Chapter 28 – Bellamy
BELLAMY
Everyone is staring at me. And no, that’s not an exaggeration or any form of paranoia.
Somehow we got shuffled over to sit for dinner, only I can’t focus on food or anything other than wondering about where Sebastian and Rowan are and what they’re up to.
Althea is giving me a side-eye every few seconds.
The girls are edgy and perceptive enough to know something isn’t right.
And the rest of the hundreds of people, yeah, they’re on me, too, whispering about me with their eyes glued to my every feature. Especially the massive rock on my hand. A rock I can hardly focus on with everything else.
Sebastian proposed. I’m engaged to the man I love.
I should be bubbling over with excitement, and I am, but it’s overshadowed because my guy isn’t by my side where he belongs. I’m nervous. I’m nervous as hell. I’m not even sure what happened, but one thing is clear.
Samil is dangerous.
I think he might have been dangerous all this time, wearing the mask of the charming politician when his soul is nothing short of evil. I felt it the first time I met him, and I didn’t follow my instincts after he cornered me.
Stupid. So stupid.
“You’re going to be our stepmother,” Sabrina says, twirling her noodles around and around with her fork without eating any of them.
“I am,” I tell her, forcing my lips to curve up at the corners instead of down.
“Are you going to turn mean?”
“I wasn’t planning to. I was thinking we’d continue to be us, but now instead of me simply being your nanny, I’ll be your stepmother, which is a way cooler thing to be.”
“So, not like the stepmother in Hansel and Gretel or Cinderella?”
I shake my head. “Definitely not.” I scrunch my nose. “Your father would never let me kick you out of the palace and Cinderella’s stepmother was old and had weird hair.”
Both girls giggle while Zayer, half asleep, rests on Althea’s lap, his head tucked beneath her chin. It’s late for him. Hell, it’s late for the girls, too.
“I’m happy you’re going to be our stepmother. That means you’ll never leave.”
“I’ll never leave,” I promise Phaedra.
“And you do our braids so much better than Papa.”
I wink at Sabrina. “That too. That comes with me living here with you forever.”
Zayer makes a whining sound, getting a little fussy as he fights sleep. “Do you want me to bring him up to bed?” I offer.
Althea gives me an are-you-crazy look.
“I have to use the restroom anyway.” It would also give me an excuse to go to that part of the palace and maybe check in on Sebastian.
“We’re not supposed to leave,” she murmurs to me under her breath.
“I know, but…”
With a sigh, she glances around the room, her hands rubbing the middle of his back, trying to lull him deeper into sleep. “I’ll keep Zayer here. At least until Rowan or Sebastian returns. Take an attendant with you.”
I nod, rising from my seat. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your phone.”
“Oh, good idea.” I dig through my purse and grab my phone, slipping it into the hidden pocket on the side of my dress, and signal for one of the attendants.
Smiling politely, I keep my head up high as I skirt quickly past the tables so no one has time to stop me.
I have no idea how I’ll manage this new world and this role, but I don’t want to start trying right now.
Certainly not without Sebastian to help guide me until I get the hang of it. If such a thing is possible.
“Miss Wright?” the attendant questions as I approach him.
“Would you walk me to the restroom?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
He waves for me to go ahead of him, but he’s right by my side as we exit the ballroom. It’s quiet out here, secluded other than a few random security people milling about.
“I’ll just be a moment,” I tell him and hurry into the bathroom. I do my thing, wash my hands, and give myself two seconds to admire my ring. I’m engaged. Holy shit, I’m engaged to King Sebastian of Messalina. Wild. Utterly, inconceivably wild.
I wish my father had been here to see it. I wish I could tell him, and he’d be happy and excited for me. I’m so grateful he’s going to be moving here.
Pulling out my phone, I debate if I should text Sebastian and then think better of it. I don’t want to alarm him, and whatever he’s doing is important. I stuff my phone in my pocket and spin around, ready to get back to the ballroom. Being away from the people and the noise is making me uneasy.
