Chapter 3 - Adrian
I get it. She’s overwhelmed. A lot happened in a very short space of time, and she needs a little while to process everything. Patience is a skill I learned many years ago.
“You can’t keep me here. I’ll just leave the moment you’re not looking,” she informs me abruptly as I pull the front door closed behind us.
I release my hold on her. Now that she’s inside the mansion, I am satisfied that she can come to no harm.
This place is a fortress. I know because I designed it that way.
Nothing comes in, and nothing goes out without my permission and awareness.
My head cocks to the side, and an amused smile touches my lips. “Is that so? You’ll leave?” I ask.
She nods, folding her arms across her chest. It seems like a gesture of both defiance and self-protection. Her eyes are wild with fear.
Instead of pushing her further, I decide to treat her with gentleness.
“Your room is upstairs. Follow me, and I’ll show you.”
She sucks her cheeks in and pouts her lips out, shaking her head.
“You can sleep down here in the foyer if you prefer?” I say, testing her.
“I don’t want to sleep anywhere here. And it’s not my room.
My room is back in my apartment in town.
And tomorrow I have to go to work, or I’ll lose my job.
And all my clothes and belongings and… you can’t rip someone from their life like that and claim that they are your wife now just because you say so,” she sasses.
“Where did you work?” I ask.
Her cheeks flush pink. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, it was my life.”
“I assure you, Athena, you no longer need that job. You never have to work a day in your life again. I will take care of you and provide whatever you need. Tomorrow, we will get you new clothes and whatever else you would like.”
“Anything I like?” she scoffs. “I would like to go home!”
Pressing my lips together, I sense my patience slipping.
It’s not her fault, though. It’s been a long day and I’m tired.
“Come on,” I say, ending the argument and walking toward the stairs. I don’t look back to see whether she’s following or not. But I do hear her footsteps on the stairs behind me.
Upstairs, I show her to her bedroom, the one next to mine, which allows me to be close to her without forcing her into my space. It will take her time to settle in.
She walks into the room, and her mouth drops open. “It’s bigger than my whole apartment,” she mutters to herself.
“I’m going to throw some pizzas into the oven. I usually prefer to cook, but it’s been a long day. Are you ok with a pizza?”
“Sure,” she mutters, her brows furrowed as she looks around the room. I don’t even think she heard me properly.
“There are some basic clothes in the closet. I tend to keep things on hand in case I have guests.”
“Guests?” she scoffs. “I’m not a guest. You literally kidnapped me!”
“Well…. In case I need to kidnap someone, then,” I roll my eyes. “I’ll bring your food up when it’s ready, or you can come down. It’s your choice.”
Downstairs, I pull out two frozen pizzas. Certainly not my favorite choice, but after a night like tonight, it’ll be fine. I’ll just throw some extra cheese and some bacon bits on there before I grill it.
While I’m busy in the kitchen, I listen for her, hoping she’ll come down, but knowing she won’t. She’s probably up in the room fuming and angry at me.
If she lets me—I’ll show her a life her father couldn't have. I’ll give her the type of luxury most people only dream of experiencing in their lives. I’ll give her everything. Because she’s mine now, and I take that role very seriously.
The pizzas don’t take long at all, and in no time, the kitchen is rich with the aroma of melted cheese and assorted toppings. My stomach growls in anticipation of the food.
But before I tuck into mine, I cut hers into triangles and put it on a board to carry it up to her room.
However, when I get there, the door is open, and she is nowhere to be found.
An ice-cold breeze shoots through the otherwise warm bedroom, and my eyes drag over to the open window.
I set her pizza down on the bedside table.
“Athena?” I sigh, realizing what she’s attempting.
“Go away!” she blurts out, sounding constricted and agitated.
“Do you need some help?” I ask, trying not to sound too amused.
“I said, go away!”
Walking slowly over to the window, I lean against the frame and peek out into the crisp night air, looking down.
There is a reason this particular window doesn’t have security bars—because it leads nowhere.
Well, not nowhere exactly. It leads to a small alcove where the air-conditioning unit is stored neatly out of sight.
