Chapter 9 — Kiera
The electronic gates parted with a soft creak as the car rolled into the grand estate. The driveway stretched into the distance, lined by towering trees on both sides.
I sat in the front passenger seat with my head against the glass, drinking in the sight outside. This was his place—his mansion. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.
The manicured garden on one side of the courtyard was beautiful: trimmed hedgerows, fresh flowers, hanging lamps, and a mini fountain. I spotted what looked like a helipad in the distance, pressed into the soil like a giant coin.
Silence settled over us in the car as we drove deeper into the estate. Ahead, a massive structure revealed itself, rising three stories. It was built in a blend of old-world European architecture and modern restraint.
The closer we drew to it, the more visible the fountain in front of it became. Carved from black marble, it stood at the center of the courtyard. Water squirted in steady, measured streams from a round upper basin into a larger one below.
Even the wind moved differently here, softened by the careful landscaping.
Finally, we arrived, and he parked the vehicle beside the magnificent fountain. The sound of the spilling water was soothing—not chaotic or loud—but calm.
“We’re here,” he announced quietly, killing the engine.
My eyes caught the tall, arched windows lining the front of the building, their glass darkened from within. The entrance was framed with stone columns and a massive door with a handle shaped like a lion’s head.
On the balcony above were two giant gargoyles with glowing red eyes that gave me the creeps. Although the estate was calm and serene, it did not seem welcoming. Composed. But not welcoming. It was the kind of place built by a man who valued permanence over comfort.
He opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. I did the same, my eyes drinking in the unfamiliar surroundings. I spotted a few armed men on the flat rooftop as I made my way toward the entrance.
The moon’s ethereal glow silvered everything it touched, as the cold, distant stars twinkled in the night sky. The giant door parted open, and he walked inside.
My eyes squinted at the bright foyer lights that enveloped me the minute I stepped inside. The marble floor was cool beneath my bare feet, so polished that it captured my reflection.
Nial’s shoes echoed off the high walls as he led the way, his straight posture exuding power and confidence.
When we arrived at the biggest living room I’d ever seen, we were greeted by two maids. Their heads were lowered, and neither of them could look him in the eyes.
He glanced at me and said something to them in Russian before walking further into the room.
They both approached me with polite smiles. “This way, miss,” one said to me in accented English. “Let’s take you to your room.”
My room?
They led me up the curved staircase at the corner, under the warm glow of an expensive chandelier. I felt out of place, considering how dirty and unkempt I was. Even the maids smelled and looked better than I did.
We went upstairs, through a long hallway, the walls adorned with abstract paintings and portraits. The maids retained their smiles, although they didn’t speak a word. We reached a closed door, and one of them withdrew a bunch of keys.
She inserted the right one into the keyhole, gave it a gentle twist, and the door opened without a creak.
“Here you go, miss,” she said, stepping inside. “Welcome to your new space. If you need anything—anything at all—please don’t hesitate to use the call button by the bedside.”
My eyes fell on the king-sized bed that dominated one side of the room. The mattress was covered in crisp white sheets, smooth and almost untouched by human hands. The white duvet was thick and precisely folded back, with decorative pillows arranged in perfect symmetry.
I’d seen luxury before, in courthouse corridors funded by old money, in penthouses belonging to government officials.
But this was different.
The room was bigger than my apartment—and this wasn’t an exaggeration. It was massive. The warm glow of the hanging chandelier lit the space, and the air carried a faint scent of clean linen and fresh flowers.
A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across the bed. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along one side of the room, draped in sheer ivory curtains. A set of plush couches was arranged around a low coffee table, decorated with a couple of faux books and a flower vase.
Everything in here was perfectly placed.
Clean.
Beautiful.
“The bath has been prepared for you, and there are fresh clothes in the wardrobe,” the second maid said, her voice pulling me back to reality. She gestured toward the massive piece of furniture in the corner. “I’m sure they’ll fit you just fine.”
