Page 54 of Vendetta

“I’m Oliver, but you can call me Ollie. Nico and Cruz had to run an errand and won’t be back for a while. They told me to feed you.” He sat and picked up his fork.

Errands to cut off more fingers, probably. I shook that thought away and picked up my utensils. My stomach chose that moment to groan in protest despite the disgusting thought. I hesitated, but as he bit into his food, my resolve crumbled, and I started to eat. I was too hungry to worry about body parts, poison, or to bother responding.

Fuck, this was good, though. The bacon was just crisp enough, the scrambled eggs with cheese were light and fluffy, and the over-medium egg had the perfect runny yolk to sop up with golden-brown, buttered bread. I shoveled it all into my mouth. The only thing that would have made this better was French toast, which I kept getting whiffs of.

I didn’t want to believe the smell was coming from the hoodie, so I sniffed the collar to be sure. The scent grew stronger. If I could’ve side-eyed myself, I would’ve. Was I bonkers to think the fabric was where it was coming from? It had to be, but why?

“You didn’t tell me what kind of eggs you wanted, so I gave you options. I see you don’t have a particular preference.” He smirked, picking up a piece of bacon to snack on while he watched me inhale the meal he’d cooked.

“Fuck you. They starved me. The last thing I had was a mimosa at brunch yesterday morning. I’m fucking hungry,” I said, not lifting my eyes from my food. Come to think of it, I hadn’t had breakfast yesterday either, but I was being a little dramatic. I was hangry, give me a break.

With a scrape, his plate slid into my line of sight. “Eat. I can make more.”

As I finished off my plate and moved to his, I realized I probably looked like some kind of rabid animal. I hadn’t been on the lookout for a mirror, but the full face of makeup and the coiled up-do I’d had before the incident with the trunk were probably a scene out of a horror movie by now.

Suddenly, I felt very self-conscious. He hadn’t seemed to mind while he was eyeing me up by the door, though. There was absolutely no reason I should care what he thought about me, I had to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible.

The less I knew about this guy, the better. I pushed the mostly empty plates toward the center of the table. “Look, I know you were told to babysit me, but I really have to get out of here. My friend is being held captive, and my father is in danger. Let me go, and I’ll make it worth your while. Whatever they’re paying you, I can double it.” I had no idea whether that was true, but it sounded plausible.

Ollie scoffed out a chuckle. “You really have no idea what is going on, do you?”

“Why don’t you enlighten me then?” I steepled my fingers in front of my lips and trained my eyes on his.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Nah. There’s no fun in that. You want a shower?”

My skin warmed at the suggestion, but I reminded myself it didn’t matter how hot he was, he was the Moreno’s henchman. I did want a shower, desperately, but I ran the real risk of being murdered if I didn’t get out of this house. He wasn’t buying my bribery attempt, but I had to find a way.

As I moved to get up, the scent from the hoodie flooded my nose again, enveloping me in a warm cloud. My head felt like a balloon on a string, stretched tight enough to pop. My intention to refuse slipped through my fingers like sand, and I heard myself speaking, but it sounded far away. “Uh, yes?”

Really, I’d agree to anything to get away from his pale blue stare and the perfume on this sweater. He said it was his and that meant these had to be his pheromones. The pieces were starting to click together, and I didn’t like where they were leading. I was trapped for now, but at least a shower would get his delicious scent off me.

He smiled, and a dimple puckered his cheek. “Okay then. Come on.”

He led me back down the hall I’d come through from the basement and stopped, hesitating as he looked from the door on our right, which was the bathroom I’d used earlier, to the one on the left. After a second’s pause, he opened the one on the left. That door had been locked the last time, I was sure of it.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, more of his incredible scent poured over me, holding me hostage for a moment, just breathing it in. My body tingled all over. I’d never smelled anything so good. It was as if the entire room was filled with slabs of French toast piled to the ceiling. But there was nothing like that in here. Just this beautiful man.

I shook my head, trying to shrug it off.

Focus, Rosa.

Dark charcoal walls surrounded me on every side, matching the thick plush carpet cradling my sore feet. It felt a little bit like a cave compared to the rest of the bright, airy house, but like a cozy, snug sort of cave. While I was busy taking in my surroundings, he skirted past the bed—piled so high with blankets it was almost unrecognizable—and the wall of blank TV screens at its foot.

He pushed open a pocket door, revealing a bathroom decked out in expensive finishes in more charcoal with wood accents. He turned on the water to heat and stepped back out of the doorway. “Take as long as you need.”

I slipped past him and closed the door, shutting him out. There was a window, just as I’d hoped, but it was tiny and high above the glass-enclosed shower. Even if I could figure out how to get up there, I was pretty sure I couldn’t fit through this one. I stripped out of the hoodie and the indecent dress, only to find my thighs drenched with slick.

This guy couldn’t be my scent-match. Some fucking Moreno crony. It was better than the Moreno heir, but not by much. The more I thought about him being some random henchman, the less sense it made . He cooked in their kitchen, had his own room, and walked around as if he owned the place.

Whatever he was, this had to be trauma bonding, or magnetic attraction, or hallucinations? Drugged euphoria? Stockholm syndrome? I was in a bad situation, clinging to any kindness. He fed me breakfast for dinner. That was a guaranteed shortcut to my heart.

None of this meant anything.

The water was already starting to warm, and steam coated the foggy mirror, obscuring my reflection. Only the blur of raccoon eyes greeted me when I tried to make out the monster peering back. It was better that I couldn’t see details. It would only make me feel worse about myself. I shrugged it off and stepped into the shower. The scrapes on my feet stung as hot rivulets of water rushed over my skin, leaving rivers of mud in their wake.

A full-body shudder coursed through me, and my tense muscles let go. I caught myself on the tiled niche and lowered myself to the bench. What little strength I had leached from my body, and my eyes stung with the pain I’d bottled up. I’d tried so hard to escape, to be strong, to do anything but think about what was actually happening, only for it to backfire and make everything worse. I hadn’t given myself the chance to really consider my circumstances and how much danger I was in. The turmoil twisted in my chest like a blade.

As the water soothed my raw skin, I let myself feel the things that I’d buried over the last few days.