I clenched my jaw in an attempt to bury the fear rising within me, my heart hammering in my chest. I left the window and began heading toward the closet at the corner, my feet padding across the marble floor.
When I gripped the handles and pulled the closet doors apart, my brows arched reflexively. Inside, rows of designer clothes and lavish gowns hung in perfect order, their fabrics gleaming under the warm closet light.
I picked out a dress and held it over my front. It was exactly my size. After trying it on and trying on a few others, the results were the same. They all fit perfectly. But how?
How did he know my size?
When did he get all these clothes?
Were they specifically for me?
What did that even mean?
Or wait.
Did these belong to some other girl?
Crazy thoughts began creeping into my head, making me question everything happening to me. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d kidnapped other girls like me before and had locked them up in this same room.
The more I thought about it, the more fear had its roots deep in my heart. From what I read in that book, this man was a ruthless Mafia boss, and he wasn’t to be messed with.
I knew I had to tread with caution when dealing with him. I’d already messed up once when I lied to him, and men like him valued honesty over lies. Maybe it was time to switch tactics.Maybe next time he spoke with me, I’d spill my truth. Or at least, a version of it that wouldn’t have my head on a spike.
The front door opened, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned around with terror in my eyes, knowing I wasn’t ready to face him again. I could barely stand his commanding presence the last time and had almost collapsed in fear.
I’d never seen the devil before, but I was certain he looked like my captor. The darkness hovering over that man was demonic. His cold, blue eyes were empty. Lifeless. Emotionless.
The man was tall, at least six feet or more, with sharp features and quiet strength. He had a faint scar running along his cheekbone, amplifying the sense of danger that surrounded him.
Even though I’d tried all I could to mask my fear, I was almost certain that he saw right through me during our last conversation. I wasn’t sure I was ready to feel that kind of fear this early morning.
Fortunately, the person who’d walked in was a woman, a maid. She was carrying a tray of food, the sweet aroma drifting through the air.
I didn’t realize that I was starving until now. The aroma alone made my mouth water and my stomach growl in anticipation.
“Good morning, Madam,” she greeted me, her polite voice laced with a Russian accent.
Madam?My brows rose slowly.
I thought I was a prisoner here.
What was going on?
She walked right in, her pair of flats padding softly across the room as she headed toward a table. There, she set down the tray and straightened her spine.
Confused, I shifted my gaze between her and the food without saying a word.
“Your breakfast.” She gestured at the tray, her eyes locked on me.
I hesitated, watching her more closely.
She was old enough to be my mother, plump but beautiful, with striking gray eyes and short blonde hair.
“You should eat.”
Still no answer.
I didn’t know what to say or how to react. I’d never been kidnapped before, and there was no manual to teach me how this whole thing worked.