I let out a dry chuckle. “Let those slippery water bastards believe what they want, but the Ashen will never set foot here. They won’t strike a deal with me. Not now. Not ever.”
Luca nodded, though his expression remained guarded.
“How about Vincenzo? Anything interesting happening on his end?”
“Nothing exciting,” Luca said, shrugging. “Same old shit.”
I raised an eyebrow, my gaze sharpening. “And Celeste?”
The subtle shift in his posture was telling—his weight shifted from one foot to the other, his arms relaxing slightly but only in an effort to hide his discomfort. “Celeste is thriving,” he said after a pause.
A slow smirk spread across my face. “I’m sure she is.” I waved a hand dismissively. “That’ll be all, Luca. Thank you for the update.”
He nodded stiffly, shooting one last glance at Jareth before leaving the office. The tension in the room eased slightly once he was gone.
“Well,” Jareth said, lounging back against the bookshelf once more. “He’s still as fun as ever.”
“He’s effective,” I corrected. “And I’ll expect you to be just as effective moving forward.”
“Of course. You can count on me, boss.”
I didn’t reply, already turning my attention to the small glowing sphere I pulled from my desk drawer. I tapped it once, and it flattened into a 4D image of my estate. In the center of the display, a flashing red dot indicated Vivian’s location.
If she dared to try escaping again, I would know instantly. And she would suffer the consequences.
10
VIVIAN
Istared at the open door like it might sprout teeth and lunge at me. It had been ajar for hours—or maybe it was only minutes. Time was an abstract blur in this place. Freedom dangled on the other side, but I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that it was a trap laid by a predator who thrived on manipulation.
My fingers brushed the diamond choker around my neck. The delicate chain was deceptively beautiful. Its clasp was still warm from where The Shadow had locked it in place, and it glowed faintly. Could he do more than track my movements? Hear my voice? See me? The bastard had a lot of nerve. He put a fuckingcollaron me with an invisible leash and called it a necklace. Asshole.
The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine. My pulse quickened, not from fear but something else. What if he could see me? Every moment, every detail? What about when I showered? My throat tightened at the idea of those piercing dark eyes, their gaze stripping me bare.
I clenched my fists.Get a fucking grip, Vivian.
But then there was his face. His gorgeous, fucking infuriating, utterly unethical face. It wasn’t fair. How couldsomeone so cruel, so unhinged, be so damn beautiful? Tall—he had to be at least six-four or six-five—with jet black hair, pulled back like he had better things to do than worry about appearances. Lean, athletic, but solid—his chest had felt like carved stone when he carried me.
I had never seen a creature so sexy.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I cursed under my breath. “No. Absolutely not.”
This was adrenaline. Stress. Maybe even trauma. Not desire. Definitely not that. I was a fuckingprisonerin his shadowy little kingdom, wearing his damn enchanted necklace. He wasn’t a brooding hero. He was a monster in disguise. He was notPrince Charming.He was the fucking villain.
I exhaled sharply and glared at the open door again.
“If thisisa trap, then it’s the dumbest fucking trap I’ve ever seen.”
I pushed off the bed and padded across the room, my bare feet silent against the cool floor. The mansion was eerily quiet, the silence pricking at the edges of my nerves. I hesitated in the doorway, glancing back at the room, the prison where I’d spent too many hours drowning in my thoughts.
Screw it. If he wanted me to sit here like a good little bride-to-be, he’d learn soon enough that obedience wasn’t in my vocabulary.
I stepped into the hallway, and the illusion peeled back, revealing the true grandeur of the estate. The mansion was a world unto itself, a labyrinthine fortress that pulsated with an ancient magic that was both breathtaking and suffocating.
The polished floors beneath my feet gleamed like black obsidian, their reflective surface rippling as if the shadows themselves were watching me. The walls were adorned with carvings so intricate they seemed to shift under the light of the floating orbs that lined the corridor. Each orb was suspendedin midair, their soft glow casting silvery patterns that danced across the ceiling.
My fingers trailed along the carvings etched into the walls. Ancient symbols, some I recognized as protection runes, others I couldn’t begin to decipher. They pulsed faintly under my touch, like a heartbeat. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the so-called necklace around my throat. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the runes were watching me just as much as The Shadow likely was.
