The water pressure is weak but the temperature is good, and I position my face under the spray with a shuddering exhale that releases some of the tension I've been carrying in my shoulders. The heat seeps into my muscles, loosening the knots, and I close my eyes and let myself pretend for a moment that I'm home in my own bathroom with nothing to worry about except what to make for dinner.
But like all good things in life, it doesn't last nearly long enough. I've barely settled myself when the water starts to go cool. It's just another thing to pile onto my growing list of complaints, which I have every intention of bringing up the next time one of those assholes opens that door.
I shut it off, reaching for the towel hanging on the rack beside the shower to wrap around myself. Then I squeeze the water from my hair, but I pause at the sound of movement in the otherroom. Someone is moving in there. I hear the clink of the spoon on the bowl and the footsteps. I strain to decide if the gait is male or female, but without having heard the sounds in this house multiple times, I have nothing to gauge it on. I decide to keep myself from freaking out.
It has to be Rosa back with the clean clothes.
I push open the bathroom door and step out, still dripping, and freeze when I see who's standing beside the bed.
It's not Rosa.
It's the man who took me, and it makes me shudder as I clutch the towel around my body.
He turns at the sound of my footsteps, and his dark eyes drop to take in the towel wrapped around my body, the water still beading on my bare shoulders. When his eyes meet mine, something shifts in his expression that makes my stomach clench. He looks at me like I'm a piece of raw meat he's deciding where to sink his teeth into.
"I brought you clothes," he says, but there's nothing gentle about his voice like Rosa's. This man sounds feral and beastly, and his eyes rake over me a second time as his pupils widen in lust. It makes a knot form in my chest.
All I can do is stand there dripping on the hardwood floor with my heart pounding so hard, I can feel it in my throat. He picks up a stack of clothes from the foot of the bed and holds it out toward me, and I have no choice but to step forward and take it from his hands. Our fingers brush as I grab the fabric and I flinch away, clutching the clothes against my chest alongside the towel that's the only thing between his eyes and my naked body.
"Whether you like it or not," he says, his dark eyes holding mine, "you're going to work for me for a while. You're going to play a very important role. You're going to become Ana Veche."
"I don't know who that is."
"You will." He tilts his head, studying my face carefully. "You'll learn everything you need to know about her. How she walks. How she talks. How she holds herself. And when I'm done with you, no one will be able to tell the difference."
"Who are you?" I manage, but I have to clear my throat to get the words out.
"I'm Lev." He backs away, giving me some breathing room, but his eyes don't stop devouring me. Normally, if a man looked at me like this, I'd be turned on, but I'm too scared to stop and notice that he's devilishly handsome.
My throat feels tight and the words stick as I try to force them out. "Will I ever get to go home?"
He looks at me for a long moment as he clenches his teeth and grinds them, and then he says, "If you play your part well, I may let you go free."
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? My conscience is screaming internally, but I don’t want to be tied up again. I keep my mouth shut and whimper instead.
"Get dressed," he says. "Try to rest. We start training tomorrow."
He turns and walks out of the room without another word. The door closes behind him, followed by the now-familiar sound of the lock sliding into place. I stand there clutching the clothes against my chest.
The minute he's gone, I feel relief. It's like just being in his presence causes my body to immediately go into fight or flight. He didn't lay a hand on me or threaten me at all. If anything, that interchange felt civil, but I'm still locked up here and I'm still scared shitless.
I drop the clothes onto the bed and then drop the towel and start sorting through the expensive material. It appears whoever Ana Veche is, she has expensive tastes.
The night shirt is made of one hundred percent silk and has matching bottoms. It's like he even had them tailored to me too. When I slip them on, I feel like I’ve dived into a sea of comfort. The fabric glides over my skin.
When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. I've never even seen something so expensive in my life. What the hell is going on, and why does he want me to play the part of this mysterious woman? Why not just go find her and have her be herself?
There's no way I'm actually going to sleep tonight after everything that's happened, but I climb into bed and pull the covers over my body anyway. It's cold and I'm shivering and ready to calm myself fully and try to think of a way out of this.
I have to remind myself that I'm safe and they haven't harmed me.
I will get out of this and I will go home, and when I do, I might just move somewhere far, far away from here.
5
LEV
The instant the lock clicks into place, I pull my hand away from the knob like it's burning me. Vivika is so fucking hot, and I almost lost control of myself looking at her in nothing but that towel with water dotting her chest and arms. She looked at me like I was a predator and she was the prey, and she wasn't wrong.
