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The words—spoken in American English and without accent—registered, and my eyes shot up.
The clearest, cold, blue eyes hit me as if an icicle broke off the ledge of a roof and knocked me flat on my ass.
When our eyes locked, he didn’t look away. Instead, he narrowed his black brows and stared at me.
A blue-eyed devil.
Cold-hearted but intrigued.
And against my better judgment, I held his gaze.
He was different from all the others—bigger, bulkier, and instead of blending in with all the other black suits, he stood out like a sore thumb.
He wore blue jeans, a white T-shirt bulging over his heavily developed chest, a loose, open, gray shirt, and a dark blue tie that hung around his neck like an afterthought but which made his eyes pop.
His hair was long, tied back in a messy man-bun. A lesser man would’ve looked like a hipster. But not him, not even with the stubble covering his strong jaw.
He looked completely at ease, and he looked directly at me, causing butterflies to erupt in my belly.
I wasn’t broken after all.
There was still a little fight left.
He filled my body with life and my head with hope.
I inhaled. His scent was musky and pure male. Dangerous, but also fresh, like he was at home both on Earth and at sea.
His scent matched his blue eyes.
And he saw me, the real me.
I wasn’t invisible.
I was still me.
We maintained our staring contest until someone stepped up to him, said something in Italian, and hugged him.
Only then, I slipped away.
Panting and shivering.
But suddenly awake again.
This was my chance to escape. No shackles, no cage.
On my way across the dining room, I avoided my tormentor, but I always made sure I knew exactly where he was.
The Ape was a big deal around here.
He was residing like a king. Jovial and friendly to everyone.
Almost everyone.
I caught him staring at the blue-eyed devil with a murderous expression.
Pure, unadulterated hatred.
It lasted only a second before he hid it behind a saccharine smile that made me shiver.
