The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus) novel Chapter 467

The path beneath Gabby's feet transitioned from rugged to smooth, and although she had no idea where she was headed, she made a mental map of every turn and dip, readying herself for the escape she vowed would come one day.

As they followed the winding trail, a quaint farmstead unfolded in the distance. It had the orderly charm of a typical rural hamlet, and for a moment, Gabby allowed herself a sliver of relief. Perhaps being sold into servitude in a village might offer a chance for freedom.

What Gabby didn't know was that this seemingly normal enclave was steeped in blood and cruelty. The owner of the estate was notorious for acquiring women and children at a bargain through deceit or outright abduction.

The estate was a deceptive mirage of freedom where, in truth, every soul was shackled. The servants were property, their lives hanging on the whims of their owner.

The staff were desensitized through harsh conditioning, toiled in the fields, tended to livestock, and reared children who would eventually serve the master's bidding. Those with potential were groomed for special tasks, while the more attractive ones were claimed by the master himself, only to be discarded back to servitude once he grew bored of them.

This was no paradise, but a gilded cage. A hell disguised in finery.

The perimeter was fortified with barbed wire, a menacing boundary meant to clip the wings of any who dreamed of flight. The electrified fences stretched for miles; a single touch could reduce a person to ashes.

In such a fortress, escape was a fool's hope, save for the heavily guarded main gate.

Urged along by her captors, Gabby, clutching Anna, passed through hidden doors and secret passages until they reached a grand mansion. As she stepped inside, a cruel kick to her legs sent her kneeling on the opulent foyer floor. Quick to react, she clutched Anna close, preventing the child from tumbling to the ground.

Unphased and curious, Anna gazed about with wide eyes, oblivious to the danger lurking in every shadow. Gabby hugged her tighter, fearing any misstep might provoke a terrible consequence.

At the head of the hall sat an elderly man, his scalp a polished dome. His gaze was cloudy, and his eyes looked weak beneath the weight of deep wrinkles. He had a visage that would instill fear in the stoutest of hearts.

Anna clung to Gabby's clothes, confused as to why they were kneeling. She whispered, “Mommy, why are we on the floor? Isn't it cold? Get up, please.”