Chapter 5 Kateřina
My head is pounding. I feel like throwing up, as if I had drunk the whole party last night. My eyes open in a stupid attempt to wake up, but it’s clearly a mistake. Dazed and hazy, I try to get up from the bed I’m lying in.
The headache is unbearable, and the room is spinning. I sit on the bed and rest my head in my palms, pressing my throbbing temples, trying to ease the pain.
I need water. I always leave a glass of water on my nightstand. Without giving it a second thought, I reach for the glass next to me, and strangely, I see a pack of painkillers right next to it. Weird. However, this little bottle seems like a lifeline in my excruciating morning.
Is it morning? It’s still too dark. With shaky hands, I gulp down a painkiller and down the glass of water greedily, as if it will ease my pain faster. I am dehydrated.
How much did I drink last night? But, wait … I don’t even drink.
Suddenly, I lift my gaze to scan the room. It isn’t as dark as I’d thought; the space is dimly lit. This place doesn’t feel like home. Where the hell am I?
I lower my eyes to check myself and realize I’m no longer wearing the dress from last night but instead an oversized white shirt. It looks like a man’s shirt.
My heart starts pounding, and my skin crawls. In an instant, I feel like I’ve sobered up, and I dart my eyes everywhere, trying to understand where I am.
No, I’ve never seen this place before. The room looks opulent and endless, filled with heavy yet modern furniture, and there are three doors.
I need to get out of here. One of them has to be my way out.
I get up and rush toward the first door, the one centered on the wall, but just as I reach for the handle, it opens wide.
“Hello, there.”
“You?!”
Cain? Is this his house? What happened? Why can’t I remember? Did he kidnap me?
He takes a step forward, making me take one back, and closes the door behind him. My eyes stay locked on him, tracking his every move, every lingering glance he casts my way.
He looks different now. Darker, more sinister. The man who saved me last night now looks like the thing I should be running from. Every cold expression on his face, every shift in his stance, radiates danger.
He scans the room, and his eyes land on the nightstand.
“I see you took the painkillers.” He moves closer. “Your head must be pounding.”
“What?”
“Sit and relax. I will explain everything.”
Sit and relax? Dude, you kidnapped me, and you’re asking me to relax?
“Why don’t you open the door?”
He crosses his arms, making my stress accelerate. “It’s not locked. You can leave the room if you want. I just want to talk to you first.”
“I want to leave.”
His eyes are intense and persistent on mine as he uncrosses his arms and prowls closer to me. Unwillingly, I take a few steps back until I trip and fall onto the bed.
He gently grabs my chin and raises my head to meet his glance. “You’re safe here.”
I can’t breathe normally. I feel my breaths becoming shallow and my lower lip quivering in fear.
“What do you want?” I ask, my eyes refusing to look away from his.
He hums, his face expressionless. “Your safety, Kate?ina.”
My jaw tightens as tears slip down my cheeks. “Then let me go home,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“I can’t do that,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing.
Instantly, sobs consume me at the sound of it. I knew it before he said it, but hearing it out loud is something terrifying.
“Why? What do you want from me?”
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly spreads my legs and kneels on the ground. Terror devours me. I feel numb, incapable of stopping him and defending myself.
“I told you,” he mutters, his arched brows softening as his fingers trace my jawline. “I want your safety.”
“Who are you protecting me from?”
He doesn’t talk, intensifying my fear. His head cocks to the side as his dark green eyes study my face. “The world is a filthy and dark place, little rose.” I press my lips together as he gently wipes my tears with his thumb. “There are monsters out there.”
“And you’re not a monster?” I ask, locking my gaze on his.
He nods. “I am.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I flinch, instinctively pulling back in terror. “I am a horrible monster, and I’ve done awful things. But you …” he breathes softly. “You are something bright, Kate?ina. The beauty through this chaos.”
I’m shaking, my breaths shallow and rapid, teetering on the edge of a panic attack. How will I get out of this hell?
“Will you kill me?”
