The Game of Manipulations

Charlotte

Days turned into weeks, and the tension in Richard's mansion continued to grow. Marta became increasingly intrusive in her visits, and Richard, seemingly oblivious to the emotional toll this was taking on me, maintained his rigid and controlling demeanor. Every move I made was observed, every word, evaluated.

One day, Marta arrived at the mansion earlier than usual. She entered the room like a storm, her gaze sharp as blades. I was sitting, trying to read, but when she entered, I closed the book and braced myself for what was to come.

"Charlotte, I see you're getting too comfortable," she began, her tone icy. "This is not a retirement home. There are expectations of you, and you'd better start meeting them."

"I understand, ma'am," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’m doing my best."

"Your best?" Marta repeated, with a dry laugh. "You haven't even begun to understand what's expected of you. It’s not just about producing an heir, but knowing your place and maintaining the dignity of this family."

She stepped closer, her face just inches from mine. "I won’t tolerate mistakes, Charlotte. Richard may be distracted by business, but I’m not. I’m watching every step you take. One misstep, and you’ll be discarded like all the others who failed."

Those words cut deep, but I refused to show any weakness. "I don't intend to fail."

"We’ll see," she responded, turning sharply and leaving the room, leaving me with a knot in my stomach.

Later that night, after the mansion had fallen into its usual silence, I decided to delve deeper into what I had discovered in the documents. I knew there were loopholes I could exploit, but I wasn’t sure how yet. I needed time, and more importantly, I needed allies.

That same night, during dinner, Richard mentioned that he would be traveling for a few days to attend to business. Marta didn’t seem surprised, and that worried me. I knew she would use his absence to put even more pressure on me.

When Richard got up from the table, he said bluntly, "While I’m away, Marta will be in charge of ensuring everything is in order. I’m sure you know what that means, Charlotte."

I nodded, keeping my head down to hide the anger bubbling inside me. Richard had no idea how relentless his mother was, or worse, he knew and simply didn’t care. He left me there with Marta, with no regard for how I would be treated in his absence.

In the days that followed, Marta intensified her visits, often showing up unannounced with new demands and veiled criticisms. She wanted me to start "representing" more, which meant appearing by Richard's side at social events and maintaining appearances for the elite circle with whom the Anderson family associated.

It was during one of these events, a gala evening, that I realized the extent of the manipulation game being played. I was instructed to wear a specific dress, chosen by Marta, and to follow Richard like a shadow, smiling and greeting everyone he introduced me to.

That night, as the guests mingled amidst the luxury and idle chatter, I overheard Richard talking to a man who seemed to be an old acquaintance. Their conversation was friendly but loaded with insinuations. The man, whose name was Victor, asked a question that put me on alert.

"So, Richard, have you managed to control your new wife yet? Or does she still need to learn a few lessons?"

Richard laughed, a sound that made me freeze inside. "Oh, she's learning, Victor. But you know how it is... sometimes, we need to remind them where they belong."

It hit me like a punch in the gut. Richard was discussing me as if I were an object, something to be molded and controlled. And worse, he was doing it in public, in front of people who laughed and agreed as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

I tried to keep the smile on my face, but the anger and humiliation I felt were almost unbearable. At that moment, I realized the situation was much worse than I had imagined. I wasn’t just trapped in a marriage of convenience; I was being slowly destroyed by a man who saw me only as a tool to achieve his goals.

When I returned to the mansion that night, I sat alone in the bedroom, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. I needed a strategy, something that would allow me to get out of this situation with my dignity intact. I decided I needed to act quickly, before Richard and Marta completely destroyed me.

The next morning, before Richard left for his trip, he called me into his office. I entered, already feeling the tension in the air.

"Charlotte," he began, handing me a thick envelope. "Inside this envelope is the final version of our contract, which you’ve already signed, but there’s an additional clause that we haven’t discussed yet."

My heart started beating faster. "What’s that?"

Richard looked at me with a cold and calculating gaze. "You’re to quit your job immediately and remain at home throughout the pregnancy. This should have been clear already, but now it’s formally in the contract. I don’t want you distracted or jeopardizing what we’re trying to achieve."

His words hit me like an avalanche. Quit my job? Be confined to that mansion for months? Richard was demanding that I give up any semblance of independence I still had.

"Richard, this isn’t fair," I began to protest, but he cut me off.

"Charlotte, this isn’t a negotiation," he said firmly. "You knew from the start that this wouldn’t be a normal marriage. This is part of the agreement. If you want to continue with this, you’ll follow the rules."

I felt a mix of anger and despair rising inside me, but I knew fighting him at that moment would be futile. He was determined, and any attempt to argue would only make things worse.

"I understand," I replied, trying to stay calm. "I’ll quit my job."

"Good," Richard responded, as if he had just solved a minor problem. "And remember, Marta will be here to ensure everything goes as planned."

He gave me one last stern look before leaving the office, leaving me alone with the weight of the new conditions. Staying at home, under Marta's constant watch, with no freedom to go out or do anything for myself, felt like a nightmare I couldn’t escape.

That night, lying in bed, I began to realize that if I wanted to get out of this situation with any dignity, I would have to be smarter than them. Richard and Marta were determined to control me, to break my spirit, but I wouldn’t let that happen.

I began to devise a plan, something that would allow me to regain control, even if only bit by bit. I knew I had to be careful, that any misstep could mean the end of my chances of escaping that golden hell.

The next few days would be crucial. I would have to deal with Marta, follow Richard’s orders, and at the same time, find ways to undermine the control they exerted over me. Every step I took would have to be calculated, every word, measured. The fight was just beginning, and I was ready to do whatever it took to win.