Chapter 8
1294 Words
Aria
The walk to the Guest Suite was long and quiet.
Vesper didn’t say a word, and the guards behind me were just as silent. Their grip on my arms was like iron, a constant reminder that I wasn't going anywhere. I didn't bother fighting them. I was a surgeon and I knew a losing battle when I saw one. They clearly had wolves and I had none, it was hopeless. Plus, I wasn't about to risk a dislocated shoulder when I might need my hands to escape later.
They led me to a set of heavy wooden doors at the end of the East Wing. Vesper pushed them open, and the guards practically shoved me inside.
I stumbled, my heels catching on the thick carpet. By the time I regained my balance and spun around, the doors were already clicking shut. I heard a manual bolt sliding into place on the other side.
Locked in.
I stood there for a long minute, just breathing. The room was huge, probably larger than my entire clinic in Manhattan. It had a king-sized bed with dark sheets, a marble fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the ocean. In any other life, it would have been a dream. Right now, it was just a very expensive cage.
I walked over to the windows and tried the latch. Locked. I peered out. The drop was at least fifty feet down to jagged black rocks and a churning grey sea. Even if I could break the glass, I wouldn’t survive the fall.
"Bastards," I screamed, slamming my hand against the glass. "Just why, why why?"
I felt a lump form in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since the night I was eighteen and I wouldn't start now.
I walked into the massive bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, scrubbing at my skin until it burned. I looked at myself in the mirror.
My platinum hair was a mess. My makeup was perfect, but my eyes looked tired. Just a little kidnapping and I instantly looked like I had lost everything, even though I had millions in the bank.
What was the point of all that money then? I had spent six years building a fortress in New York. I had worked until my fingers bled to become something. I thought if I was rich and powerful enough, no one could ever touch me again. I thought I was safe in my glass tower.
But I wasn't.
All it took was one man with enough muscle and a lack of a conscience to prove that my money meant nothing. I was right back where I started. In a cage I couldn't leave and at the mercy of a man who didn't care about me.
The unfairness of it burned in my throat. I had done everything right. I had survived the Dead Lands. I had buried my heart. I had made myself into a weapon. So why.
And that boy.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of the small, pale face. My brain, the same one that had gotten me through med school, already had a list of reasons why he wasn't mine.
He was the wrong age. He had the wrong eyes. The world was full of sick children, and I was a doctor; I saw them every day. The fact that he had called me 'Mama' was just fake. Kids in pain reached for a mother-figure. It was a coincidence.
It had to be a coincidence. Because the alternative, that my son was dying and I could do nothing about it, was a thought so violent it felt like it would tear me apart.
I walked back into the bedroom, looking for something, anything, I could use as a weapon. At that moment, the bolt on the door suddenly slid back.
I spun around, my hands curling into fists as the door swung open. Dante walked in, looking like he owned the very air I was breathing. He’d taken off his gear and was now in a charcoal-colored dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattooed forearms.
"You still have five seconds to release me from here, otherwise I swear I'll tell the police," I shouted, moving toward him.
He didn't even flinch and just leaned against the doorframe, watching me with those heavy, golden eyes. "You seem to be settling in well, Dr. Vale. I trust the view is to your liking?"
"The view is a sheer cliff, you psychopath!" I snapped, stopping inches from him. "You kidnapped me! You forced me to stay here! Do you have any idea who I am? The people I treat... the people I know... they will tear this island apart looking for me."
He let out a dry chuckle, walking toward me. His presence filled the room. I didn't want to back away, but I had to. He was too big, too much.
"I know exactly who you are, Aria, and I know that right now, the only person who cares that you're missing is the one standing in front of you. So be a good girl and stop making a fuss."
"Shut up and stay away from you, you bastard!!" I hissed, taking a step back.
And then again.
Before I knew it, my back hit the cold marble wall.
I looked up at him, my breath hitching. "You want a doctor? Fine. You have one. But if you think this 'hostage situation' means you can come close to me or even think of doing anything, you’re going to find out exactly how many ways I can paralyze a man with a single needle. I know where every nerve in your body is, Dante and I can make it so you never walk again before you even realize I've moved."
He didn't stop, if anything he stepped closer, caging me against the wall with his body. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Is that a threat, love?"
"It’s a promise," I said, my breath shaky from his mere closeness. "And don't call me love."
A cocky, dangerous smile touched his lips. He looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my mouth for a second too long.
"I’ve always liked a woman with teeth, kinda turns me on." he finally said and my head snapped up.
What the actual f**k? I thought I was here for his son, but it was starting to seem he had other plans.
He reached out, his hand moving slowly. I expected him to grab my throat or wrists, but instead, he just used two fingers to tip my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
His skin felt like fire against mine.
"You're exhausted, Aria. You've been fighting for six years. Don't you want to just...stop? Let someone else take care of it."
He passed his other hand over my face, his thumb brushing against my temple.
The moment his skin touched mine, a strange wave of grogginess hit me. It wasn't like a drug; it was more like a heavy, warm blanket being pulled over my brain. My knees went weak and the room started to spin.
"What..." I slurred, my eyelids feeling like they were steel. "What did you...do?"
"Sleep, love."
I tried to raise my hand to shove him away, to find that nerve I'd been talking about, but my arm felt like it was made of stone. My head slumped against his chest, the scent of him filling my nose as the darkness rushed in to meet me.
The last thing I felt was his arms catching me before I hit the floor.
- Writer