“No.”
“Where is my dress?”
His face darkens as a sinister expression crosses it. “I burned it.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he touched it. And I won’t allow you to wear anything that’s been touched by another man.”
“He also touched me,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them. Regret floods me instantly. What if he wants to set me on fire, too?
His gaze darkens dangerously. He closes his eyes, jaw clenched tight as if struggling to contain the fury boiling underneath. “I am aware,” he hisses.
“So, you …” I gulp. “How did I end up in this shirt?”
His eyes drop lower, and he bites his bottom lip. “Eleanor dressed you. My maid.”
I need to play along with his game before I find the right moment to run away.
I softly grasp the collar of my shirt. “Is it yours?”
He smiles broadly, and a beautiful, almost predatory grin crosses his face. “Not anymore.”
He looks like a completely different person. How can someone change their mood so effortlessly, so completely, in just two seconds?
I need to be calm—calm, sweet, and kind.
I exhale deeply. “Cain …” He bites his lip again, his eyes traveling all over my face, devouring me whole. “I wanna go home.”
“Shhh,” he says softly, his hand slipping beneath my clothing, tracing a line along my collarbone up to my shoulder. “This is your home now.”
His touch makes me weak at the knees, yet it makes my skin crawl. More tears run down my cheeks as I realize I’m screwed.
“You sound like a psycho,” I whisper, my voice trembling again.
It’s strange, because nothing about him hints he’s capable of kidnapping someone.
He’s wearing a turtleneck again—sand colored this time.
It sculpts his athletic frame, making his dark green eyes appear even cooler.
Grayer. His hair, darker under the dim room light, still frames his chiseled face perfectly, voluminous and well styled.
He looks like someone who could have everything. Someone who could take whatever he wants. So why is he doing this to me?
He chuckles. “Make yourself at home.” He stands up, towering over me with his imposing figure. “You’re not a prisoner in your room. You’re free to go anywhere you want inside my house, but you can’t leave it.” He turns around to depart. “You just need to follow the rules.”
I stand up as well. “You can’t keep me here against my will!”
He doesn’t talk; he keeps walking toward the door.
“Hey!” Anger consumes me and replaces my fear. I need to stand up for myself. I grab the glass of water and throw it on the wall right next to him. He pauses. “I’m talking to you!” I snap, my voice gruff and sharp.
He faces me, his expression twisted and dark. I’m afraid. No, I’m not afraid. I am terrified. But I can’t stay here just because he says so.
“You can’t just walk away from me!” I yell at him.
Unbothered, he moves closer to me, repeating his predatory behavior. However, this time, I don’t back down. I stand my ground and remain motionless. Steady and determined.
“I’d love to spend more time with you, little rose, but I have things to do.” His smirk grows wider.
“I was wrong about you. You don’t sound like a psycho,” I snap, clenching my teeth. “You are a psycho!”
“I’ve been called far worse things than that.” He leans in closer, looming over me. His voice drops, low and raspy. “Understand this, Kate?ina … this won’t be easy for you. Not when you refuse to follow the rules.”
My ears ring with adrenaline and fury. I have to leave. “I hate you.”
“You might want to reconsider, because you won’t like it here otherwise. You can have anything you want while you’re here … but only if you cooperate.”
There’s a thin line between obeying and realizing it’s time to be brave.
All you need to do is step across.
Just do it. Toe the line, and do it.
I have nothing to lose.
Determined, I slap him fiercely on his cheek.
Before I can even blink, his hand closes around my throat, gripping me tightly as he throws me onto the bed and climbs on top of me.
“Don’t you ever try to do that again!” he shouts right next to my face as his palm clutches tighter around my neck, leaving me breathless. “You hear me?!”
I’m suffocating under his cold, wide-eyed stare, his furious breaths crashing against my lips.
“Okay,” I mutter with a shallow breath.
He doesn’t let me go right away. His eyes are darker, and I feel like they can see right through my soul.
He finally lets me go and draws back, leaving me coughing repeatedly.
