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23
Evelyn
Ifreeze, hardly daring to believe what I just heard.
Why would my father be here?
Does he know I’m here?
Did he come to rescue me?
It doesn’t make any sense.
How could he possibly know that I’m here? Even I don’t know where here is … I need to find out.
I don’t move as Valentine dresses, remaining curled up on the bed beneath the black silk robe. He doesn’t speak or acknowledge me in any way as he adjusts his appearance in the mirror before walking over to the door.
He stops just before opening it.
“You may have escaped my son,” he says, speaking to me over his shoulder, “but if you try to escape me, I’ll make sure it’s the last time you ever use your legs again.”
With that, he pulls open the door, slamming it shut behind him.
I hardly dare to breathe for the next minute as I listen, but the click of the door locking never comes. I wait another few seconds before pushing myself up off the bed.
I need to hurry if I’m going to have any chance of following Valentine to my father, but I can’t run around butt naked.
Dante’s shirt lies torn on the floor, and I have no idea where my underwear or shorts are.
As much as I hate it, the black robe will have to suffice.
Grabbing it, I wrap it around my body before hurrying over to the door. It opens easily, and I peek out to check the hall. To my surprise, it’s empty and I quickly exit the bedroom.
Thankfully, this bedroom appears to be at far end of the hall, making it easy to know which way to go.
I follow the hall until it splits off and peer around the corner, trying to decide which way to go before finally realizing it doesn’t matter. I just have to find a waydown.
Choosing the hall that seems to cut through the center of the building, I hurry along it in search of any sign of an elevator or stairs.
Keeping to the right, I end up turning down several more hallways before I hear footsteps approaching and have to press myself flat into the recess of a nearby doorway.
Two men in black suits pass by, and I notice they have guns hidden beneath their jackets as one of them moves to adjust his belt. Why does this place feel more like a mafia den than Dante’s penthouse or mansion?
It doesn’t matter. I just need to be careful that Valentine’s threats don’t become my reality.
As soon as the men sound like they’re far enough away, I slip to the corner and head in the opposite direction they came from. Light spills in from the far end of the corridor, and as I draw nearer, I find a large archway that opens up on a winding stairwell.
Only, the stairwell isn’t tucked away in some dark corner of the building … no the entire curved outer wall is glass all the way down with a glass dome making up the ceiling. Sunlight pouring in from nearly every direction.
My knees nearly buckle at the thought having to walk down the stairs while having to look out from this great height over the city, but I don’t see an elevator anywhere nearby.
Stairs it is.
Taking a deep breath, I clutch the robe closed with one hand as I grip the inner railing with my other and make my way down as quickly as I can. I try my best not to look out over the city, but I can’t help myself after going down several flights.
I feel nauseous instantly, and have to close my eyes to breathe through it for a few seconds before refocusing on my descent, this time keeping my eyes trained down. After what must be a thousand years, I finally reach the bottom of the stairs and immediately have to press myself against the wall as several more men walk by.
Peeking around the corner, I sprint off as fasts as I can without my bare feet slapping against the tile. I have no idea where I’m going, but I must be drawing near as I have to duck behind furniture and into hallways and nooks more and more frequently to avoid being spotted by Valentine’s men.
