Prologue #2
“You expected it to be locked?” she asked. “Your father wouldn’t like that.”
No, that fucker wouldn’t.
“Do you want me to get a lock for it?” he asked as he tried to peer into the closet.
Had she been hiding in there to keep herself safe? There was no lock on the closet door either.
“A lock? That wouldn’t be permitted.”
“What about for the closet?” he asked.
She shot the closet door a concerned look, then glanced back at him warily.
“No. That wouldn’t be allowed either. It would likely just make him angry. Why do you care?”
He shrugged. How much could he say?
“I’m not a good person.”
She blinked. “Right. You’re a Bartolli. I didn’t expect any of you were.”
“My cousin is. Tabby, have you met her?”
“A few times,” she said guardedly.
“Only one in my family worth knowing,” he told her.
Was that a blanket on the closet floor?
“Are you sleeping in there?” He nodded at the closet.
She shrugged. “It’s the only way I can sleep. Is that a problem?”
The fact that she was sleeping on the floor in a closet instead of in the large bed in her room? Yeah, it kind of was.
She was prickly. Far more guarded and reserved than he’d expected.
And what were you expecting?
He was a fucking idiot.
It was obvious that she wouldn’t talk to him. She was holding back because she didn’t know him and couldn’t trust him.
Standing, he moved to the closet and gripped hold of the door when she tried to pull it out of his hold.
“What . . . what are you doing?” she demanded. “Get away from there.”
Jared stared down at the stuffed whale toy that was sitting by her blanket along with an old book that looked scuffed and marked.
It was all she had in here except from some clothes pushed down to the far end. They all looked skimpy and gaudy.
No doubt stuff his father had picked out for her.
Something struck him at the sight of that whale.
“I want you to leave. Now.”
Her words seemed brave and demanding. But they held a quivery note to them.
As though she was terrified that he wouldn’t listen.
Fuck. He was just making things worse.
“You like books?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you been into the library here at the house?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said with less heat in her voice. “But it doesn’t have much I like to read.”
Hmm. It looked like she was reading a romance book, so he guessed she was right.
Well, that was one thing he could change.
“Go back to bed,” he suddenly demanded. “You look like you need some sleep.”
She frowned at him. Yeah, he’d just insulted her, but it was the truth.
She didn’t look well.
He paused by the door and glanced back. “Do you want out?”
“What?” she whispered.
“Of here, from this marriage?” he asked.
She straightened her shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. I’m fine.”
Right.
So either she wasn’t being honest with him or he’d read her wrong.
And he never read people wrong.
Angie stared at the pile of books on her bedside table in shock. She walked forward slowly.
How had these gotten here?
Who had put them here?
It wouldn’t be Fergus. Her husband, and she used the term loosely, didn’t care what she did as long as she was here and “available” to him.
Angie pushed that thought and those memories to one side. She didn’t want to open up that can of worms. The only way she was managing to get through this fucked up life of hers was by compartmentalizing.
When Fergus was hurting her, she had to go into her head. To pretend that it wasn’t happening.
She’d go to her happy place.
All her life she’d dreamed of a place . . . an island where the sun shone bright and the sand was warm. Where the sea glistened and you could swim straight off the shore with the turtles.
Okay, so she was obsessed with whales, but she didn’t want to swim with them. Although she would love to see one someday.
So this couldn’t have been Fergus.
And it wouldn’t be anyone who worked for him. They wouldn’t dare to give her anything. To make her life any more bearable.
Could it be . . .
No.
Walking closer, she picked up the top book. It was the latest release that she’d been dying to read.
This was so bizarre. No one ever gave her anything. At least not without wanting something in return.
Why would anyone do this for her?
“I hope those titles are acceptable,” a quiet voice said from behind her, making her jump and turn with a small scream.
“I asked the woman in the bookstore what the most popular romance books were. She nearly swooned in delight when I said I would take them all. Not sure if it was the money or because I told her I was getting them as a gift for my wife.”
What . . . what was happening right now?
Who was this man? She’d never seen him before in her life. So why was he sitting in her bedroom?
Had he broken in here?
No, that was ridiculous. Why would someone break in here? Most people wanted to get out of here.
