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I nod, or at least I think I do. I can’t be sure.

For the next two hours, Marie stays with me while I float in and out of consciousness. My brain refuses to shut down completely, and yet having my eyes open does me more harm than good. What could be wrong with me? Surely, this isn’t the flu. I’ve had that a time or two in my life, and it’s never felt like this.

This is different. Like my body is trying to purge something inside of it.

I recall the doctor taking my blood, and telling Julian there was nothing that could be done until tests were run. Or maybe I had misheard that? I didn’t know what was real or not? Sometime later, I awake again, feeling only a little better.

When I open my eyes, my head is pounding, but I don’t seem as disoriented or like I’m riding a never-ending rollercoaster. Sitting up, I press a hand to my forehead.

“Welcome back,” Julian’s deep voice greets me, and I find him perched at the edge of the bed, his features hidden in the shadows. He’s sitting in the same spot Marie had sat earlier. Marie. Immediately, concern for the maid fills my veins.

“Where is Marie?” I croak.

Julian smiles, one side of his lip tipping up. He looks every bit the predator he wants people to see him as. “Probably sleeping since it’s well after ten.”

“Oh… okay.”

“It’s surprising that you wonder about her when you were the one lying in bed, half-dead to the world all day.”

“All my thoughts feel jumbled. What’s wrong with me?”

Julian looks at me, his gaze hardening. “Don’t know yet, but you seem to be doing better, that is, after IV fluids and some meds. The doc is going to call and let me know when your blood test results come back. Though we’re fairly sure someone tried to poison you.”

“Poison! Why would someone want to poison me?” I never hurt a fly in my life. I can’t possibly wrap my head around that.

“That’s what I’m going to figure out. My cook, who has been with the family for years, was also poisoned. We found her body in the kitchen yesterday morning. She had been eating the leftover breakfast. Specifically, your leftover breakfast.”

Horror strikes me like a lightning bolt. Someone tried to kill me… and it obviously wasn’t the cook since she’s dead too. This new information is unsettling and leaves me feeling thankful for skipping out on breakfast that morning. If I had eaten more, I’d probably be dead.

I’m not sure how to feel about that.

Staring at Julian, my thoughts shift… I can’t help but see how different he is today than he was the other night. Has me being poisoned changed something in him? Made him more human or maybe made him see how easily I could’ve been taken from him? I think back to my delirious state, the tossing and turning, and vomiting, the cramps in my stomach. He was there. I remember seeing him, and I’m certain he held me in his arms and told me everything was going to be okay, but maybe he didn’t. Maybe I completely made up his kindness. It’s not that far-fetched, seeking out comfort when you feel like you’re dying.

Still, I have to know if it was real.

“I might’ve hallucinated it, but I swear you took care of me when I was sick. You held me in your arms… did you?”

Julian turns toward me, his face void of any emotion, and still, something slowly brews in his icy glare. “I hold you in my arms every night when we go to sleep.”

“Yeah, but this was different…” More intimate somehow. I’m usually turned away from him, and he has an arm slung around my waist, holding me to him like he is scared I’m gonna run away in my sleep. Yesterday, his hold was gentle, like he was just holding me for comfort instead of keeping me prisoner.

“You’re going to be my wife. It doesn’t matter how you got here, but me taking care of you is part of the deal. Just like you pleasing me is part of it.”

Of course, it is.

Needing space, I toss the covers back. Looking down at my body, I realize I’m in a pair of pajamas I don’t remember putting on.

“I dressed you. I didn’t want the staff to see you naked.” An image of Julian dressing me while I was passed out, pops into my head, but I shake it away quickly. It’s too creepy to think about. I can feel Julian watching me, and all I want is to get away from him. He’s already proven his point. I’m nothing, an object never meant to be heard and barely seen.

My body has other plans, though, because as soon as I put my feet on the ground and push off the bed to stand, a serious wave of nausea and dizziness slams into me. Knees buckling, I grab onto the nightstand, my nails sink into the wood as I attempt to steady myself, but it’s not enough. My legs are weak, and a flash of hitting the floor appears in my mind.

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