It’s a cramped space. And once you’ve jumped down into it, which you aren’t supposed to do, you can’t get back up without a ladder or someone to pull you up.
I lean over and peer into the dark space, lit only by the bedroom light spilling over my shoulder.
Below me, I see her fidgeting, shifting, wiggling, and making a lot of groaning and grunting noises of frustration.
“Do you need a hand?” I ask softly.
She jumps and glares up at me. “I told you to go away. I’ll just go to….” She shoves at the unit’s metal box.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to move this…” she shoves it again. It doesn’t budge.
Taking pity on her, I lean into the gap and offer her my hand.
Her simmering eyes stare up at me. First with anger, then with breaking resilience. She takes my hand, and with a firm grip on her wrist, I lift her with ease from the small space and back into the bedroom. Her whole body is shivering from the cold.
She stumbles away from me, angry and dusting her clothes off. “What kind of stupid design is that!” she demands, looking up at me with her lower lip pouted out. Fuck it, she’s actually so cute when she’s mad.
“It’s designed to be accessed from the lower floors, not from above.” My eyes trace over her petite figure. She’s like a little bird, fragile, delicate. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close.
“Well, it’s stupid!” she snaps. Her attitude, however, is not like a little bird, and there is nothing delicate or fragile about it.
I bite my lip to hide the smirk threatening to spread over my face.
“Your pizza is getting cold,” I say, changing the subject to ease her embarrassment.
“I don’t care,” she snaps.
“Athena, it was a good escape attempt. But don’t go hungry because it failed.”
“Oh sure, mock me,” she mutters. “That is a safety hazard!”
“Are you going to sue me?” I can’t help chuckling this time.
“Get out!” she snaps.
I raise my hands. “I was only teasing. Come on…”
“Get out!” she demands again. She marches toward me as though trying to intimidate me, which only makes my smile wider.
I keep my hands held up in defense as I walk backward, retreating.
“Alright, alright.” Her long chocolate hair is wild about her shoulders, a little knotted from her escapades. She looks tussled. And fucking sexy.
“Out!” she snaps again.
This time I oblige. Leaving her with her pizza and her solitude in the bedroom, she has no way of escaping. She slams the door behind me as soon as I cross the threshold. My smile widens even more. Oh, she is a hot little potato.
I’m going to have to tread carefully with her if I want to help her settle into her new life.
I head downstairs to get my own dinner. My head is full of thoughts, all of her.
It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to tell her she’s gorgeous when she’s angry.
***
The second morning of her being here with me, she’s making one hell of a noise in the kitchen. Yesterday, she didn’t come out of her room. I went up a few times to take her food, grateful that she isn’t trying to starve herself in protest.
But she didn’t speak to me and wouldn’t even make eye contact.
Today, however, she’s trying a new tactic. Instead of making herself small and invisible, she’s going loud and obnoxious.
She slams one of the kitchen’s drawers, and the cutlery inside rattles in protest.
“Looking for something in particular?” I ask, walking in and tugging the fridge open to get the milk for my coffee. “I’m sure I can help you find it?”
She pulls open another door and finds a metal kebab skewer. A long stainless-steel spike, which she lifts from the draw with a dangerous sparkle in her eye. She waves it at me. “This will do just fine!” she says triumphantly.
“Athena,” I mutter with warning. “Put the damn spike down.”
“Why? Are you scared?” she muses, a cheeky little smile on her face.
“Of that? No. If you wanted to stab me, you could have chosen one of the butcher’s knives instead,” I scoff.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t really plan to be up for manslaughter, thank you. I just want to go home!” She storms from the kitchen.
I’m torn between letting her try out whatever she wants to try out or taking the skewer way from her before she hurts herself. Turning toward the coffee machine, I decide to let her get her frustration out.
However, my mind is very quickly changed when I hear a loud bang coming from the front door.
Dropping everything, I run to the foyer.
Athena holds a small marble sculpture of a goldfish.
She’s jammed the shape end of the metal spike into the door lock and is hammering it in with the base of the sculpture.
