It’s him. Matteo.
I haven’t seen him since we last spoke, and I wonder whether he wanted to give me some time to myself or was too mad to speak to me.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and say, “Come in,” as I put the brush down on the boudoir beside the mirror.
The door swings open, and he steps inside, clearing his throat. I glance up at him through the mirror, and our eyes connect in a shared moment of silence while the door closes behind him.
Has he come to scold me for my escape?
I keep a watchful eye on him, unsure of his intentions as he walks closer to me. He stops before he’s in reach.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Considering the circumstances? Good,” I reply, and I throw a look at the window in my bathroom, which is now barred off completely.
It didn’t take long for him to figure out how I escaped.
He keeps his gaze settled on mine through the mirror. “I seem to have underestimated your ability to crawl throughnarrow gaps. I’m impressed.”
“That’s not the only thing you underestimated,” I quip.
He tilts his head. “True.”
“That’s a mistake I won’t allow you to make a second time,” I add.
A filthy grin forms on his face. “Good. Keeps me on edge.”
“Have you come to gloat in your victory, seeing me back in my place here?”
His brows flinch downward. “It’s only temporary.”
“Right. Just like keeping me a prisoner in this house is.” I look right back at him.
“One escape was enough,” he says.
“So you barred off my only way out of this house like a prison guard would? Fantastic.”
He steps closer. “To keep you safe, Tesoro. I don’t want you running off again without me noticing and having you end up in the wrong hands.” Suddenly, he places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re far too precious for that.”
I suck in a breath and let his words sink in. “Are you angry with me for escaping?”
His incessant gaze is hard to look away from, almost as if his eyes alone hold power over me. “I’m not mad at you, Tesoro. I wanted to be, trust me. But it’s my fault that I chased you away, and that I had to kill those men to get you back.” He pauses. “I apologize for blaming you.”
When he said those words, I couldn’t stay in his house a minute longer. Even when I tried so hard not to cause anymore deaths, their blood is still on my hands.
But I am grateful he said he was sorry.
Suddenly, he tips up my chin and makes me look at him through the mirror.
“Don’t avert your eyes from your own beauty. You are not to blame for their deaths. Do you hear me?”
I nod.
“Good girl.”
A shiver runs up my spine and down again.
Good girl …
