Chapter 23 Closeted Romance
❦ Rosalind ❦
Viktor did not return to tie me back up.
I was both grateful and miffed. Had he forgotten about me? Or was he still planning convenient methods of dealing with the problem that was… me?
Enza had wordlessly brought me breakfast and lunch. Dinner was running a bit late, but I had no choice but to wait until she came. She maintained a scowl that looked like she would have preferred me tied up. Only, how then would I eat? Rosa 1:0 Enza.
I’d paced the room until my feet burned, trying to see the situation from all angles.
The shooter at Tribeca had gone out of their way to avoid hitting me, which meant the target was, in fact, Viktor. Why would an enemy of Viktor’s bother sparing me a barrage of bullets? I realized that Viktor was alive because of me. If they hadn’t cared to avoid hitting me, they would have just shot through me to get to him. I shivered.
I heard footsteps outside.
“Viktor?” I pounded on the door. “You can’t keep me here forever! Let me out!”
The feet stopped right behind it. The two slim shadows blocking the light underneath the door proved it.
“I know you’re there. Let me out and we can talk about this. I need to speak to Marcus. He needs to know I’m safe.”
“You’re not safe.”
It wasn’t Viktor.
The voice sounded colder. A different sort of icyness to it. Viktor sounded cold with the promise of an eruption. This one iced over my breath instantly. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I recognized it.
“Adrian.”
“Heiress.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we get it. I’m an heiress, but isn’t the name a little old now?”
“You sound really cheery for someone so close to death, but ignorance is bliss, I guess.”
I swallowed, his words bringing a chill over the room. “He won’t kill me. It’ll cause a war. He’s smart enough to know not to risk it, now that enemies are running amok.”
He stayed silent.
“And you hate that, don’t you?”
Boredom prodded me further. I didn’t want the conversation to end even though my audience wished me death.
“He will kill you if you don’t give him what he wants. You’re lucky he’s not even exerting his right to own you once and for all.” He tsked.
“He hasn’t because he can’t. The only person who could have forced me is dead.” I pressed against the door. “He’s at a stalemate, you know. I hold the power here.”
“You suspect he killed your father, yet you let him live. Yet you got yourself taken captive. You have no power. You’re just a spoiled American acting tough.”
“You’re the American, though.” I purred. “You dye your hair black and speak with an Italian accent, but your features betray you. What are you hiding from, Adrian?”
“Things you wouldn’t survive,” he sneered.
“Well then, I’m glad it’s you, not me.”
The doorknob turned.
My palm flew to it. I held it steady as he tried to open it, my heart slamming against my ribs.
“Don’t you want the door open? You asked to be let out, didn’t you?!”
“Not while you’re out there! You’re crazy! Let go.”
“Are you scared?”
“No.”
“Then let go.”
“Never. You’ll kill me.”
“Now why would I do that?”
I smirked. “Cause I called out your role-playing?”
He chuckled. The sound low and dark.
“How you survive with that smart mouth amazes me.”
“Yeah. Haven’t you heard? Even bullets are scared of me.”
The doorknob relaxed, and I snapped the lock shut once one of my hands was free.
I stood, waiting, but he said nothing. He was still there, I could see the shadows from his feet. Then, without a word, he walked away.
“Good talk!” I muttered loud enough for him to hear. He did not respond.
“Psycho.” I exhaled. That was a near-death experience I didn’t want to relive.
Then I realized something. He hadn’t locked the door from the outside.
My vision swam, my knees almost buckling with how close I was to freedom. I could just leave. Sneak out and hotwire a car, if I was lucky, no one would be by the garage, and I’d drive to the safety of my home and soldatos. To the safety of Claudia’s homemade pizzas.
I waited for more minutes, listening for footsteps. When I was sure it was clear outside, I slipped out. I looked left and right. The hallway was empty.
Then I patted down the shirt to cover my legs. I can’t escape wearing just a T-shirt, I needed pants. The only other room I knew in this strange, gloomy house was Viktor’s. And if he had forgotten to return and tie me up, and his underboss Adrian was jobless enough to come and threaten me, then he must not be around.
There was no time to waste. I had no idea where he went or when he would return, so I immediately turned toward his bedroom.
Peering around corners and listening for movement, I crept further and further until I reached his room. I turned the knob and pushed. It was open. I slipped inside without checking.
Once inside, I looked around and confirmed it was empty. I glanced at the chair he’d sat on while I took out the bullets and humped him. A coat was strewn over the back as if in a hurry.
I walked toward the bed, staring at the black silk sheets that were rumpled. Either Enza was slacking on her duties or he liked unmade beds.
But it looked so rough, as if there had been a tussle on it. My cheeks flamed up as I realized he might have had sex on this bed while I was locked up like an animal.
With a sneer toward the bed as if it offended me, I walked toward his closet.
Imagine if I’d gone right along with the contract and married him, he would have been cheating on me. Taking models and whoever he had been with to my penthouse suite at the Grand Marlow.
The thought hardened my heart toward never letting him anywhere near it. In fact, I would just ban him from entry.
The plan made me smile. He would only watch from the outside, never to step inside again. It would pissed him off so bad.
I opened the closet and went through it. All the pants looked impossibly long, and I settled on a black pair of joggers. I’d have to fold them up so I didn’t trip.
I hurriedly pushed one leg into it, then I remembered I wasn’t wearing any panties. Cursing to myself, I ruffled further into the closet, bending at the waist.
I pulled out one boxer brief. It had a scent. I resisted the urge to sniff it. Thinking fast, I stuffed it into the pocket of the joggers. Don’t you dare judge me.
“Come on, come on, there has to be at least one brand-new pack of briefs in here,” I muttered.
I caught sight of a pack in the back.
“Aha!”
I grabbed it and backed out of the closet.
I hit a wall.
A thick wall of heat and muscle.
My heart rate slowed. My breath caught. My fingers gripped the pack of boxers in terror.
His whisper caressed my ear.
“Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing in my room?”
Oh shit.