Fear grips me once again. He is dangerous, an obvious psychopath. He has a dark side that I’m terrified to provoke and witness.
I crawl back onto the bed, giving him a terrified look. He follows my eyes, silent, as he tries to calm his uneven breathing.
I shouldn’t have done that. Now he’s even more pissed, and it’s clear he’s determined to keep me here, caged like an animal.
Then, he turns around and walks away, closing the door behind him.
I am doomed. Tears flood my eyes once again at the realization of it. He says he’s trying to protect me from someone, but who is going to protect me from him?
I have no idea how much time I have been crying and picturing a million and one scenarios in my head. I’m too afraid even to stand up, let alone search the room for options. He claims I’m not his prisoner, but every action of his tells me otherwise.
Emily has probably gone crazy by now.
What am I supposed to do? No one has knocked on the door or come to see me. Is he living alone after all?
I can’t live like this. I need to take action.
Hesitantly, I walk closer to the two other doors on the other side of the room. They’re right next to each other, and they look identical. I choose door number one.
It’s a bathroom. Damn, it’s massive, with walls in soft beige-sand tones. It has both a shower and a bathtub, along with a large vanity, a deep sink, and a huge mirror stretching across the wall. Nice touch.
Now let’s see the door number two. I open it, and the sight takes my breath away.
In front of me is the most enormous, luxurious closet I’ve ever seen in my life—and I’ve seen plenty lately.
It’s packed with clothes for every occasion, neatly organized. Formal dresses, evening gowns, shirts, pants, jeans, sweaters, heels, boots, sneakers, coats, and more. Every single piece is more stunning than the last, radiating elegance and class. Anything I could possibly want, all here, waiting.
“Whose is this closet?” I mumble to myself, unable to stop my eyes from darting all over the place.
The way it is organized reveals a man who cares about order and takes pride in maintaining it—and this thought confuses me even more. I need to go out and search for clues. I can’t stay locked in this room forever.
I step out, and a vast corridor stretches before me, painted in near-black tones. Doors are scattered on either side, each one leading to God knows where.
I follow my instincts, passing them and heading straight ahead.
I reach the kitchen, where a middle-aged woman stands, preparing something on the counter. There’s something about her, like the witch from a fairy tale, preparing a meal where I might be the main course.
“Hello, dear. You must be starving,” she says, her voice disturbingly warm.
“Hey,” I barely whisper. She must be the maid he mentioned.
“I’m Eleanor.” Yep, that’s her.
“I’m Kate?ina.”
She turns her back and continues to stir the food in the pot before she has a taste. Gosh, it smells so good and fruity, like clementine, and damn, I love clementine. Is she making clementine jam? That sounds smart, actually.
I haven’t eaten in almost a day, and I’m starving.
“Enjoying your stay here, dear?” she asks without turning to look at me.
“Are you kidding me?”
She chuckles and adds a pinch of salt. “Take a seat. I’ll get you something to eat.”
Without a second thought, I slowly sink into the black chair beside the table, staying silent. The table is perfectly set. Spoons and forks are laid out, along with two glasses—one for water and one for wine.
She opens the oven and takes out a shepherd’s pie. Oh, it looks so delicious.
She cuts a generous piece of it, puts it into a plate, and offers it to me.
“Here. Let me know if you need more.” She smiles brightly, making the corners of her eyes crinkle. Her hair is completely gray, worn in a high and neat bun. She must be in her fifties.
I hesitate. What if she poisoned it?
As if reading my mind, she grabs a bite of it herself. “It’s delicious!”
Nah, it can’t be poisoned, and I’m far too starved not to take my chances.
I grab the first bite. Damn, it’s delicious indeed!
“Wine?” she offers.
“I don’t drink,” I mumble, chewing the delicious ground meat of the food.
And then I see him standing in the corner of the room, penetrating me with his cold gaze.
Suddenly, shudders consume me again, and I feel terrified of him.
“Welcome back, Mr. Manson.”