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He nods again.

“Too white.”

“Forgive me if I don’t feel the need to take decorating opinions from someone who until recently lived in her car.”

Ignoring the sharp sting from his counter, I say, “Looks like you’re trying too hard to be different. We get it. Nick Hudson is eccentric.” I roll my eyes as the venomous words flow off my tongue.

“I like an empty canvas for all the artwork. Stark, white, and clean allow the hue and cry of the art to pop.”

He doesn’t raise his voice or counter with something even crueler in response as I expect him to. It throws me off balance. I was readying myself for war, but he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for it. Maybe I should let down my shield some.

He slowly scans me from head to toe. “I don’t like what you’re wearing.”

Never mind… he was just waiting for his next shot. Asshole.

I look down at my yoga pants and sweatshirt that appear to cost more than I’d make in a month. The fabric is so soft that it almost seems too good to be real. I don’t see what’s wrong with what I’m wearing. I bite my tongue before I can tell him something I might regret. Starting the first day of my captivity with an argument is probably not a good idea. This is a war I can’t win in my current circumstances. I must remember that a deal of some sort has been made, and I need to keep my end of the bargain at least until I figure out a plan that can get me out of this nightmare situation. “It was in the pile of clothing that Diane brought up to me.”

Nick tilts his head, his eyes still taking in my appearance. “Diane dressed you in that?”

“Dress me? No. She did offer, which I found odd. I don’t need help getting dressed.”

“Clearly you do, or you wouldn’t be downstairs, moments from dinner, wearing clothing meant for working out. Unless you were planning on going down the hall to my gym before we eat, that is.”

Nick is wearing a white jacket and pants with a black shirt underneath. The shirt is unbuttoned enough to show bright ink where chest hair normally shows on other men. He’s clearly not dressed as casual as me, but when I first saw him as I entered the room, I had just assumed the man always wears suits. I haven’t seen him in anything else.

Don’t all rich fucks wear suits day and night?

He leans back in his chair. “I think we need to get the rules straight from the beginning.”

This has my head spinning. “Rules? You make rules for all your…” Not about to refer to myself as his prisoner, I say, “All your guests to obey?”

“I love making rules. But I love consequences more.”

My stomach flips with how easily the words flow off his tongue.

“So the first rule is, that other than the grounds a short distance from the mansion, you are not to leave without me by your side.” He takes a long drink from his glass. My eyes zero in on the way swallowing makes the black ink on his neck undulate in a seductive way that has my pulse quickening. “I have security placed all around to help enforce that rule.”

“Scared I’ll try to escape?”

He smirks. “Not scared at all. Escaping will get you killed—as well as your brother—as I’m sure you are aware of.”

“I’m not going to try to escape,” I mumble.

So much for getting to know one another. I already know everything I need to know about Nick Hudson. This man is a dick.

I walk toward the other white chair sitting across from him, placing my hands on the cool leather for added support since my legs seem to be growing weak with the way the man is staring at me. I glance around the room, annoyed with his alpha dictates, but also upset that my body seems to be reacting to them as well. My stomach tightens every single time the man speaks, and my heartbeat increases as if his voice is like a shot of adrenaline.

“So I’m to sit inside this mansion, day after day, until my master declares my freedom?” When his eyebrow quirks, I can feel my face start to heat and am quick to clarify, adding, “And how long will this be?”

“I know you have nowhere else to go, Lyriope. So I’d consider my hospitality a gift if I were you. It’s not a threat when I mention you being naked in the wine cellar instead if you choose to not follow my rules… It’s a promise.”

I nod. It isn’t like I have a choice, and there isn’t anything to be gained by rocking the boat. Life will be pretty damn miserable for me if I resist. I am not a fool.

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