Chapter 13
1017 Words
She had truly believed she’d never have to see that collar again but she’d been wrong.
Benedetto stepped closer and, without pause, fastened the collar around her neck. Her fingers clenched into fists, the urge to tear it off burning through her, but she forced herself to stay still.
He reached for the leash next, letting it dangle in his grasp rather than yanking it. “Come on,” he said, motioning for her to follow.
Silently, she trailed behind him as he led the way through the familiar wing the one that held her room. Her heart pounded harder when they passed by her door without stopping. Instead, they ascended a narrow flight of stairs, stopping at a massive mahogany door at the top.
It radiated darkness.
A sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. She inhaled deeply in an attempt to steady her pulse, but it only sped up. She hadn’t felt this anxious since the day of her betrayal. The dread coiling inside her was impossible to ignore.
There was no pretending she was terrified.
Benedetto exhaled, then opened the door without knocking. Her eyes widened at the boldness, shocked he’d show such disrespect. She almost stopped him, but he spoke first. “He’s not in at the moment,” Benedetto said calmly, stepping into the room.
She hesitated in the doorway.
He looked back over his shoulder, then turned fully to face her. “Get in.”
Her legs felt like stone, but she forced herself to move forward into the room a place that might just become her tomb.
Benedetto dropped the leash. It landed at her feet with a soft thud.
Azzurra’s gaze darted around the room, which was drenched in sleek shades of black and grey. It was lavish beyond anything she’d seen before. Almost surreal. The fur rug beneath her bare feet was plush and warm, a stark contrast to the cold fear gripping her chest.
In the center of the room stood a massive king-sized bed, far too large for someone of her stature but perfectly suited for the First Prince. She remembered how tall he was. There was a walk-in closet to the left, and another door that likely led to an ensuite bathroom. Long curtains veiled a wall of glass, but through a slit in the fabric, she glimpsed shimmering blue water. A private pool. On the terrace.
“You’ll wait here for him. He might be angry when he sees you,” Benedetto said, his voice level. “But just tell him the King ordered you to stay here for two days, and that I left you.”
Panic surged through her. She stepped forward, blocking his path. “Wait don’t leave. Stay until he comes back. The King told you to explain the arrangement, not me. Why are you handing me this responsibility? You know it’s dangerous.”
Her voice trembled, but he only shrugged.
“Don’t worry. He doesn’t hurt humans much. You’ll be fine,” he said casually, and she scowled at him.
How could he be so indifferent? This wasn’t a minor misunderstanding it could cost her life. “Don’t go. Not yet. Wait until he’s here.”
For a flicker of a second, she saw it fear in Benedetto’s eyes. He masked it quickly, but she caught it. Living in fear had made her attuned to even the slightest shifts in people’s expressions. Her stomach turned to ice.
Benedetto was close to the King. He was probably the chief in this place. And even he feared the First Prince.
The realization made her pulse spike.
“I have things to do. You’ll be fine,” he said, already moving toward the door.
She rushed after him. “You’re just saving your ass”
The door slammed shut in her face.
The sound jarred her, and she stumbled back, staring at the closed door with narrowed eyes. She shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. It slipped out, born of pure panic.
Turning around, she surveyed the room again. She could go back to her room she knew the way. But running would be foolish. The First Prince might view it as an insult or a challenge. Given what she'd heard of his cruelty, that wasn’t a risk she could afford to take.
Walking further inside, she stood awkwardly in the center of the luxurious room, trying to distract herself by admiring the space.
The carpet alone was so divine she could’ve ditched her thin mattress and slept on it.
Then she glanced down and froze.
Dirt. Her footprints stained the pale fabric.
Eyes wide, she dropped to her knees. She turned, checking the soles of her feet, cursing silently. It wasn’t entirely her fault Benedetto had given her toiletries and clothes, but no shoes.
Crawling toward the ensuite bathroom, pain shot through her hands with every shift of weight. Still, she made it inside. Her breath caught.
The bathroom was the size of her entire room, if not larger. An elegant, freestanding bathtub sat beneath a modern chandelier. Everything gleamed.
She washed her feet quickly, drying them on the rug, then grabbed a handful of tissues and rushed back out.
Kneeling again, she scrubbed the carpet with frantic precision until the dirt disappeared. Once satisfied, she darted back to the bathroom, tossed the tissues in the bin, and leaned over the sink, hands clutching the basin as she exhaled shakily.
Why was she so jittery? Why did it feel like her execution was moments away?
She prayed he wouldn’t return soon.
Straightening, she scanned the shelves lined with all sorts of products. She picked up a bottle of shampoo, sniffed it. Fruity pleasant. The child within her stirred at the simple, silly distraction, and she allowed herself to examine each product, wandering deeper into the bathroom.
She found herself inside the shower stall, studying the mounted soap dispenser.
Something fell behind her.
She gasped and flinched, letting out a startled cry as her elbow knocked into something and cold water burst from the shower above, drenching her on contact.
- Writer