A feeling that only multiplies when I exit the bathroom and find the hallway empty. No attendant. No security milling around. It’s dim and eerily silent. My heart rate spikes, and my fingers tingle with adrenaline as I glance around and set off at a brisk pace in the direction of the ballroom.
I don’t get far.
A hand snags my forearm, and I scream as I’m spun in place. A second hand slaps hard over my mouth, stifling my cry.
Frenzied dark eyes are right up in mine. “If you make another sound, it will be more than just you who gets hurt tonight.” Something sharp presses into the bust of my dress, and I whimper, instantly knowing he’s holding a knife to me without having to see it.
“Samil—”
“Are you going to behave? I’d hate to take one of Nora’s children, but I will if I have to. I was willing to do it once before, so don’t test me.”
Jesus. He’s a fucking lunatic.
“You don’t have to do this at all.”
“What will it be? The choice is yours.”
I shake my head, forcing myself to swallow my panic and tears. “Only me.”
He starts to drag me along the empty corridor. Where is the attendant who brought me? He was supposed to stay with me for fuck’s sake.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask because I have to.
If he’s going to kill me, which I assume he’s going to, I won’t die with that sort of curiosity.
I also won’t go down without a fight. I won’t let him hurt the children and I’ll let him take me wherever it is he’s taking me, but if he thinks I’m going to cower and beg for my life only to have him take it, he’s got another thing coming.
It’s this inner declaration that gives me focus.
That clarifies my mind. Sure, I’m still freaking the fuck out.
The man is armed and very clearly unstable.
He’s also a lot bigger than me, so he’ll win in a lot of ways.
But I’m smarter than he gives me credit for.
I’ve been surviving by the skin of my teeth for a very long time.
I won’t be something else that Sebastian and the children lose.
Up the stairs and down the hall, I glance at the ceiling, wondering about the cameras.
Wondering if anyone will see what’s happening and come to find me.
They’ll be missing me in the ballroom. Althea will know something is wrong when I don’t return.
I don’t know what Samil is aware of and what he isn’t, but I have to play this like he knows and has taken care of every rescue possibility, and I’m alone.
In what feels like the blink of an eye, we’re in front of my library’s third-floor entrance, and he’s opening the door, forcing me inside and closing and locking it behind us.
The second floor of the library is an open, grander space.
Up here is more intimate and is my favorite part of it.
It’s always felt more like a secret world than part of the palace.
He doesn’t switch on the light, but he doesn’t have to. Moonlight streams in through the windows, creating a brilliant glow that reflects off the hardwood floors.
I glance to my right, to the fireplace and the discarded blanket.
Just this morning Sebastian and I made love there.
I have his ring on my finger and his heart on my neck.
Is this to be the end for us? The desire to allow that level of grief to consume me is compelling, but much like my panic, I push it away.
It won’t help me. It will only hurt me in the end.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask again since he didn’t answer me the first time.
“Come with me.”
I fold my arms over my chest defiantly. “I already did. Stop being a dick and answer my question.”
A wry chuckle flees his lips as his eyebrows hit his hairline. “A dick? You Americans.”
“Yep. That’s us. Crass and classy as fuck. Answer me.”
He turns on me fully, fierce, unshakable enmity dripping from his countenance.
“It’s simple, actually. I hate Sebastian.
I’ve always hated him. King Sebastian who believes he is so much fucking better than everyone else when he’s not.
He thought I was less than him. He thought he could have whatever he wanted without consequences.
He was wrong. He took something from me.
Something I loved above all else. He took her from me and then he killed her. ”
“You mean you killed her.”
Wrong. Thing. To. Say.
In a flash he’s all over me, the knife under my chin, the point of the blade digging into my skin until I feel blood start to trickle down my neck. I whimper at the sting, biting into my lip to try to stifle it.
“It was supposed to be him,” he snarls. “Not her. I didn’t kill her. He did. He killed her the second he stole her from me. The second she became his and not mine, he killed her.”
My breath lodges in my lungs. I hold impossibly still, my eyes pinching shut as he digs the knife in a little deeper. A tear streaks down my cheek and I’m so pissed it leaked out, but then another follows and it’s hopeless.