“Come to me in pieces and exist inside me whole.”
—Christopher Poindexter
Iwipe a hand over the fogged up mirror and stare blankly at my reflection. A shiver runs through me as water pools on the tile below my feet. I let the steam soak into my pores and watch as droplets drip from my hair to my waist, sticking for a second before running along the curve of my hips, looping around my thigh.
I close my eyes and slowly chase the water with my fingertips.
Beneath the cold tingles on the surface of my skin, a layer of heat pulses through my veins. I still feel Adam Matthews on me. His strong hand pressed between my thighs, his firm grip on my hair and warm breath on my neck. But it’s more than that.
He’s everywhere.
Danger sings to me within the depths of his eyes like a long-lost friend. His shadow reaches beyond my skin and summons something deep inside me, something I’m not allowed to feel. Not allowed tobe.
I grip the edge of the counter as my eyelashes flutter open.
He gets into my head without even trying.
How did you do it, Frankie?Were you strong enough to keep these brothers skirting around the outside of your mind, where they belong? Were you pure enough?
Or did they find your secrets? Did they break you?
Don’t worry, silly,Frankie once told me on a quiet laugh.Only fragile things can be broken.
Releasing a shaky breath, I hope to God neither of us are made of glass and grab a towel from the door hook. It’s still early, and I have secrets to discover. After drying off, I tie the gold scarf around my neck and slip on an ebony silk nighty—the only functional nightwear provided—letting my damp hair hang down my back. Finding no shoes in my closet except four-inch heels, I pad barefoot toward the bedroom door.
Icy nerves claw at my chest, but I reach forward and turn the knob. Then I pause, pushing my shoulders back.
I’m going to get caught. With cameras in every corner, there’s no escaping that. For all I know, someone is watching me right now. I swallow back the urge to double-check my room for cameras and step into the hall, forcing my expression to be casual. Innocent.
There are no rules about leaving my room. And I’m the new girl, after all, which is my only hope that whoever catches me will listen to my made-up excuse and let this slide. In the meantime, I’ll just have to cover as much ground as possible.
No pressure.
I suppress the shudder trying to work down my spine when I slip by the first camera at the end of the hall. Making a right at the corner, I exit the ladies’ quarters.
Instead of a square, the mansion is a really long shoebox. An impeccable, shiny shoebox that keeps its lid secure and snug at all times. The ladies’ quarters—holding our bedrooms, dining room, and spa—is on the main floor of two, tucked away at the far right end. Hallways are everywhere, leading from one closed door to the next, until you reach the expanse of the lobby, which I just did.
My nerves squeeze when the clicking of heels echoes to my right. With a thick swallow, I remind myself that I’m an innocent newbie and continue padding across the white marble. There’s only one window. It’s large, eating up most of the front wall, but heavy curtains cover every corner of the glass.
I don’t miss it—the sunlight. The sky. I can’t ignore the surge of comfort that soothes me at the bleakness. Even so, I have to wonder why the Matthews work so hard to keep the curtains drawn and the lights dim.
Peeking through the curtain, I stare past the moonlit, manicured lawn and at the wall of shrubbery dividing this building from the front house. It’s quiet out, not even a breeze to stir the leaves. Seems odd to have two mansions so close together, especially with one hidden so carefully behind the other.
“Are you waiting for someone?”
I jump at the unfamiliar voice and release the curtain, whirling around. My gaze lands on two blondes in black dresses. I recognize one of them from when I was chained to the chandelier. The other woman I haven’t met yet, but both of their scarves are dark red.
Griff certainly keeps busy.
One of them quirks their brow, and I shake my head. “No. I was looking for Aubrey, actually.”
“She’s tied up at the moment.”
I find myself wondering if they’re speaking literally or figuratively, but decide not to ask. “Okay. I’ll just ...” I start to step around them, but they both frown, so I stop and point to the bandage on my left foot. “Needed a new bandage. It’s not a big deal. I can find one myself.”
The girl I’d never seen until now leans down for a closer look. “Is it a cut?”
“A burn.”
