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Alek was pleased with what he saw. He thanked Nikita, and when we got into the car, he complimented me on my new look. To celebrate, he told me he has a surprise for me. He was going to wait, but thought I needed cheering up, seeing as I was attacked by a maniac he created.
I nodded blankly, too numb to even care.
The entire drive back, I thought about Saint and Zoey. What was happening to her downstairs? I have a feeling that “downstairs” is a torture chamber, clad with sharp objects and contraptions that would put the medieval period to shame. It may seem farfetched, but a room such as this is probably a normal necessity in the world of mobsters and drug lords.
Alek has asked—and I use that word lightly—me to join him for dinner. I would rather starve to death, but here I am, fastening the straps on my heels. I assume this dinner isn’t a casual affair, so I’m wearing a burgundy A-line dress with short sleeves and scooped neckline. The hem stops just above the knee.
I don’t know what this surprise entails, and I’ve given up on guessing because anything is possible in this place. When the clock strikes seven, and a knock sounds on the door, it’s now or never. Being escorted everywhere seems to be the norm, so I don’t make a fuss when I see a man standing out in the hallway, ready to show me to the dining room in case I’ve forgotten where it is.
I hide my disappointment that it’s not Saint and follow him down the corridor.
My appetite is completely shot, but the aromatic smells hint that the menu contains something delicious. I wonder what the occasion is. When we enter the dining room, I see that it indeed appears like we are celebrating something because the table is set for royalty.
Alek stands at the head of the long table filled with every food imaginable to mankind. There is too much to list, but the bright colors bring the room to life. “I didn’t know what you liked to eat,” Alek explains when he notices me appraising all the food. “So I had the chefs prepare a bit of everything. I hope you like it.”
“It looks lovely. Thank you.” I keep my reply to a minimum because it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the best dish he could ever serve would be his head on a silver platter.
Alek pulls out the seat beside him, hinting I’m to sit near him. With no other choice, I walk toward him and nod in gratitude. Before I have a chance to sit, he grips my bicep, stirring a panic within. I wait for him to speak, but he simply eats me up from head to toe.
“You look stunning. I usually don’t like women with short hair, but if possible, you look even more beautiful. The blue to your eyes will be the death of me.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. His lips linger for a little too long, but thankfully, he lets me go when a maid enters with more food.
I take this opportunity to sit and subtly shift the seat away from him an inch.
On instinct, I scan the room, looking for an out. Apart from the doorway I entered through and a side door which seems to connect to the kitchen, I’m trapped. Alek pours me a glass of red wine from a crystal decanter.
“Let’s make a toast.” He raises his own glass, gesturing I’m to do the same. “To new beginnings.”
My grip on the glass tightens because I have no idea what that means. Nonetheless, I clink my glass against his and sip the sweet wine. Alek downs his in one gulp while I nurse mine because the liquor turns my already queasy stomach.
He appears awfully animated tonight, like he’s bursting at the seams to tell me something. An excited boy, bouncing in his seat has replaced his usual calm state. I have no idea why that is.
A convoy of servants brings in more food before they begin to serve us. Alek points at what he wants while I merely allow them to choose for me from the selection of cooked fish, sausage, some sort of crumbed frittata, salad, and what looks to be homemade bread.
I don’t mean to be unappreciative because it all looks delicious, but I don’t want to share a meal with his man. But looking down at my mountain of food, I know this isn’t optional.
“Try the fish,” Alek says around a mouthful of food. “It’s simply delicious.”
Picking up my knife and fork, I envision stabbing both utensils into his eyeballs. The vision pleases me more than I care to admit. But it will have to remain a daydream for now. I cut off a piece of the tender fish and try my best to swallow it down. Even though it does taste wonderful, I can’t do this without wanting to be sick.
“So how do you like it here? Is your room comfortable?”
I pause from chewing, wondering if I heard him right. When he tears his bread roll in half and mops up some juice off his plate, I know that I did. He expects us to converse over dinner like we’re friends.
Once I’ve swallowed my mouthful of food, I reach for the wine. “Yes, it’s very comfortable. I would love to see the gardens one day.” I need to familiarize myself with every corner of this place.
Alek chews his food, nodding. “Of course. But baby steps,” he says with a condescending smile. “I can imagine you’re an outdoorsy kind of girl. Growing up in Texas and all.”
I keep my cool as I place my glass onto the table. How did he know where I grew up? I don’t recall ever mentioning it to him. “Yes. I love the outdoors.”
He nods, continuing to eat his meal. “Don’t look so surprised. I’ve done my research on you. You told me your father was a religious man. Are you still religious?”
The cross at my neck burns under his scrutiny. “Not really. How can I be?” I instantly seal my lips shut because I’ve spoken out of line. But Alek has mistaken my response for something else.
“Is that because of your father’s passing?”
The blood drains from my face. How does he know so much about me?
I mentioned my father was a Baptist minister, but I never shared with Alek that he had died. For all he knows, he could have left the church and joined the circus. He knows an awful lot about me, and I don’t like it.
