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Sophia was the first woman to come to my home and see the most intimate parts of my life. This is not the life I imagined for myself, but I’m starting to think that it’s not so bad.
Chapter 15 - Sophia
It’s too quiet.
At home, the sounds of people in the house and the humming city create a lullaby that usually puts me to sleep within minutes. Out here in the hills, everything is too quiet. Too peaceful.
Even the guards wandering around outside aren’t enough to break the silence of the night.
Sighing, I hike the soft blankets higher up my body and stare at the dark ceiling. Ivan has been gone for hours and I still don’t know when he will come home.
Reaching out, I feel the cool sheets and stare at the empty space beside me.
I wish he were here. God, I'm already so dependent on him.
I turn over, bury my face in the pillow, and try to close my eyes. It’s been a long day and I need some rest. I inhale and hope for the scent of Ivan’s cologne on the pillow. There's a little trace of it, but it's not enough to lull me into the sleepy and safe state I'm in when he wraps his arms and body around me like a fleece.
Hopefully, he comes home soon. I don’t like being alone in a strange place.
I yawn, sit up in bed, and pull the blankets up around me as the quietness seems to grow unbearably loud. As if the night couldn’t get any worse, the silence is broken by the sound ofheavy rain. The stars fade in the sky as the clouds move quickly, opening up and pouring down on the world.
Groaning, I run my hands over my face before throwing back the blankets. There's no way I’ll be able to sleep like this. I don’t know why I bother trying.
The hardwood floor is cool against my feet as I stand up and look out the window. The rain comes down in sheets, blurring the rest of the property.
Ugh, I hate this rain.
I grab my silk robe and tie it around my waist. Then I head towards the kitchen, where I left my textbooks and the paper I'm working on. If I’m going to stay awake for the rest of the night, I might as well get some work done.
And then when Ivan comes home, I can devote myself to him. I know he’ll like that.
The hallways are dark and none of the lights come on.The lightning must have blown a fuse.Shadows dance from one side of the hallway to the other. Thunder rumbles outside as I run my hand along the wall, trying to find my way. This house is so big that I’m lucky if I don’t get lost in the dark.
A flash of lightning lights up the kitchen. I make my way to the island, open the drinks fridge, and take out a bottle of water.
The thunder roars again and my pulse begins to pound. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I sip my water, trying to calm the nerves coursing through me. Something doesn’t feel right. This is creepy.
As lightning flares up again, I look out of the window and see bodies strewn across the terrace. Dark stains seep out ofthem and over the light stone. I freeze and smack my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream. My hands tremble as I put the glass slowly down on the counter and take a knife from the knife block.
Shit, someone is attacking.
As I dive under the dining table, my pulse jackhammers. I can only hear the rush of blood in my ears as I crawl further under the massive table. My shoulder slams into one of the chair legs and pain shoots up my arm. I bite down on a groan. There is no way of knowing if anyone is already in the house.
The back door jiggles in its tracks and a flash of lightning illuminates a man standing at the door. I watch through the legs of the chair as the door opens and the man enters. Water drips from his clothes onto the tiles.
I try to make myself as small as possible, not wanting to be seen. As I grip the knife, my knuckles turn white.
Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.
Footsteps echo across the floor and my heart skips a beat. I crouch down and watch the person moving through the kitchen and into the living room. My stomach tightens into a knot. The heavy steps continue to echo through the house, getting quieter and then louder again. I stifle a whimper and pull my arms close to my body as shoes appear in the kitchen doorway.
The man stands there too long and does not move. His quiet, even breathing is the only sound I can hear between the rolling thunder. Lightning throws his silhouette against the opposite wall of the kitchen as the rain pours in through the open backdoor.
As the puddle on the floor grows larger, my grip on the knife begins to ache. I grit my teeth and hold it tighter as the footsteps start again.
Can he hear the beating of my heart? Can he smell my fear?
I should have gotten up and run while I had a chance. I might have been able to make it to the outside if I had tried.
