“I’m starting to think you’re insane,” she says as I feel the bed dip once more as she settles in beside me.
“Sleep,” I order groggily.
Her warm breath fans against my face. After a best of silence she says in a hushed tone,” His name is Sebastian. The man I was arranged to marry is Sebastian Rourk.”
“Is this the same Sebastian who manhandled your mother?”
I feel her draw closer. “Yes.”
I can’t help but think of my own mother. How helpless she had been against my father. All those times she tried protecting me. How she seemed to be the only person who maybeunderstood me. Her mother had tried to do the same. It lights a fire within me. “Then I promise you one more thing, I promise you his death, too.”
“Just like that?”
My mind immediately thinks of correcting her. Because it isn’t’just like that’. But I adapt to her lingo. “Just like that.”
“Thank you,” she whispers with such heart and warmth that it cracks my veneer. A tightness happens in my chest.
I swallow. “Thank me when it’s done.”
I then close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of her deep and even breaths.
CHAPTER 20
Imogen
I’ve either entered the twilight zone or an alternate reality.
I can’t even believe I’m about to admit this but living with Rico for the past few weeks has been. . .harmonious.
Or maybe I’m in the very early stages of developing Stockholm Syndrome.
The truth of the matter is I expected a harsher environment. And while yes, my first three days after being kidnapped were a far cry to how I am being held now it was still nowhere near the nightmares I had conjured up in my mind.
Living with the enemy doesn’t feel like living with the enemy at all. It’s actually terrifying how the line continues to blur.
Every night I tell myself this is it. This will be the night I kill him and make my escape.
Yet every night ends the same. With him disarming the knife at his throat and leaving a spot for me on his bed.
And. I. Take. It.
Every single night I fall asleep by his side.
Every morning I wake to him already gone but the scent of him lingers.
Madness must be the only explanation.
“I’m taking you shopping,” Rico says to me after sitting in prolonged silence. He often prefers it. Over the past few weeks I’ve come to know quite a bit about him. And I’m starting to piece together the mystery that is Rico Maroni.
Watching the same tv shows and movies. Eating breakfast at exactly eight o’clock in the morning and not a minute later. The same rule follows with lunch and dinner. If it’s not on the hour then he personally skips it while still serving food to me.
There’s these little quirks one could say that are religiously followed. And if they’re not he’ll excuse himself to be left alone for sometimes hours at a time.
It’s the only time I feel my loneliest. I find myself missing him when he isolates. Insanity on my part I’m sure.
I raise a brow. “Shopping?”
He nods his head. “You need clothes. I had thought your stay wouldn’t have been this long but I was mistaken on how your father would react.”
