“I know it must be hard to trust me at the minute. But you’ll come to learn that, I’m a man of my word. I’m also very protective of what’s mine.” Resting my elbows on my knees I leant forward, I wanted her to see the full extent of truth that’s reflected in my eyes. Eyes now locked, I continued. “You’re safe, you’re under my protection now.”
She still seemed unsure but I could see the extent of relief as the tension in her shoulders settled. I wanted to reassure her, but I didn’t know how without coming off too strong. One wrong move and the house of cards I’d been building would come crashing down around me.
“I’m at a loss of how to reassure you, without scaring you. I think you’ll get along well with my brothers though, most people do.”
“What do you expect from me?”
“At dinner tomorrow?” I asked to clarify. I was unsure of what exactly she was referring to.
“At dinner tomorrow, and in general. Am I to be a puppet that you pull out of the closet when you have guests? Am I expected to cook, to clean? I assume you wanted me for a reason, aside from the obvious - getting back at my father.”
And there we had it. She wanted to know if I was going to have her in my bed, force her to live as some perverted sex slave.
As I stood, I heard the shaky release of her breath. I stepped closer and kneeled down at her feet. I urged to reach out and touch her but I knew that would be pushing my luck. “You’re expected to live here. That’s it. There’s no hidden agenda. There are some rules, of course, but mostly you have free reign within these walls.”
“Where will I sleep?”
“Wherever you like. But the room you were in last night is yours, for the time being. By tomorrow morning Heather will have it fully stocked for you.”
She sat, bobbing her head silently. I waited for her to respond but I could see that her mood had done a complete one-eighty. I supposed that she’d been through a lot already, I didn’t want to keep her longer than need be. “Do you want me to show you back to your room?”
“Please.”
I led her up the stairs and back to the guest room. Anastasia opened her door and stepped inside. Before closing the door completely and bidding her goodbye, I pointed to my door.
“That’s my room, if you need anything just let me know. I’m going out but I’ll be back in a few hours. Also, in case you feel like attempting an escape, the property is covered by cameras and there’s security at every entrance. I’ve left the key to your door on your nightstand.”
She closed the door, not wasting any more time with pleasantries. Words sat on the tip of my tongue - an apology, comfort, anything to help break that ice wall she kept up all the time. But then I thought better of it. She’d probably heard enough from me right now. I couldn’t help thinking if the situations were reversed, I don’t know if I’d have been able to handle all of this as well as she had. My response would have been ‘fuck you’ at every turn.
My shoulders sagged as I released my breath. I knew I had to be gentle, I knew I had to give it time but I didn’t want to. Truth be told, I really couldn’t be fucking bothered with any of this. I hated that my brother was right.
I wasn’t used to being patient, having to wait for what I wanted. I didn’t know how long this new attempted patience was going to last, so she better hurry her ass into gear.
My stomach weighed me down the whole day. After having the best night's sleep I’d had in a long while, I awoke feeling refreshed and well-rested.
I was in the shower by the time the conversation I had with Nikolai last night reared its ugly head. His brothers were coming round for dinner. Despite him trying to reassure me about my safety, I was still on edge. And pissed. I felt like a toy being pulled out of the attic and put on display.
I stayed in the room to avoid any further contact with him. I didn’t think I could deal with any more just yet.
As Nikolai had promised, the next day, the maid brought me bags full of clothing. All brand-new with their tags still attached. As I looked through the bags, I had certain expectations about what an older lady would have chosen for someone like me. I assumed she would have been the one to pick out all of the clothes but, to my surprise, everything was in my style. Had Nikolai picked these out? Surely not. He must have better things to do with his time.
Heather knocked on the door several times, handing me a tray with breakfast on it, and then another laden with lunch. We’d exchanged the necessary greetings but nothing that ventured beyond niceties. She didn’t seem the particularly chatty type, and besides, I was beginning to feel bad for holding her up from her regular job.
Heather came knocking again later in the afternoon, by that time I’d stared out the window as much as sanely possible. I checked the clock before speaking. It was near to four in the afternoon and I’d decided that I couldn’t take anymore. “Heather, where is Nikolai?”
“Mr King is out, most likely at work. Before he left he instructed me to help get you ready for dinner.”
He did, did he? Well, there’d be a surprise waiting for him when he got home. “Do you know when he’s due back?”
I was still silently fuming that he’d had the gall to go out at all, to just continue on with his daily routine as if all of this was normal. Me? I hadn’t had a choice. I was ripped from my life, my job, my apartment - it hadn’t been much but it was still mine - and then dumped into this unknown ecosystem. The least he could’ve done was stick around. Or maybe...was this my perfect opportunity to pull an escape job?
Of course, this was all I’d sat and thought about all day. Staring out the window wanting to jump. If it was just me I could’ve risked it all but it was harder than that. Jumping… I didn’t know if I’d make the fall unscathed. I probably would have survived. But would I have broken an ankle? Would I still have been able to run? And my mind just wouldn’t let me forget about that pesky little threat against my aunt.
I felt like I was standing on an open ledge, and I was ready to jump but, utterly invisible to the naked eye, my body was bound in rope - restrained from any movement. I hated this. I may have been cordial yesterday, and I have been kind to the maid, but my hatred, my anger, created a steely calmness in me that I had to turn to every now and again to stop blowing my top completely.
“He should be back shortly,” she said in dismissal and left with the empty food tray in her hands. I quickly decided that I actually hated her. Did she not see what was happening here? Of course, she did! And her serenity about it all had truly started to piss me off.
I let out a half scream, half groan, as I flung myself back onto the bed in anger.
