker and the air felt colder. She sensed the prohibition in those places, not just from the servants' eyes, but from her instincts.
The East Wing of the mansion seemed to be the center of the mystery. Butler Reid only gave a vague description, saying it was Mr. Jonathan Goldsmith's work area and for important guests, then quickly moved past it. Clara was not allowed near there. She could only stand from afar and look through large glass windows, seeing more modern glass buildings interspersed with the old architecture of the main mansion, glimpsing figures in black suits moving swiftly within.
Each time she took a walk in the garden, she tried to glance around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The high walls, electric fences, and security cameras are cleverly disguised in bushes or on top of lampposts. The security system at the Goldsmiths mansion wasn't simply to prevent theft; it was to prevent intrusion and... escape.
Prudence and caution were survival instincts that had formed in Anna during her poor life, where she had to calculate every penny and be wary of unexpected risks. Now, those instincts were utilized to the maximum. She didn't trust anyone in the Goldsmiths' mansion. A servant's smile could be a facade for contempt; Butler Reid's respect could be a cover for tight surveillance. She only trusted herself, her observation, and analysis.
The "Assassinate Jonathan Goldsmith" mission still hung in her mind. It was her goal, her sole motivation to survive and learn. But how could she approach a man so mysterious that he left no trace in his own home? How could she act when every corner might have watching eyes? The luxury of the Goldsmiths' mansion was like a sweet trap, leading one to a false sense of security, but beneath it lay a dangerous abyss.
Clara knew that she needed time. Time to understand the structure of this maze, to identify the gatekeepers, to find weaknesses in the security and control system. She had to be patient, hide herself, pretend to be a compliant bride, while secretly gathering information and waiting for an opportunity.
She tried searching for information online using Clara's phone, but the results were only general news articles about the Goldsmiths Group, their wealth and power. There was no personal information about Jonathan Goldsmith beyond his position as chairman. Just like within the mansion, Jonathan Goldsmith in the media was an invisible entity, protected by a thick veil of mystery.
Each night, lying alone in the vast room, the loneliness and pressure would rise. The ticking of the antique clock on the wall felt like a countdown to something about to happen. Jonathan Goldsmith still hadn't arrived. The true master of this house, the one she had to kill, remained an unknown. But his absence only made him more terrifying. He was present in every rule, in the eyes of the servants, in the suffocating atmosphere of the mansion.
Clara closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was no longer the weak, helpless Anna. She was Clara, the one who had to survive in "Chaos," who had to face the Goldsmith family and Jonathan Goldsmith. She would use every means to uncover the hidden secrets and find a way to complete the mission. This gilded cage wouldn't hold her forever.