I hesitated for a moment, trying to process what was happening. “Thank you.”
“It’s our pleasure, miss,” said the first maid, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Don’t forget to push that button if you need anything.”
With that, the two women quietly left the room, closing the door behind them.
I combed my fingers through my hair and caught my reflection in the full-length mirror by the vanity. My lips were cracked, my clothes looked like rags, and my skin was marred with dirt. I looked like a homeless girl who hadn’t eaten for days.
As luxurious and safe as this place was, it was still a cage. Just wider, better looking, and more gilded. I was still a prisoner, and he was still my captor.
I took my clothes off, glanced at my reflection one more time, and headed into the bathroom. The water was clean and warm, a basic luxury that I’d been deprived of for days.
As I washed my body thoroughly, my mind went back to the incident that almost broke me. The face of my attacker flashed in my head, his echoing voice reminding me how close I’d come to getting violated.
If Nial hadn’t shown up when he did, that asshole would’ve had his way with me. The mere thought of that alone irritated me.
The warm water washed over me, and I scrubbed even harder, as if trying to erase the memory. I couldn’t bring myself to think about what my fate would’ve been if Nial had been one minute late.
How did he even know I was in danger? Had he forgotten something and come back to get it when he saw the scene? And why did he react so violently toward his cousin? Not that I didn’t appreciate it—I just wanted to understand his motive.
I hadn’t seen him so furious before. It was like he’d unleashed the monster I’d always known he was. And even though I wasn’t his target, his reaction scared the hell out of me.
Was he protecting me? Or was he punishing the bastard for disobeying his instructions?
He hadn’t protected me from the man who’d tried to suffocate me right in front of him, so why would he try to save me from his cousin? It didn’t make sense to me.
I spent over an hour in that bathroom, washing, making sure I was clean as a wound stitched closed. Once done, I stepped out, a white towel wrapped around me. Steam swirled around my skin as I made my way to the room, fingers combing through my damp hair.
Nial’s protectiveness still lingered on my mind, confusing and unwanted. Yet despite all attempts to brush off any thoughts of him, I failed. As I settled into the chair at the vanity, I reminded myself that he was a monster. One that I must escape from.
I dried my hair, strolled to the wardrobe, and picked out the first pair of pajamas I spotted. A black nightgown. After slipping into it, I headed back to the king-sized bed and slid under the duvet.
It was so comfy and super cozy, a stark contrast to the floor I’d been lying on for days. My body ached, my joints hurt, and I was exhausted. The second I closed my eyes, I fell asleep.
I didn’t wake up until a strange noise pulled me out of the dream world. My eyelids yanked open, and I sat upright, my gaze darting toward the door. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d heard, but my curiosity was piqued.
“Stay in bed, Kiera,” I murmured under my breath. “Stay in bed.” I glanced at the wall clock and realized it was half past midnight.
This was enough reason to lie back, close my eyes, and doze off again. But my mind couldn’t stop wondering what had made that thudding noise. I wanted to see for myself.
The maids had assured me that I was safe here. But why should I trust any of them? I was the stranger here, the prisoner.
Slowly, I got out of bed and began heading toward the door with cautious steps. I grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. The hallway was dark, but I could hear voices downstairs. It sounded like two men were discussing something in Russian.
Get back inside, a voice whispered to me.
I didn’t listen; I took that bold step and closed the door gently behind me. In my defense, I just wanted to know what was happening. What were those men discussing at this time of night?
Kiera Emily Jane, get back inside this instant.
I was almost halfway through the dark corridor when I heard that familiar husky voice.
“Going somewhere?”
“Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed softly, my hand flying to my chest.
The lights came back on, the chandelier’s warm glow illuminating the hallway. When I turned around, I spotted him leaning against the wall, shirtless.
Tousled strands framed his face as he stared at me in silence, his storm-gray eyes catching mine. His body was rigid, shoulders broad and unmoving. His abs were firm, chiseled—sculpted to perfection.
Hot.
Attractive.
