âThere are five wings in the estate. And each has their own lock.â I glance down at Aria, listening to her bare feet pad on the marble tile as we enter the foyer. The double-doored entrance is only feet away and I know sheâs resisting the urge to look at it.
âThere are locks everywhere, inside and out.â She chances a peek at me and stills when she meets my gaze. âI often invite those who I donât consider friends here and sometimes I donât want them to leave.â
Sheâs silent as she considers what Iâve said. Nervousness trickles down her body. Itâs in the way she swallows, the way she holds her hands in front of her. The way she almost trips over her own feet. And I love her nervousness.
âThe front door, for instance.â I motion toward it and she turns stiffly as if she wasnât dying to look at it. âThat box there, to the right of it. You need a code to open it, from either inside or out.â
âI thought you said it was one or the other.â Her soft voice is questioning. Her hazel eyes peer up at me as if Iâve wronged her. As if Iâve hurt her. âYou said a bird can be tethered or caged, not both.â
A smile tickles my lips as I reply, âHavenât you learned that all you need to do is ask?â
Her lips turn down into a frown, but she stays quiet. She knows sheâs caged. Wherever she goes, she will go with me, caged and protected just the same.
âIâm a prisoner,â she says as her voice cracks, and she looks longingly at the front doors. The architecture foreboding in a way that seems to forbid a guest from leaving.
âYou were before in your fatherâs home.â My voice is deep and echoes in the foyer. Her eyes reach up to mine in shock as I continue, âAfraid to leave. Afraid to do anything without permission.â
âI wasnât afraid,â she whispers, and I know sheâs well aware of the lie sheâs spoken.
âYou let fear rule you. Donât lie to me.â Unease trickles through me. The realization of what she truly fears could change everything.
âHow do you know what I did and didnât do?â she asks weakly, denying the truth and deflecting her attention to something else.
Since she lied to me, I present a lie to her in return. âWhen you were offered to me, I did my research. I have friends in your fatherâs army of men. Eyes and ears who offer information for a certain price. I know you spent almost all of your time alone in your room. Maybe thatâs why it took so long for you to obey me. Youâre used to cells.â
Her mouth parts, no doubt with a rebuttal, but wisely she slams it shut before a word is spoken.
Time passes as we move on. Both of us quiet. Both of us in our own world of denial.
âYour things can be moved to my office, den, or the bedroom. The drawing pad and whatever else you want,â I offer her but still, sheâs quiet. Her fingers fidget with one another throughout the tour of the two wings sheâs allowed to enter. She doesnât seem to look at anything or notice anything at all unless we pass a window, which, as I pointed out, have locks on them as well.
âWhy are there five wings?â she asks me as I lead her to the grand kitchen. She still hasnât eaten and she needs to. Thereâs no reason for her not to and the threat of sending her back to the cell if she doesnât, is so close to being spoken to life. Iâd rather save it for something else, something more meaningful. But my little bird needs to eat.
âI had four brothers and decided they should each have their own wing,â I tell her and step into the kitchen. The garden is just beyond the back wall, lined with black glass from floor to ceiling. The floors are a dark walnut and polished so smoothly I can see our reflection in them.
Her eyes move across the sleek, modern kitchen, from the high-end cabinets to the white granite countertops. Everything is done in white. Itâs clean and modern and balances the black glass perfectly.
I anticipate her saying many things, but not the next words that spill from her lips.
âIâm sorry.â
My forehead pinches with a deep crease. âFor what?â I question.
âYou said you had four brothers. I take it that one or more have passed?â She turns to face me and her hip brushes one of the stools to the island. I can tell sheâs not sure if she should sit or not, and I leave her wondering. Just like I leave the pangs of regret and sadness to settle in my gut. Instead, I focus on how discerning Aria is. Sheâs a deadly combination of beautiful and perceptive. I need to remember that.
âCarter,â Jase calls out from behind me and when I turn his steps slow. His eyes drift from where I am, almost blocking Aria from view, and then to her.
âI didnât realize you were busy,â he says to me although his eyes travel down Ariaâs body. Even with her robe tied tightly with the sash and covering her décolletage, she looks like she was made to tempt.
âWhat is it?â I ask him and again he looks at her. From my periphery, I watch her glance at the floor and those fingers of hers continue making tight knots around one another.
Gripping the back of her neck, just slightly, she stops her fidgeting.
They both want to know what she is to me. I can see it written on their faces as much as I can feel the tension in the air.
It doesnât matter what she is, so long as they all know sheâs mine.
Even more, I know Jase is questioning the way I hold her at this moment and why sheâs out of the cell. Maybe heâs wondering how long Iâll keep her out here. Or how long Iâll keep her period.
I make soothing strokes with my thumb along the back of her neck as Jase tells me something about a car. I donât know what the fuck heâs talking about. I donât give a damn either. I assume itâs some update about the supply, but he doesnât want to speak openly in front of Aria.
My little songbird relaxes under my touch, peeking up at me every so often. I know sheâs wondering what he thinks of her.
âAria,â I say her name in the middle of whatever Jase was saying and he falls silent. âIâd like you to step outside, so I can talk to Jase.â All I can hear is her breathing in this moment. The fear, the hope, the surprise of her surroundings. My poor Aria knows so little. But sheâll learn.
She quickly nods but she doesnât move until my hand slips down her back, leaving a trail along the silk. Jase stays by the island, his hands in his pockets as I lead her to the door. Itâs black glass as well and blends into the wall, only opening when a verified print is pressed against the biometric security panel. Aria watches intently, but she wouldnât be able to open it if she tried and with fifteen-foot walls around the garden and a guarded fence around the estate, she wonât be able to run.
I can see it on her face when the realization registers with her.
âAnd when Iâm done with this conversation, itâs back to the bedroom.â I lean in closer to her and whisper in her ear, âIâm going to fuck you until Iâve had my fill.â
The sound of Jaseâs footsteps lets me know heâs coming as I watch Aria walk into the garden, letting the sun hit her face as if itâs the first time sheâs ever experienced it.
âI have Jared on the lookout at the club. Weâll have a list of the heavy buyers of S2L by the end of the week.â
âPerfect,â I answer him although I watch Aria walking deeper into the garden to lie on a patch of grass. âAnything else?â
âTalvery knows we have her.â
A smile pulls my lips up. âIt took him long enough. One of Romanoâs men leaked it?â
I turn to Jase, whoâs watching Aria as he nods. âIt couldnât stay secret forever.â He turns to look at me before adding, âHeâll come for her.â
âHeâll want to,â I correct him. âBut which of his men would be willing to come here and die for her?â
âShe speaks highly of Nikolai,â Jase offers, and I can see the hint of a smile on his face. Ariaâs first week in the cell gave me plenty of information as she talked out loud to nothing but brick walls, begging for help and companionship. Nikolaiâs name slipped from her lips nearly every single fucking day.
âLet him come. He can be the first of them to die.â