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A pounding ensues in my head, a migraine forming over the whiplash of emotions. One minute, I want to fall into the safety net I hope my captor could provide, then the next, I realize just how insane that idea is. He is a monster, a man who took me in the dead of night and has no plans to ever let me live outside of his reach.

I rub away the tears and attempt to soothe my temples by sitting up and closing my eyes. It doesn't work. Instead, I grow hot, my skin feeling warm with agitation and an overwhelming need to lock myself in a padded cell.

This is it. I've gone mad.

My life before the past forty-eight hours was so bleak, lonely, and desolate that the idea of being with the man who kidnapped me until I die is the most rational thing I can do.

“Arabella, are you all right?” Maxwell asks from the door, startling me a bit.

“Um, yes, sorry. I just have a headache. May I go outside to get fresh air?”

His eyes show his wariness, and I understand.

“You can come with me. I was hoping to go to his mother’s garden.”

His brows lift, shocked at my statement. “You know of his mother’s garden?”

“Yes, he told me about it today. Can we visit it? I won't run, Maxwell. I'm taking your word for it.” I drop my head, closing the book. “Besides, it's not like anyone from my world cares to have me back.” I don't want pity; it's just how I feel. It is what it is. The only man who would care would be my father, but he wouldn’t know I’m even missing.

“One minute, miss.” He removes a cell phone from his black suit jacket, then with a click of the screen, he calls someone.

“Sir. She is requesting to see the garden. Do I have your permission?” He called DeLuca.

I can't hear what he says. But I assume it’s good news when Maxwell gives him a “Thank you” and “Will do.”

“Let’s go. He approved.”

“Looks like he’s both our keeper,” I tease, standing.

How is a doctor so powerful? Why does he have a henchman? I have to question these things, because truthfully, I only see this type of stuff in The Ruin. Could DeLuca be a part of our world? I stop for a minute, thinking of the possibility he could be.

No, there isn’t a chance. If he was, he would know just how dangerous it would be to steal me away. Especially given who my father and husband are.

“You all right, miss?” I stopped abruptly, gaining the attention of Maxwell.

“Oh yes, sorry. Just my headache. I’m still pretty fuzzy. Continue,” I urge him to lead the way. He looks back at me every few steps until we make it to the back double doors leading out to the garden. The second they open, the smell of nature and fresh air hits me, and I can’t help but take in a lungful. It’s a nice sunny afternoon, but not too warm. Perfect. I really did need this. There is so much going on around me, and a sense of clarity is romantic-sounding at this point.

“How long have you known DeLuca?” I ask him when we descend the first few steps into the garden.

“Seven years, ma’am.”

“Enough with the miss, ma’am, and all that. Call me Arabella. Please. It would be nice for some normalcy, given my situation.” I sneak a peek at him. He returns with a nod.

“Why would a man like him, a doctor, need security like you?” I implore, my hands grazing over a mixture of dead and living plants. I plan to make this garden my mission while I'm here.

“He’s a high-profile doctor.”

That couldn’t have sounded more rehearsed if he tried. I scoff out a laugh.

“Really? And I’m not his captive. I see he has you tight lipped.” I pick a single yellow rose that has blossomed amongst weeds. “You said I should trust him. Why?”

“Because I know him well, and I know he has no intentions of hurting you.”

“Then why won’t he just set me free? He’s a handsome man. He could have anyone. Why kidnap someone just to bed them?”

“You will not talk about you in any bed with any fucking man but me, principessa.”

My back stiffens, my core tightening on its own will, captivated by the husky voice that speaks.

“Sir, I'm sorry. I’ll leave you to it.” I hear Maxwell’s fleeting feet, but I have yet to turn around to face the man I know is standing there.

“It was just small talk,” I finally choke out. Intimidated and… God, I’m aroused by him. The fear he instills, the lust he promises. It all makes me so damn needy for him.

“You aren’t making small talk with anyone when it comes to us in the bedroom.”

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