Chapter 115: Locked From Outside

Chapter 115: Locked From Outside
The door was locked, and Valerie found out when she tried it about ten minutes after Max left, and the handle didn't turn, and she stood there for a second processing that before she knocked.
Then she knocked harder. Then used the flat of her palm against the wood, which was more satisfying in terms of noise, if not results.
"Open the door," she said. "I know someone's out there. Open it."
Valerie wasn’t stupid. She knew this wasn’t going to work. She was deep inside Max’s heavily secured compound, surrounded by armed men who answered only to him. No matter how loud she got, nothing she did from this side of the door was going to change a damn thing tonight.
Still, the anger had to go somewhere, so she kept pounding on the door with both fists anyway.
“Anyone out there?!” she shouted, slamming her palm against the wood again. “Hello? Can any of you assholes hear me?”
She went in cycles. She’d yell and hit the door for several minutes straight until her arms got tired; then she’d stop, lean her forehead against the wood, and try to catch her breath.
But every time the silence stretched too long, the anger would bubble right back up, and she’d start all over again.
“Open this damn door right now!” she yelled, her voice getting hoarser.
She banged harder, the sound echoing in the big room. “Who the hell has a guest room with the lock on the outside, huh? How many other women have you dragged back here and locked up? Am I just the latest one on your list?”
She kicked the bottom of the door for good measure. “You can’t treat me like one of your cartel toys, Max!”
She yelled until her throat felt raw and her hands throbbed from hitting the door so much. Eventually, the anger started to burn out, leaving her exhausted.
Her arms dropped to her sides, and she stepped back, breathing hard, sweat sticking to her skin.
With nothing left, she finally turned away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
Then she looked around the room.
If she was going to be in here, she might as well know what she was working with.
She went through the nightstand drawers—nothing useful, a phone charger that fit nothing she had, and a small notebook with blank pages. The desk had two drawers, both empty. The wardrobe she'd already been into once, but she opened it again and went through it more carefully this time.
There were clothes. More than she'd noticed before. All in her exact size. That part made her stomach turn. Someone had gone out and bought all this shit for her. Either before they even brought her here or while she was passed out on the jet.
She pushed the hanging clothes aside and found the nightwear at the back. On one side were plain cotton ones. On the other side were the fancy ones. Silk. Short.
She pulled out a red silk nightgown, stared at it for a few seconds, then looked up at the ceiling and thought about what kind of assumptions had gone into the purchasing of a red silk nightgown.
She shoved it back in and slammed the wardrobe door shut. Eventually, her body gave out in the middle of being angry, and she sat down on the floor beside the bed and then lay down.
The carpet felt about right for how shitty she felt, so she lay down and closed her eyes. She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but she did.
She woke up shouting.
Her eyes flew open, and she scrambled backward fast, her back slamming against the side of the bed.
A man was sitting in the chair across the room, half-hidden in the dark, just watching her.
“Jesus Christ!” she yelped, her heart hammering in her chest.
“You up for another round of shouting?” Max asked calmly.
Valerie pressed her hand hard against her chest, trying to catch her breath. She stared at him in disbelief.
“Are you a fucking psychopath?” she snapped. “Is this a thing you do? Sit in dark rooms watching people sleep like some creep?”
“I only watch you,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “That doesn't make me feel better, Max. That makes me feel so much worse. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Max just smirked.
Valerie pushed herself up off the floor, brushing off her clothes with annoyed jerks of her hands. “Why are you even in here? Don’t you have your own room in this giant fortress of yours?”
“My home, Val,” he answered simply.
“Oh, right. Of course. Your home, so that means you get to creep on your ‘guests’ whenever you feel like it. Not that I’m actually a guest,” she said. She shoved her hair back from her face. “What time is it anyway?”
“Just past midnight.”
Valerie finally looked at him properly and noticed the coffee table. She was sure it had been empty when she fell asleep. Now there were plates on it, covered dishes, a glass of water, and a small pot of tea.
She stared at the food, then back at him.
“What is all that?” she asked.
“You didn’t finish dinner,” Max said. “And you barely ate anything on the flight either.”
She stood there in the middle of the room, looking between the plates and him. He was sitting in the chair the same way he always did — relaxed, patient, watching her quietly.
“You brought me food,” she said, almost laughing in disbelief. “You actually brought me food.”
She shook her head slowly. There was something strangely sweet about it — this dangerous man noticing she hadn’t eaten and doing something about it. It didn’t make any sense with everything else he’d done.
“You kidnapped me,” she said. “You locked me in this room… and now you show up with a midnight snack like it’s nothing. That’s kind of sweet, Max. Twisted, but sweet.”
He leaned back a little in the chair, eyes still on her. “I only brought you dinner. Since you missed it.”
She let out a short breath, amused and frustrated. “You don’t get points for this, you know that? You can’t kidnap someone and then expect it to be okay because you brought them food.”
“I just want you to eat something,” he said simply.
Valerie stood there for a few more seconds, then sat down on the edge of the bed. She glanced over at the wardrobe, then back at him.
“I went through the clothes,” she said.
“Okay?”
“You bought me nightgowns. The sexy ones.”
Max didn’t say anything right away. He just looked at her, his gaze steady and a little heavier than before.
Valerie crossed her arms. “What exactly are you planning, Max? A whole room full of clothes feels like a pretty big assumption. Like you expect things to just settle between us.”
“It’s just clothes,” he replied.
“Is it?” She looked away for a second, then back at him. “I think you’re planning to sleep with me.”