Page 24 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“Yes, you do not keep a household alive without cruelty, cunning, strength…”

My mouth fell open slightly.

He hadn’t been…completely awful to me. Hard and unyielding, yes. Selfish, obviously, doing what was best for him. But he could have locked me up in chains, mistreated me, hurt me. Maybe that was coming. I glanced around, taking in my beautiful surroundings, the level of comfort he’d offered me⁠—

“Now, what you need is something to take your mind off things while you’re stuck in bed. I’m afraid we won’t get that shopping spree I promised today. How about some television, hmm?”

I frowned. A vampire dressed from the roaring twenties asking if I wanted to watch TV? It felt absurd. She opened the nightstand drawer and fished out two remotes. She clicked one.

“Oh,” I breathed.

A humming filled the air as a television screen rose from the wooden stand at the end of the bed. Her mouth twitched. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting that?” I shook my head. “Here, this one is for the TV. The streaming apps are already programmed, so you can watch whatever you want.”

“Okay.” It was a weak whisper.

“I have a few matters of business, but I’ll be home later to check on you, yes?”

I studied her face, her delicate features, her tiny button nose, her large, dark eyes. “Thank you.”

“And don’t forget these.” She helped me take two painkillers, lifting me gently the way Laurent had to chase them with a few sips of water, then left. I waited until she was gone to stagger to my feet and visit the bathroom.

Everything hurt, but somehow I completed the task and collapsed back into bed.

Grabbing the remote, I flipped through the channels and settled for reruns of Shadowlands. To think, I’d stupidly believed Laurent was cosplaying the elf king. Maybe if I hadn’t been so naive, I could have bought myself time to escape Kase’s room. Run out onto the landing and scream for help.

And yet, deep down I already knew. He would have caught me easily. Things would have played out exactly as they did.

Eventually, my eyelids began to droop and I dozed off.

Dozing felt good. The perfect escape from it all.

The light in the room changed, but I was only vaguely aware of it. Entire hours slipped by in blissful oblivion until a string of words startled me awake.

“We begin our evening broadcast to bring you an update on last night’s murder at the Yoshiki mansion.”

I jerked upright, scrambling for the remote, increasing the volume.

I stared as a newscaster began reporting on site. The familiar Yoshiki mansion materialized, swarming with news vans and police. My brain sharpened, a furrow forming between my brows. “Investigators are still at work, interviewing those present at the scene of the crime. Daniel Burgos’s body was found in Kase Yoshiki’s bedroom, his neck broken⁠—“

My mind flashed back to Laurent bursting into that room and everything that had happened afterward. He’d told me not to worry about Daniel.

“…several witnesses saw him go into the bedroom with a young woman. Lily Winifred Shaw remains at large, a potential suspect in the possible murder.” My photo flashed on screen. Then the news cut to shaky cell phone footage—Laurent carrying me over his shoulder down the grand staircase while people cheered. “Social media videos from the party show Shaw being carried away by an unidentified male in what witnesses initially thought was a staged performance.”

I couldn’t stop staring, eyes wide with horror.

The reporter continued, “This has led to speculation about whether Shaw was involved in Burgos’s death, or if she may be another victim. The identity of the man in the footage remains unknown, and Shaw’s whereabouts are still unclear.”

My body went numb. Daniel was dead, and I was the prime suspect.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried, forcing myself to move.

The covers were ripped away. I glanced down at myself—barefoot, dressed in a pair of leggings and a different T shirt than earlier. I gathered my strength, ready to raise hell.

The door was unlocked. I left my room, striding through the manor. Laurent looked up when I barged into his office, though he didn’t appear surprised. There wasn’t a single shard of emotion in his empty expression. “Miss Shaw, you should be resting⁠—“

“You lied to me,” I snarled, letting my anger, my sense of betrayal, color my words. He glanced down at his laptop, then calmly shut it before looking back up at me. “You fucking lied to me, Laurent. You killed Daniel. I asked and you told me not to worry about him⁠—“

“Daniel Burgos was a liability,” he explained, like he would to a child. There was zero remorse.