AllFreeNovel
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I’m right. I quickly explore the room and find that there are clothes in the dresser and closet. They’re all my size and styled to match the persona I’ve been performing: all preppy, innocent sundresses and chic little designer outfits. In the huge marble bathroom, there are luxurious toiletries, beauty products, every kind of appliance and accessory… Someone has stocked the place perfectly for a female guest.
Maybe this is where he brings all his gambling trophies.
I shower and pick out a simple pink sundress from the closet. There’s a designer tag, and the cost would pay my rent for a month back in the city, but I pull it on with fresh lingerie, blow-drying my hair and adding makeup, too. It’s a change not reaching for the heavy eyeliner, or badass lipstick stain, but I guess I was dressing to send a message back in New York, too.Don’t fuck with me.
What message should I be sending now, I wonder. Seduce me? Covet me?
Love me?
Once I’m dressed, I feel better. More like an actress, playing a role. Because I am one. And I can’t risk breaking character for a moment, not with Sebastian so close.
And my plan for revenge underway.
There’s still no sign of him when I go back downstairs, so I spend the day exploring my surroundings. I need to get my head wrapped around where I am and what’s to come. The island is gorgeous, with sand and ocean everywhere I look. I take a long walk on the beach, breathing in the salty air. I try to calm myself and focus, but it’s impossible. This place is a paradise, but I feel like I’m in hell.
And I’m stuck with the devil.
After idly roaming as far as I dare, I return to the house, for some real exploring. After all, everything I’m doing is in order to get close to Sebastian.
To discover his secrets. His weaknesses.
And use them against him.
So, I tentatively wander the gleaming, minimal rooms. It’s vast and airy—and has exactly zero personal touches. No photographs, no mementos—at least—not on display in the main rooms. Maybe they’re shut away somewhere, or maybe a ruthless business titan like Sebastian doesn’t have a soft spot for personal items. I come across the butler reading a newspaper in the kitchens, and a woman dusting the sleek furniture, but otherwise, no one else is present.
I’m alone here with him.
Finally, I discover a music room, towards the back of the house. There’s a couch, record player, and a grand piano, sitting in the corner. Untouched.
It’s been a long time since I played. There’s not much use for classical piano in the mafia underworld, but I find myself drifting over and taking a seat on the polished bench. It’s a gorgeous instrument, and I can’t resist the urge to lift the fallboard and place my fingers on the keys. It’s perfectly tuned. I don’t even have to think about what I want to play. A few seconds of tinkering around to warm up, and I’m ready.
The first notes of “Let It Be”by The Beatles have an immediate calming effect on me. The melody is soothing, a memory of a happier time. I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the music. I start to sing along, lyrics that I didn’t even realize I remembered flowing out me, and I pour my heart into it.
For just a few moments, I forget about the seriousness of my situation and let my grief fall to the back of my mind. It’s a relief, even though I know it won’t last.
When the song ends, I let out a breath of longing. For the happier time, when I would play more often. When I was innocent about the world, and all the dark deeds that happened in it.
The sound of applause snaps me out of my reverie. I open my eyes, and startle at the sight of Sebastian in the doorway, watching me. “Bravo,” he says, and I can’t tell if his tone is sarcastic.
It must be.
I’m mortified. I didn’t expect him to catch me singing. It’s something I only do in private. I feel exposed. Even the people closest to me haven’t heard my voice like this.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, jolting up from the stool. “I just found it, and—”
Sebastian holds up a hand, silencing me.
“No need to apologize. Please, a fine instrument deserves to be played, don’t you think?”
I flush at the double meaning.
Sebastian crosses the room and takes a seat on the small bench beside me. There’s barely room for the both of us, and his thigh is pressed against mine, hot.
“You… Play?” I blurt, unnerved by his sudden presence beside me.
I can smell him. The low, spicy notes of his aftershave drift through the air between us, and when he places his hands on the keys, his arm presses against mine.
“A little,” Sebastian replies.
