“You have my word,” he says, the spell now broken. “I won’t harm Sasha.”
I’m stunned at the ease of his promise, at the willingness of it. But of course, I take it. I rush to say, “N-neither you, nor your family oranyoneworking for you.”
His mouth twitches upward. “I promise.”
Relief whooshes past my parted lips, giving me the courage to push for more.
“Why did you take me? What will happen to me here?”
“Ah,” he drawls. “A little greedy, aren’t we? When I ask you questions, you don’t answer. And yet you expect me to be open with you.”
That’s fair, I guess. Still, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He’s already seen me naked and made me… come… but at least I still have agency over who I am. Over what I choose to reveal to him about myself. And maybe I could use it to my advantage somehow.
His gaze drops to his wound and I take the opportunity to take my dress off the floor and slip into it again. When I’m done, I follow him with my eyes, noticing the patch of blood gleaming at the side of his abdomen.
“You should get that checked out,” I say.
The curiosity with which he’s watching me morphs into something like disappointment or frustration over not getting any information out of me, like he probably hoped. Igniting this feeling in him makes my chest flutter with pride.
His expression changes once more, hitting me with that casual, carefree look he usually has plastered on his face.
“So thoughtful of you. And here I was, thinking you wanted to murder me.”
I scoff, and he grabs the back of my neck, gentle but dominant, like a master walking his pet out of the room. Tendrils of heat flood my most intimate parts, and I swallow, careful not to let him see how much it affects me.
“W-Where are we going?”
“Wearen’t going anywhere. I’m taking you back to your room, and then I have business to take care of.”
I twist my neck to see him as we walk down the hallway. “Last night, you said we were going somewhere this morning. I don’t want to be stuck in that room anymore.”
“Well, that’s too bad, love. If you’re going to act like a wildcat, you’ll be locked in a cage until you learn to purr.”
“You’re delusional if you think I’ll ever play your stupid fucking game.”
He brings me past the doorsill of my room, then releases the hold on my neck.
“You’re already in my game, Victoria. And unless you haven’t noticed, all you do is lose.”
***
Wolfgang doesn’t come back for the next week and a half, keeping me on edge about his return.
I wonder if he stitched up the wound. I wonder if it left him a scar to remember. I hope it did. Almost every night, the whistling continues, keeping me up when my eyes are closing from exhaustion. I wake up groggy and sad, my new reality settling in brick by brick. And I have absolutely nothing to do all day—bastard hasn’t even left me a book to read or a TV to watch.
I’m stuck in this room, watching the mountains stretch in the distance. The trees are getting greener, the grass taller, and the birds louder.
Summer is almost here, and I’m stuck in this room instead of being out there, riding a horse through the meadows until my aching thighs force me to stop. I’ve avoided thinking about it much because I refused to think I’d never get the chance to ride again. But after these past few days, I’m starting to believe that might actually be the case. And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t crushing me.
The key twists in my door, and I perk my head up from my camel yoga pose on the floor, seeing a tray of food come in first.
“Good morning,” I rush to say, embarrassed at how excited I get over the smallest things now—like seeing anyone other than my own reflection in the mirror. “How are you today?”
Corinne barely looks my way before placing the covered tray on my vanity desk.
Taking off the lid is another one of the few things I look forward to. It’s the thrill of finding out what I’m eating for breakfast—will I get a dessert or just my macros today? She never answers. In fact, she hasn’t uttered a single word to me over the past few days other than telling me her name.
She looks like a kind person, so I’m tempted to think she’s just following orders. Which would make sense… if Wolfgang wanted to punish me for lashing out at him.
