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“You may but there are conditions you must agree to first.”
I knew it was too good to be true.
“You are not to go anywhere near the Garo’s until I meet with Eric. Is that understood?”
“You’re meeting with Eric Garo? Why?”
“There is much about our world you do not understand child. Eric Garo has become a very powerful man in recent years, but a sworn enemy none the less. I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety.”
I nod not understanding what that means but nod all the same. My head is so badly scrambled I can hardly think straight. I need someone to talk to about all this. I need Lexy.
“Yes.”
“Yes what? You will show respect when you speak to me, Jordina.”
Working my jaw I answer, “yes grandfather.”
“That’s better,” he says piercing his thin lips.
After we go back to the house and Ian has said his goodbyes to Alicia and her mother he takes me around the massive house. From the outside the house looks cold and dark like a medieval castle, but inside its bright and airy with lots of natural light shining through from large bay windows. I learn that the house has thirteen bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and a large formal dining room. Each room we visit has an array of antique ornaments and collectables. Ian talks about the art on the walls he procured from worldwide famous artists that probably cost as much as my house.
“Art is an investment,” he proudly tells me.
Large family portraits and photos of my great-grandparents, great uncles and aunts line the walls of the grand hallway leading all the way up to the top of the oak staircase. I learn about my two uncles that were killed years before my birth by the Garo family. I feel sorry for him to have lost so many. I instantly think of Caleb. I miss him. Will he come to my room at night looking for me? For the comfort only I can give him? Maybe when I go back there to collect my things I can leave him a note or something to tell him what’s happened and that I’m ok.
“May I go home to collect my belongings?” I ask meekly.
Ian stops abruptly grabbing me roughly with his bony fingers squeezing down hard on my wrist. It’s enough to leave a bruise.
“I will not tell you again that this is your home. Your only home. Your old life is gone and it’s about time you accepted that. All your belongings have been brought here and are already in your bedroom closet. You will never set foot in that house again. Do I make myself clear?” he sternly says just as Anthony and another man wearing the same style of clothing walk into the room.
“Yes grandfather. I understand. Please let me go you’re hurting me,” I cry.
A throat behind Ian clears.
“What is it,” Ian spits out letting me go. He keeps his stern gaze locked on me as I rub my sore wrist and the red fingernail marks he left indented on my skin.
“It is all arranged sir.”
“Good. Anthony please accompany my granddaughter to her room where she will remain until I return.”
“Yes sir,” he replies. “Miss Maloti if you would please follow me.”
I want to yell out and scream in his face that it is not my name, but I don’t, I can’t. I’m powerless at this very moment with no control over my life. Over anything.
I do the only thing I can and follow him up the grand staircase past each of the bedrooms until we reach mine. Anthony leads me into the room then turns closing the door behind him.
I pull the room apart but come up empty handed after searching the room for my mobile phone. Defeated I plop down on the bed and allow the tears to fall. Why has this happened? Why did they lie to me? Why couldn’t they have told me? Warned me at least? Allowed me to say goodbye to Millie? I need time away from all of this to think more clearly and I can’t do that here. I need the only person who hasn’t lied to me. I need my best friend. I need Lexy.
Chapter Fifty-one
Jordin
Thedayspassslowlyand I wake to another pounding headache and someone knocking my bedroom door.
Sitting up I rest my head on the headboard rubbing my temple in a circular motion as I call out to whoever it is to come in.
“Good morning, Jordina. Your grandfather sent me up to remind you that breakfast is served in the dining room before everyone departs for their day,” a lady in her mid-fifties with short silver hair called Sareen says looking at me with pity in her green eyes. I haven’t been down for breakfast in days, opting to have it in my room instead.
