She’s still recovering from what’s happened in the last forty-eight hours.
But, more importantly, I’m worried about Caelian.
I’m waiting for the bright headlights of his car to pierce the darkness outside my window.
He’s furious with me. More furious than he’s ever been before. He couldn’t even share a room with me. Dinner ended early because he couldn’t stand being in my presence.
When he bathed me last night, I’d felt the difference in how he touched me. He barely looked at me, and the few times he did, I caught the unmistakable flicker of betrayal.
I’m not sure how I can fix this. If it’s even possible for us to return to before.
We’d figured our marriage out—or so we thought. We were happy.
And then Mom showed up, bringing outside world problems into our home. I was coerced into doing what I’ve done so many times before.
Sacrificing myself for the survival of our family.
I haven’t even begun to process Mom and Dad’s real motives. They’ve sold me a specific story for most of my life. I trusted and believed them, but it seems what I was told wasn’t the whole story.
Mom and Dad aren’t who I’ve always thought they were.
Trying to reconcile that revelation with the fractures in my marriage to Caelian feels impossible. How can I ever get him to see I wasn’t acting out of my own accord? I was manipulated and fed lies.
He won’t even be in the same room with me…
“Where are you?” I whisper again. If possible, I lean closer. My breath fogs up the glass. I wipe my palm against the smooth, cold surface and strain my eyes peering at the inky darkness.
In typical Caelian fashion, his staff refuses to give any details.
Umberto had nothing to offer when I asked him where Caelian was going off to. Ms. Poitier told me she wasn’t allowed to disclose, and Matteo laughed and made sure I understood he’d never blab on his boss.
I sigh and finally turn away from the window.
I’m left no choice but to take matters into my own hands. Caelian would be even more furious if he learned that I am. But what else am I supposed to do other than wait in this room for hours on end? What if Caelian never returns?
Nero’s men are probably scouring the city looking for me and my parents. There’s a good chance they’ll run into Caelian.
I cross the room to the armoire on the other side. After slipping into a change of clothes, I check that my most importantpossessions are still zipped inside my backpack—my snow globe, my wallet, my laptop—and I slide it onto my shoulders. Moving onto the dresser, I pick out what I’m looking for among the perfume bottles and hairbrush. A tiny metal hairpin that’s exactly what I need if I’m going to get out of here.
I’m no pro at picking locks.
During my espionage training with the dance company, we learned extensively how to undo many different kinds of locks. I was never very good at it, even if I was deemed adequate enough by the instructors.
Vague memories of my spy training flit in and out of my mind as I stick the hairpin into the keyhole and give a twisty motion.
Like with my previous escape attempts from Caelian’s estate, I haven’t thought about what I’ll do once I make it out the front door. I’m trusting in my luck that maybe I’ll be able to stow myself away in one of the vehicles belonging to his crew. They switch out shifts around dawn. The night shift goes home while the day shift comes on.
The door creaks, but I’m ready for it. I pause the second it makes the squeaky noise, listen for any reaction, and then slip the rest of the way out.
The second-floor hall is empty. I scurry toward the staircase, holding my breath as if it’ll make me invisible. I’ll breathe later… once I’ve been reunited with my brutal capo of a husband.
The man who I’ve begun dreaming about. If he had any idea how much he’s come to mean to me…
I make it onto the first-floor landing.
Ms. Poitier appears just as I’m darting for the foyer. Any surprise she feels about catching me downstairs quickly dissolves for scolding. She puts her hands to her waist and raises her brows.
“Care to tell me what you were doing?” she asks. “Where were you going dressed like that?”
