What brought a damsel...

"Dad!" Leila yelled, "That isn't fair."

"I think I am the fairest with you, darling."

Leila stomped her feet on the floor and stalked out of the room after the unsuccessful attempt to get him to grant her the permission she needed.

It was just like always, her father refusing to let her do what she wanted.

He wouldn't let her even walk the distance from the entrance door to the huge gate without having Anthony, his loyal bodyguard and chief security officer follow her.

She detested it. All she had ever wanted was her freedom. Yet, it seemed it wouldn't come anytime soon.

Her father had freaking confined her in the house and didn't care about anything she wanted.

Although he provided all that she wanted, he assumed that giving her everything was what she only needed.

She wanted more.

She wanted his attention. She wanted a father and daughter moment and she wanted her freedom as well.

Leila wondered if she was being selfish to have wanted her freedom as her father always did what he was doing for her safety.

So he said.

Her father, Silas Lawson, was the Governor of Mawood, a city in Ochyne. He never cared about the events that had been going on in the State. He always dismissed even the most deadly matter with just a flick of his finger and acted like he never heard of it or it never happened.

The worst was that he often covered up all the killings by paying off the higher-ups or whoever that was to report what had happened and made it seem like it was just a normal incident.

But then, what was happening wasn't her problem.

Leila's problem was how to leave the house for the party she had been planning for weeks now without Anthony knowing of her escape plan. Or anyone at all.

She could think of several names she'd be called if she didn't go to the party tonight and she was not ready to be tagged daddy's girl or worse scared little princess as she was known by her friends when little.

All were due to her father's overprotective nature and it wasn't fun when she was the subject of ridicule.

"I need a way out." She mumbled, walking to the window side. "And I'd do whatever it takes to leave this prison I am in."

She vowed, glaring at the cloudless sky which was illuminated by the stars.

**********

"Thank you, Mrs. Morgan," Leila said, embracing the older woman whose arms were opened.

Mrs. Morgan, a woman in her fifties. Despite being that advanced in age, she looked smart in the black tuxedo she donned.

Her greying hair was done in a ponytail and she removed the glasses she often wore.

She was one of her dad's oldest security agents and the only person she frequently related with.

"Be careful, Leila." Mrs. Morgan sighed.

And then, she slipped her hand into the pocket of the black slack pants she donned and placed the tiny tracker she had taken beforehand, and dumped it into Leila's bag which wasn't closed.

She recalled three hours ago when Leila had begged her after her father left, she had pitied her because she was aware of how it felt to be confined in a spot for a long while.

Mrs. Morgan was certain Leila trusted her enough to have come to her instead of the other maids or security agents which were in the mansion.

"Please, don't let anyone know," Leila said. "Else, I'll be doomed."

"Silly," Mrs. Morgan dismissed. "No one knows. Just come back as soon as you are done."

"I will," Leila said with a smile.

She slipped into her heels as soon as he stepped into the Uber Mrs. Morgan had called for her. She only hoped Mrs. Morgan wouldn't be in trouble for what she was doing.

Earlier, as if knowing what she intended to do, Anthony had been rigid and had refused to leave her presence even when she cussed at him.

He stayed and didn't move an inch. It had been upsetting for her, but she was glad she had bypassed both him and the other guards who were always stationed at the gate.

Mrs. Morgan had also helped. She didn't know what the woman had done, but she'd be forever grateful to her for helping her escape the house. Even though it wasn't forever, she'd make sure she enjoyed herself before coming back.

***************

"Thank you," Leila mumbled, alighting the car. She rubbed the nonexistent crease on the midi pencil skirt she donned and straightened.

She halted, creased her brows, and tightened her grip on the leather bag she carried.

The hair at the back of her neck prickled and she glanced around.

"No one is watching." She mumbled to herself.

Her hands were sweaty but she believed it was due to the nervousness of leaving home without the consent of anyone and she was afraid she'd get into trouble.

Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, Leila stepped into the elite pub hastily. The last thing she needed was to have her father come after her.

Even though she trusted Mrs. Morgan, her father might threaten her if he found out about her whereabouts and how she had managed to escape the house.

Her eyes wandered around the large pub house and they stayed on a man sitting at the bar side with a martini in his hand.

She didn't need to be told who he was. She was once acquainted with him in a function and that was that, until today.

She had never had the opportunity to get to talk more with him because of the presence of her father.

He had urged her out of the function after he was done with what he wanted.

Seeing Trevor Saint Williamson by the bar felt as though today would be the best of her life. She was glad she had left the house, if not, she was certain she'd miss an opportunity like this.

She smelt her breath discreetly, the last thing she wanted was to smell as if she had eaten ginger the night before. A bright smile appeared on her face, and she sauntered toward him as she sensed his eyes on her.

Trevor's lips quirked up as he smiled. He tilted the cup of the martini with him and pretended he was observing the drink rather than the beauty approaching him.

"Remember me, Mr. Williamson?" Leila raised her brows, brought a wipe from her clutch, and wiped the vacant barstool next to Trevor's before sitting on it.

"How can I forget a pretty face? Happy to see you again, Miss..."

"Silly!" Leila giggled, "Just call me Leila."

"Leila, it is," Trevor mumbled, assessing her.

"What brought a beautiful damsel like you to meet the devil?"