“Who . . . who are you?” she asked, grasping the book tight to her chest as her heart raced.
He was sitting in an armchair, holding something on his lap.
Wally, her whale. She didn’t know how she’d managed to keep him hidden from Fergus all this time. But she wasn’t going to allow some weirdo stranger who broke into other people’s bedrooms to hurt him.
Wally was the only thing she had left from her other life. Before Fergus.
It hadn’t been much of a life. But it had been better than this one.
“Why do you have Wally?” she asked.
“Wally? Not a very good name for a whale,” he said, holding up the toy and staring at it.
Who was this guy? He had hair the color of midnight and eyes to match. She wasn’t even exaggerating. He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. And long, thick eyelashes.
His skin was lightly tanned, and he was dressed in pressed pants and a white shirt that was buttoned to his chin. He looked quiet and unassuming. The sort of person who might blend into the background.
However there was something off about him. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.
He seemed kind of frightening.
She couldn’t put her finger on why he seemed scary. He wasn’t doing anything. He hadn’t threatened her.
She’d met a lot of scary men in her time, including the man who had come into her room last night.
Jared Bartolli had been in her bedroom.
For a start, she’d thought he was there because he wanted to hurt her. To use her the way his father did.
But he’d seemed almost concerned about her.
You can’t believe anything that anyone says in this hellhole.
Yeah, she knew that.
But there was something about Jared that made her want to believe him.
You’re being ridiculous.
His offer of a lock for her door was probably a trap. Same with asking her if she wanted out.
Of course she fucking wanted out! Who would want to stay in this hellhole?
However, she wasn’t going to admit that to anyone whose last name was Bartolli.
Angie knew that everyone here was waiting for her to trip up so they could run to her husband.
Who would have to punish her.
God knew he loved to do that.
The one time she’d attempted to run, he’d found her, dragged her back, locking her in a windowless room until she’d learned her lesson.
Don’t think about that.
“What do you want? Why would you buy me these?”
He stood and she let out a small sigh of relief as he put Wally down on the chair.
He studied her closely, but it was hard to read the expression on his face.
Was he going to hurt her? She braced herself just as a wave of dizziness hit her.
Shit.
She stumbled and fell onto the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
He sounded almost kind, but she wasn’t buying it. There was something a bit off about him.
“Nothing,” she muttered. “Absolutely nothing.”
Couldn’t he see what was wrong?
“I think you’re lying.”
“You don’t know me well enough to tell when I’m lying.”
“That’s true. But you’re pale and dizzy. Plus, you’re here. You can’t be fine living here.”
“I’m surviving.”
“I suppose that’s all any of us can do,” he replied.
Right.
“Who are you and what do you want?” she asked tiredly.
“Why are you dizzy and pale?” he countered.
“Those are personal questions, don’t you think?” she asked.
She’d had enough of this guy. Her head was throbbing and she felt ill.
Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she’d survived all the shit in her life just to be taken out by an illness.
Wow.
Someone up there really did hate her if that was the case.
It felt like there was no winning in this life for her.
“And you don’t think asking my name is personal?” he said to her.
“You’re in my bedroom!”
“Good point. This is your room. In his house.”
She flinched. She didn’t need the reminder that she wasn’t safe anywhere.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
The words were right. But there was something about the way he delivered them . . . urgh, she was too dizzy and tired to work it out.
“I apologize. I should have introduced myself. I’m North, Jared’s assistant.”
Jared had asked him to get the books.
For her.
These books could keep her going for a long time. They could help her escape this shitty world she was living in.
Not that you’ll be here much longer.
There’s a plan, remember?
Right.
That thought made her feel better. She had an exit plan . . . she just had to hope it worked.
“He simply wanted you to have them.”
She blinked.
When was the last time someone had done something this nice for her?
She couldn’t remember.
And yet she couldn’t let herself trust in it, either. Because maybe this could be a way to reel her in. To set a trap.
“Tell him thank you.”
It was the best she could do. She stared at him, guarded and unsure.
“I do need one thing in return.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“You cannot tell anyone that Jared did this. I’m not sure why he did. He’s not a good man. Or a kind man. Understand?”
She didn’t really understand the warning. Why would Jared do something nice, then have this guy tell her that he wasn’t a good guy?