She swings her arm, and another loud bang echoes against the door.
“Ow,” she mutters in frustration as she tries to hold the spike steady.
“What the hell! You’re going to end up smashing your own hand if you keep that up!” I snap angrily, grabbing the goldfish from her hand and setting it down on the foyer table.
“You’re just worried about your lock breaking!” she blurts out.
I grab her arm and pull her toward me, checking her hands, searching for any sign of injury.
The spike is still embedded in the lock, but I couldn’t care less.
Athena pushes me away, but I tighten my grip and drag her against my chest. Her scent washes over me, distracting me for a moment. Soft, floral, and feminine.
“What did you think would happen?” I snap.
“The lock will break open like in the movies!” she shouts at me. “Then I can leave!”
I clench my jaw and shake my head, closing my eyes for a moment.
“No, what will happen is that you’ll end up breaking your hand somehow.
Or the spike will slip, and you’ll stab yourself.
And even if…if the lock happened to pop open, which I assure you, it won’t…
what happens after that? There are three additional locks on this door.
One requires a fingerprint scan. One requires a security code.
The only override is by voice command. My voice! You weren’t going to get anywhere.”
My voice is stern, scolding her for putting herself at risk like that.
I take a breath, softening my tone.
“How can I keep you safe when you insist on doing these stupid things?” I demand.
She looks up at me, her breathing is heavy, and her eyes are glowing with anger. “I don’t want you to keep me safe!”
“Well, you don’t get a choice!” I snarl, suddenly far too aware of how her body feels pressed up against mine. My cock stirs. Without thinking, I spin her around and push her back against the wall next to the door. She lets out a yelp of surprise as I pin her there beneath my bulk.
Gently, I wrap my fingers around her jaw and lift her face toward mine.
I want to kiss her. But it would be a stupid thing to do.
Instead, I opt to explain the situation more clearly.
“This mansion is a fortress, Athena. My fortress. You will never get out. And in the same breath, no one will ever get in. You are safe here. The security is more advanced than anything you could imagine. I assure you, I had the world’s top hackers test it.
A skewer and a goldfish are not going to break through my multi-layered, impenetrable shields. ”
She scoffs.
“You’re a liar,” she blurts out.
My fingers tighten on her jaw. The urge to kiss her, to put her in her place, is overwhelming me.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, darling,” I mutter darkly, fighting for control over myself.
“You lied about my father, and you’re lying about this,” she snaps.
Frustrated and needing to distance myself from her, I take a step back. “I didn’t lie about your father. You just never knew the real man he is.”
“I know him. I’ve known him my whole life, and he isn’t who you think he is!
” she shouts. Tears are glittering in her eyes.
It breaks my heart that I have forced her to confront the truth about him.
But in a lot of ways, she’s gone into denial.
Denial about him holding her at gunpoint and denial about him essentially selling her to me.
“Your father isn’t a good man, Athena,” I sigh, pushing my hand through my hair.
“He is. I think you threatened him like you threatened me. You told him you’d hurt me or hurt him if he didn’t do as you said. That’s what really happened. My father is a good man!”
She turns away from me just before a tear runs down her cheek, and as I watch her storm out of the foyer, I realize that she will never take my word for it. Words mean nothing. She doesn’t know me. She has no reason to trust me.
I need to show her something solid. Evidence she can’t deny.
I tug my phone from my back pocket and dial Antonio.
“Boss?” he answers in a single ring.
“Antonio, I need you to put together a team and find out everything and anything you can on Ricardo Mendelez. I’m specifically interested in his shady dealings and lifestyle. I need evidence of it. Better still if you can catch him in the act.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
***
Over the next few days, her relentless attempts to escape continue. My frustration levels are through the roof, and I’m almost ready to lock her in one room and not let her out until Antonio gets back to me. Thank fuck he phones late on Thursday afternoon.
“Boss, he’s up to shit tonight. He just got started, but we’ll definitely get some solid evidence this evening.”
“Good, keep me in the loop,” I mutter with relief. She can finally see for herself. And I hope like hell it snaps her out of her delusions about who the man is.