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Chapter 13
Rosalie
I discovered a piece of the garden away from the other mansions on the side of Viktor’s house. It’s where I spend my days with Luna, and I don’t risk running into any of Viktor’s family members.
I’ve trained Luna to sit and stay and am working on getting her to lie down.
Whenever Viktor is home, Luna and I return to my room, where she naps while I read one of my books.
If it weren’t for Luna and all the books, I would’ve lost my mind.
I stole a notepad and pen from Viktor’s office so I can keep track of the days. Every month is a celebration because it brings me closer to my twenty-first birthday.
There are still thirty-three months to go, and God only knows how I’ll get through them. Some days are easier than others, and with Luna’s help, there are moments I forget about my predicament, and the loss of my family isn’t as sharp and heartbreaking.
Viktor’s been busy with work, and there are even days when I don’t see him at all. Like the past two days. He hasn’t been home, and I hate that I slip up and miss him.
What worries me most are the moments I forget who he is. The routine doesn’t help either because this place is starting to feel like home.
And I can’t have that happening.
I can’t forget I’m a captive on this property and that my captor is the man who killed my family.
“Lie down, Luna,” I say, patting the grass.
She playfully jumps back, then comes to sniff my hand.
“No. Lie down,” I try to train her with a gentle voice, softly pressing on her back until she lies down. “See, like this.”
I hear a car’s engine, and before I can grab Luna, she darts toward the black SUV and wiggles her tail and butt in the most adorable way when Viktor climbs out of the vehicle.
I rise to my feet, and unable to stop myself, my eyes drink in the sight of him.
I miss him when he’s not around but hate whenever he’s home. My emotions are extremely conflicted when it comes to the man. And crippling guilt always follows them.
I start to frown when my eyes lock on the red stains covering his rumpled dress shirt and suit jacket.
Blood.
Shock and worry surge through me, my heart instantly beating faster.
As Viktor crouches to give an excited Luna attention, I hurry toward him, asking, “Did you get hurt?”
He straightens up and shakes his head as he glances down at his shirt. “It’s not my blood.”
My eyes widen and zoom in on the stains, my mouth growing dry.
Viktor watches my reaction, then tilts his head. “It’s nice that you were worried about me, though.”
Guilt rears up like a hurricane because I shouldn’t give a damn about what happens to him.
“Come, Luna,” I say with numb lips and spinning around, I hurry back into the house.
Conflicting emotions swirl in my chest.
As I shut the bedroom door behind us, Luna jumps onto the bed and lies down, her big eyes watching me with furrowed brows.
I’m relieved that Viktor didn’t get hurt, but I’m also disgusted because he probably killed again.
