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Who knew I would miss such small necessities in life?
Four tall windows adorn the length of a vast hall we walk through. Or more like Aaron walks. I’m struggling to keep up with him. The sound of my slippers against the white and granola marbled floor is anything but quiet. The white walls are decorated with bold vertical lines of gold painting and horizontal beige patterns, obviously designed by an artist. The ceiling holds more gold, less white. A round chandelier with a thousand crystals dangles to the centre. The size so massive that I duck when we pass underneath it. What if it falls atop my head?
You’re being silly, Mae.
The longer we walk, the more I’m dazzled. It’s like I’m assessing an evocative painting. The hall is symmetrically filled with leather chesterfield sofas, high tables and elegant curtains. My mouth drops when we approach the stairs. Beside it, on a high platform, sits a marble statue of a knight on his horse. A black panther in dark stone rests by the horse’s side, his frozen eyes sharp and glinting, made from sapphire. The sword in the knight’s hand has the same crest on Aaron’s ring.
My family is wealthy. I’m used to luxury, but this place is different. It’s old money. Judging from the refined taste, Aaron could either be from a prestigious mafia, or a long chain of aristocrats. His signet ring could be a noble family’s heirloom.
Does that mean he uses his power to get away with kidnapping people? And maybe killing them?
Don’t go there, Mae.
We ascend long marbled stairs, the dark red carpet embellishing them soft underneath my slippers. When we turn into a hallway, I get a brief glimpse of countless tall paintings decorating the walls. From the renaissance to the baroque, romanticism and impressionism eras. There are even East Asian paintings. Wait... is that Robins’ missing painting?
Does Aaron collect art? Or steal it?
We stop at double white doors with the same golden lines of the walls. Aaron gives me his back and my vision gets blocked from whatever he’s doing.
Why is no one here? This place must be kept by servants.
I search the place for a possible exit or a rescuer. Perhaps they don’t know their master is a psycho kidnapper and will help me escape.
“Don’t even think about it.”
My lips part. “How do you know what I’m thinking about?”
“You’re expressive to a fault, mouse,” he says over his shoulder before going back to his task.
Ugh. Whatever.
I tiptoe to peek over his shoulder, but the man is too damn tall. My upper body leans sideways to get a better view. His fingers type on an electronic screen before
he presses enter.
Ah. A password.
“Always a curious little kitten, aren’t you?” He faces me, and I’m relieved that irritation has completely left his features. Only clear midnight eyes.
Wait. Are those...
As if compelled by an alternate force, my feet shift closer until my chest almost grazes his. Aaron doesn’t move; he merely raises an eyebrow as if wondering what I’ll do next.
Tiptoeing, I use both hands to clutch his face and bring it down to stare into his fascinating eyes. I didn’t notice them before due to the lack of light. You have to look quite close to spot them. Flecks of grey interrupt the darkness of his irises, spiralling them into an imperfectly perfect harmony.
Holy. Damn.
Why is his imperfection even more beautiful than his perfection?
“What are you doing?”
Warm breaths tickle my skin. I’m holding his face in a way where his mouth is an inch away from mine.
I release him with a jerk and step backwards. Heat flushes my cheeks. “N-nothing.”
He narrows his eyes. I look down, unable to take his suspicious stare.
“Follow me.” He pushes the double doors. My steps imitate his own, grateful that he doesn’t press the issue.
