I tell myself to breathe, and I do—though the action is painstakingly slow. I want to cry. I want to run out the front door and hide until it’s time to leave. I’m stupid…so stupid for playing into Xander’s twisted game. I should have known better than to take his bait, but he knew exactly what to say—exactly what to dangle in front of me to make me lose control.
I stroll the seemingly endless hall, feeling frazzled and stressed. Damon said to go to a bedroom upstairs—well, he should have given me a damn road map with instructions.
All the doors are closed…so how am I supposed to know where the bedrooms are? Or what rooms I can enter and what rooms I cannot.
It feels like a trap—like one wrong move and something’s going to jump out and get me. I already had a taste of fear downstairs when Damon nearly took my finger off. What’s the worst he could do now? Cut one off?
I open the first door to my right and pop my head in. It’s dark, but the light from the hallway allows me to see this is a sitting room of sorts. I close this door and try the next. My stomach clenches. What if Damon finishes his meal and I haven’t found a bedroom? Worse yet, what if his brother gets to me before he does?
With shaky hands, I twist the knob on the next door. I sigh, my eyes taking in the huge walk-in shower and clawfoot tub. Clearly, this is a bathroom, and one that’s bigger than the bedroom in my apartment.
Who has a bathroom this big?
I shake my head, my feet starting to ache from walking in these heels. Leaning against the wall in the hallway, I slip them off my feet. The floor is cold against my feet, but it’s a welcome feeling to my burning hot skin.
I tiptoe down the hall, stopping at another door. What I find behind it is so unbelievable, I think I might have landed in an alternate universe.
This room is unlike any other I’ve seen. The walls are painted pale blue. The furniture is white, and the room is lit with a nightlight that casts stars across the ceiling.
Is this a nursery?
I hold a hand to my lips. Is this...? Is this Xander’s child’s bedroom? No, it can’t be. Maybe it’s one of his worker’s children? Or someone else’s? There is no way Xander has a baby. No way.
A calming melody plays from a small toy sitting on top of the dresser. My feet move forward without my brain agreeing to do so. I only make it two steps before a voice drags me back to the present.
“I don’t think this is the bedroom Damon was referring to when he told you to go upstairs.” Xander’s voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
Impulsively, I turn around to face him. His expression is hidden in the shadows, and I wonder what my punishment will be for crossing such a line.
“I…I didn't know.”
“You ever heard the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’?”
I nod, unable to make my tongue work. My throat is completely closing up, and my pulse beats furiously in my ears.
What’s he going to do?
Will he make Damon punish me? Or will he do it himself?
I want to sob as he takes a step forward, making me flinch and take a retreating step. Instead of coming for me, though, he steps around me and walks to the side of the crib.
I watch his every step. His every movement. I’m compelled to stare at him. I’m under a trance, and I can’t break gaze for a second.
My body shakes as he leans over the side of the crib and takes a baby into his arms. The movement is so mundane, so simple, so gentle—for someone who isn’t him, someone who has a heart and a soul unlike him. I immediately have the urge to grab the baby from him.
To protect the innocent little human from someone as evil and vile as Xander.
Courage pulses through my veins, and I take a step toward him. My intention is to stop him from hurting this baby. However, that thought leaves me when I witness something that can’t be true—even though I know it is because I am seeing it with my own two eyes.
Xander leans down slowly and ghosts his lips over the baby’s forehead. He’s possessive and caring, and he cradles the baby’s head as if he knows what the child needs and how to nurture him. They must have slipped something into my water, because there is no way in hell this can be reality.
“Why do you look so shocked?” he whispers, his voice silky and soft. It’s a strange contrast to his features—since his eyes and face always seem to scream murder and pain.
With trembling lips, I ask, “Is that...? Is that your child?” If this is his child, then what happened to the mother? Why isn’t she at dinner? Is she being held hostage somewhere in this mansion? A thousand thoughts circulate my mind.
When Xander takes a step toward me, I straighten my back, forcing myself to remain standing in place. I know he can sense my fear, taste it probably, but he doesn’t make it known. He just closes the distance between us, bringing the baby closer to me.
In the dim lighting of the room, I can only make out some of the baby’s features, but what I do see answers my question.