But it was the scars that caught my attention. Knife cuts marked his ribs and shoulders alongside longer, harsher lines that looked like welts from a whip. The lashes crisscrossed his body, a testament of how unkind life had been to him.
Each mark hinted at a rough childhood, one evidently filled with pain and torment. No wonder he had ice in his veins. He’d been to hell and back—maybe even more times than I could fathom.
He straightened and began approaching me with his usual slow, measured steps. I tried to stay focused, but his ridiculously attractive body kept distracting me.
“What’re you doing up at this time of night?” he asked, that smooth voice carrying a hint of something I was yet to name.
I blinked, trying to anchor myself to reality. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He halted in front of me. Close. Too close. The scent of his cologne filled the air around me and invaded my senses. I swallowed hard while looking up at his face, my heart drumming at our proximity.
His lips twisted into a faint grin. “Do you ever answer a question like a normal person?”
I raised my brows. “Does anything about me seem normal to you?”
Silence.
His smirk remained.
“I spent six days in a smelly cell, surviving on the same soup ration every day,” I began, my face twisting into a faint frown.
“And then, just recently, I almost got violated—and what did I do to deserve this? I looked into a case to help an innocent girl.” I let the words sink in. “Does any of that sound normal to you?”
He hesitated for a moment. “You missed the part where someone saved you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have needed saving if said person hadn’t kidnapped me in the first place.”
Again, silence.
He held my gaze, that pesky little smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
My throat went dry, my eyes constantly flicking toward the span of his broad shoulders and chiseled abs. I locked my jaw when he took another forward, leaving barely a breath of space between us.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I wondered what he was up to. He traced my gaze to his torso and continued marching toward me while I took slow, backward steps.
“Can’t tear your eyes away, can you?” he teased, his low tone laced with sheer arrogance and mockery.
“Oh, please.” I rolled my eyes as though I was unaffected by his bare skin.
He flashed me that cocky grin again. “You’re shaking.”
“No, I’m not.”
He refused to break eye contact.
My back hit the wall behind me, and a soft moan fell off my lips. I tried to look away—tried to mask the sensation coursing through my body. But that intense gaze of his held me in place.
To fill the awkward silence, I whispered, “You shouldn’t be walking around half-naked if you don’t want people staring.”
“So you admit you were staring at me,” he said.
I clenched my teeth. “You’re covered in scars that piqued my curiosity. Sue me.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, his gaze unwavering. The longer he looked into my eyes, the more vulnerable I felt inside. He was so close to me that I could feel his fresh breath against my skin. Warm and enticing.
My body trembled in shock when he ran his fingers along my arm, as if pushing my boundaries. I should knock his hand off and shove him away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. How could I when his touch had ignited a flame within me?
He leaned in closer than before, his lips barely inches from mine. At this point, my heart was hammering so loudly that I could almost swear he heard it.
A cold shiver ran down my spine from just holding his gaze for so long. My pulse raced in anticipation, my knees too weak to support my weight.
If he reached out to kiss me right now, would I be able to resist? Did I have the willpower to say no?
That uncertainty gnawed at me, leaving me confused and frustrated at once.
Then I heard it, the same sound that had woken me earlier. A loud thud downstairs. A door slammed somewhere on the floor below, accompanied by footsteps approaching and echoing up the staircase.
Then a voice cut through the hallway. “Boss….”
Nial’s expression darkened ever so slightly, displeased by the interruption.
“We need you downstairs.”
He didn’t leave immediately. No. Instead, he held my gaze a little longer, as if savoring the mix of fear and relief on my face.
Without a word, he straightened, turned around, and walked away.
It wasn’t until after he’d disappeared out of sight that I realized I’d been holding my breath ever since. I let out a deep sigh, a hand on my chest as my heart pounded nonstop.
The noise downstairs grew louder by the second, making me wonder what exactly was going on.
Then I heard it. A gunshot.
Bang!
I flinched, eyes wide with terror.
What the hell?