I walk closer, inspecting the changes. That’s odd. The upstairs wasn’t touched by the fire, so why would anyone redecorate my room?
The soft click of the door closing behind me jolts me. I whip around, and my breath catches at the sight before me. Tony is standing there, calm and collected, still dressed in the same suit from earlier.
Disbelief roots me in place. My wide eyes lock onto him, my chest tight with unspoken questions. His eyes scan me slowly—calm, controlled, and cold—and I swear I feel more exposed than if I were naked.
I blink hard, then again, hoping this is some illusion. But no, he’s still there.
“You’re not dreaming,” he says softly. “I’m really here.”
Yes, it’s his voice. The scent filling my lungs and settling in my veins, it’s unmistakably his. But how? How did he get past the guards at the front door? How did he even enter the house without me noticing?
As soon as he steps toward me, I stumble back. The bedframe catches against the back of my legs, halting any further retreat. He stops a few feet away, chin raised, shoulders squared, radiating the kind of confidence of a man who owns the place.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I ask with a voice I desperately try to steady.
His hands hang rigidly at his sides. His hair is neatly combed back, and his chiseled jaw is clean-shaven.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Fear grips me, but I force myself to maintain a facade of composure. “We can’t be alone here. It’s inappropriate. If you have something to discuss, it should be in my husband’s presence.”
At the mention of the word “husband,” his entire body stiffens, and a glacial chill hardens his gaze. One hand disappears into the pocket of his pants, while the other hooks onto the edge of his jacket.
“So, I should talk to your husband about the night I violated his beautiful bride?” he replies, his voice a lethal calm.
My heart stops. My throat turns bone-dry. No matter how hard I breathe, my lungs won’t fill. The terror is evident on my face, and he doesn’t miss it. A smirk stretches across his lips.
“I see I’ve caught you off guard. Did you really think I didn’t know your secret? Or should I sayoursecret?”
I swallow hard, tearing my gaze away from him. Without a second thought, I dart past him and head straight for the door. I need to get out of this cursed room. My fingers wrap around the handle, twisting it desperately, but it doesn’t budge. Locked. And the key…
I spin on my heel, glaring at him. Damn it. The key is in his hand. He holds it up with a smug look before slipping it into his jacket pocket, taunting me with his control.
As I go over my options, I realize I have nothing to fight with, nothing but a threat. I know it probably won’t work, but I have no choice but to try. “I don’t know why you’re here, but you should know my grandmother is downstairs. And there are guards right outside on the street. One scream from me, and they’ll all come rushing in.”
He laughs, a loud, bitter laugh that’s far from amused. Once it subsides, he paces the room, slow and purposeful, his voice calm yet dripping with menace.
“You won’t do that, Princess.” He stops by the desk, fixing me with his piercing gaze as he delivers the reason. “If you stayed silent about the night I ruined you, if you’ve kept that secret locked up all this time, the chances are slim that you’d make a scene now while I’m standing here fully dressed and just having a conversation.”
I can almost hear the wall I spent a year building around myself crack. He remembers everything. His smirk stretches wider as his gaze drifts over the room.
“But since I’m not the kind of man who leaves things to chance,” he adds, “I made sure that even if you tried something stupid, no one would hear you.”
I can no longer mask my fear; it slips into my voice. “What do you mean?”
He meets my eyes again. His voice, face, and posture are all ice-cold. “I mean, I set your grandmother’s apartment on fire and ensured my men, the ones I trust, handled the repairs. I made certain that even if a car crashed through this room, no one outside would hear a thing.”
He pauses briefly to see the influence of his words on my face. “Oh, and I did one other little thing. I built myself a hidden passage into this room.”
As my stomach twists so hard I think I’d throw up, he goes on with a trace of amusement, “That one was a bit tricky. The owners of the apartment next door weren’t willing to sell, so we had to persuade them, without letting Carlo’s dogs sniff us out and catch on.”
He stops and chuckles. “Although, I don’t think your delicate nature can handle the details.”
Oh my God. He’s killed them. I’m sure of it.
The chuckle vanishes the moment he finishes his sentence. This time, he strides toward me with purpose, his tone commanding. “Enough of this nonsense. Take off your clothes.”
My hand flies to my chest as he closes the distance. I scramble to the other side of the room, desperate to get away. But it’s no use. Just like that damned night, he grabs me from behind and lifts me effortlessly off the ground.
