Chapter 9
1386 Words
Aria
I blinked awake, hungry, tired, and puzzled by the unfamiliar ceiling above me.
"Morning, love," a dark, deep voice suddenly greeted from the side.
I sat up so fast my head spun, clutching the dark sheets to my chest.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I caught Dante sitting on a leather sofa across the room. He leaned back, his long legs stretched out in front of him, watching me with a look that was far too satisfied. He was wearing a sweatshirt and pants, plus his hair was slightly messy, giving me the impression he’d been running his fingers through it.
I'd hoped that the last twenty-four hours had just been some feverish nightmare brought on by overworking but seeing him brought everything back.
"You sleep well? You were out for a long time." He continued.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded. My voice was raspy, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded.
He tilted his head, a cocky, half-smirk playing on his lips. "Admiring the view. You’re much quieter when you’re asleep. A lot less threatening."
"I asked you a question," I snapped, my face heating up with panic. I remembered everything now. How his hands went over my face and I turned unconscious. I had no idea how long I’d been out or what he had done while I was asleep. "Why are you in my room? Can't you even give your guests privacy?"
Well, I wasn't really a guest, more like a prisoner but it didn't matter.
Dante stood up. He was even more intimidating in the morning light. He walked toward the bed slowly, his hands in his pockets.
"This isn't your room, Aria," he said coolly, stopping just a few feet away.
I frowned, looking around the massive space again. It was minimalistic, and the design was simple. It didn't look like anyone's room. "Then whose is it?"
"Mine."
I felt the blood drain from my face. I had spent the night in his bed, with his pillow, wrapping myself in his sheets. The mere thought made my skin crawl.
"You kept me in your room?" I snapped, my voice shaking, I wasn't sure if it was from rage or something else. "You had no right. There must be dozens of guest rooms in this place."
He placed one hand on the bedpost, leaning in close enough that I could see the golden flecks in his eyes.
"I don't like my things being far away from me," he said, his thumb grazing the edge of the sheet near my hand. "Besides, I wanted to make sure you didn't try to escape the moment you woke up. It’s much easier to keep an eye on you when you’re right next to me."
"I am not your 'thing'," I hissed, pulling the sheet tighter.
He laughed, a dark sound that made my stomach do a strange flip. "We’ll see about that, Dr. Vale."
He straightened up and pointed to a silver tray on the nightstand. There was a plate of eggs, some fruit, and a cup of black coffee.
"Eat," he commanded, his voice shifting back to that dominant tone. "There are clothes on the foot of the bed. Get ready, then come downstairs to the dining hall. We have a lot to talk about, and I’m not a patient man."
"We have nothing to talk about, I want to leave, that's it," I said, trying to find some shred of my dignity.
He didn't even argue and just walked toward the door, his hand on the handle. He paused, looking back at me with a playful, dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Don't be late. I'd hate to have to come back up here and dress you myself."
With that he walked out, the bolt clicking shut.
"Bastard." I screamed, tossing my pillow at the door in anger and humiliation. I had spent six years making sure no man could control me again and now I was right back where I started.
I turned to the breakfast tray. I didn't want to touch anything he had provided, but my stomach was cramping. I hadn't eaten in forever. I forced myself to eat the eggs and drink the coffee, hating how good it tasted. I needed my brain to work. I couldn't think if I was starving.
Once I was done, I looked at the clothes he had left. They were high-quality: a pair of dark, tailored trousers and a soft cashmere sweater in a deep forest green. There was even a pair of leather boots that looked like they were exactly my size.
He knew my sizes. He had clearly planned this.
I went into the bathroom and showered quickly, the hot water washing away some of the grit and frustrations off me. I then dressed in the clothes, hating how well they fit.
I pulled my short hair back into a tight, neat bun, trying to summon the "Viper" version of myself. I needed that mask. I couldn't let him see how rattled I was.
I was just finishing when the door opened.
Vesper walked in, not looking so happy to be there. She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at me with pure disdain.
"You done? Dante doesn't like to be kept waiting, and I don't like being your babysitter."
"I'm ready," I said, matching her cold tone.
She didn't like me. That much was obvious. She looked at the green sweater I was wearing and scowled, as if I was personally insulting her by breathing her air. She didn't say another word and turned, walking down the hall.
I followed her. The fortress was even more intimidating in the morning. Everything was made of cold stone and hard glasses. We passed several guards, all of whom stood at attention as we went by.
As we approached a set of large double doors, a child's voice shattered the silence.
"No! Get out! I won't eat it!"
I stopped. I knew that voice. It was Leo.
"Please, Young Master," a woman’s voice pleaded from inside. "Your father said you must finish the bowl. You need your strength."
"I don't care what he says! I want the lady! Where is the lady?"
There was a loud shatter, like a ceramic bowl hitting the wall.
Vesper stopped and rolled her eyes, her jaw tightening. "Again? Every single morning with this."
"He sounds like he's in pain, Vesper," I said, my medical instincts taking over.
"He’s a brat," Vesper snapped, turning to look at me. "He’s been spoiled since the day he was born, and now that he’s sick, he thinks he can tear the house down. Now, keep moving. Dante is waiting in the hall."
I didn't move. The screaming inside the room had turned into a frantic, hacking cough. It sounded like he was choking.
"Vesper, open the door."
"No. We have an appointment."
"Open the door," I repeated, stepping toward her. "Or I'll make enough noise to bring Dante up here myself."
Vesper looked like she wanted to kill me, but before she could answer, the door flew open and a nanny ran out, her face pale and hands shaking.
"He won't stop!" she cried, looking at Vesper. "He’s asking for the doctor! He says he won't take the medicine unless she gives it to him!"
I didn't wait for Vesper’s permission and pushed past the nanny, stepping into the room.
The room was as if a tornado passed through. Oatmeal was splattered across the wallpaper, broken porcelain littered the floor and water was splashed on the floor. Leo was sitting in the middle of a massive bed, looking tiny and frail. His face was flushed with fever, and his chest was heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.
The second he saw me, he went silent, no sign of the haggard coughing I'd heard
He just stared at me with those black, dull eyes.
I tried to step closer, but then I noticed the shadows in the room weren't staying still. They were rippling, moving toward the bed like dark ink in a pool of water, reacting to every ragged breath the boy took.
Leo pointed a trembling finger at the door. "Tell them to leave. We need to talk.”
- Writer
