Nial’s shoes echoed off the high walls as he led the way, his straight posture exuding power and confidence.
When we arrived at the biggest living room I’d ever seen, we were greeted by two maids. Their heads were lowered, and neither of them could look him in the eyes.
He glanced at me and said something to them in Russian before walking further into the room.
They both approached me with polite smiles. “This way, miss,” one said to me in accented English. “Let’s take you to your room.”
My room?
They led me up the curved staircase at the corner, under the warm glow of an expensive chandelier. I felt out of place, considering how dirty and unkempt I was. Even the maids smelled and looked better than I did.
We went upstairs, through a long hallway, the walls adorned with abstract paintings and portraits. The maids retained their smiles, although they didn’t speak a word. We reached a closed door, and one of them withdrew a bunch of keys.
She inserted the right one into the keyhole, gave it a gentle twist, and the door opened without a creak.
“Here you go, miss,” she said, stepping inside. “Welcome to your new space. If you need anything—anything at all—please don’t hesitate to use the call button by the bedside.”
My eyes fell on the king-sized bed that dominated one side of the room. The mattress was covered in crisp white sheets, smooth and almost untouched by human hands. The white duvet was thick and precisely folded back, with decorative pillows arranged in perfect symmetry.
I’d seen luxury before, in courthouse corridors funded by old money, in penthouses belonging to government officials.
But this was different.
The room was bigger than my apartment—and this wasn’t an exaggeration. It was massive. The warm glow of the hanging chandelier lit the space, and the air carried a faint scent of clean linen and fresh flowers.
A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across the bed. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along one side of the room, draped in sheer ivory curtains. A set of plush couches was arranged around a low coffee table, decorated with a couple of faux books and a flower vase.
Everything in here was perfectly placed.
Clean.
Beautiful.
“The bath has been prepared for you, and there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe,” the second maid said, her voice pulling me back to reality. She gestured toward the massive piece of furniture in the corner. “I’m sure they’ll fit you just fine.”
I hesitated for a moment, trying to process what was happening. “Thank you.”
“It’s our pleasure, miss,” said the first maid, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t forget to push that button if you need anything.”
With that, the two women quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.
I combed my fingers through my hair and caught my reflection in the full-length mirror by the vanity. My lips were cracked, my clothes looked like rags, and my skin was marred with dirt. I looked like a homeless girl who hadn’t eaten for days.
As luxurious and safe as this place was, it was still a cage. Just wider, better looking, and more gilded. I was still a prisoner, and he was still my captor.
I took my clothes off, glanced at my reflection one more time, and headed into the bathroom. The water was clean and warm, a basic luxury that I’d been deprived of for days.
As I washed my body thoroughly, my mind went back to the incident that almost broke me. The face of my attacker flashed in my head, his echoing voice reminding me how close I’d come to getting violated.
If Nial hadn’t shown up when he did, that asshole would’ve had his way with me. The mere thought of that alone irritated me.
The warm water washed over me, and I scrubbed even harder, as if trying to erase the memory. I couldn’t bring myself to think about what my fate would’ve been if Nial had been one minute late.
How did he even know I was in danger? Had he forgotten something and come back to get it when he saw the scene? And why did he react so violently toward his cousin? Not that I didn’t appreciate it—I just wanted to understand his motive.
I hadn’t seen him so furious before. It was like he’d unleashed the monster I’d always known he was. And even though I wasn’t his target, his reaction scared the hell out of me.
Was he protecting me? Or was he punishing the bastard for disobeying his instructions?
