Chapter 26
Violet
I woke to unfamiliar softness.
For a moment, I didn't open my eyes. Just lay there as my awareness returned in fragments. The mattress beneath me was impossibly plush; nothing like my dorm room bed. The sheets felt like silk against my skin, and the pillow… god, the pillow was like sleeping on a cloud.
Where...?
Memories suddenly crashed back. The forest. The chase. Julian catching me. The car.
My eyes flew open. I was staring at an ornate ceiling painted in soft cream with gold leaf accents forming intricate patterns across the surface. A crystal chandelier hung above me, catching the morning light streaming through tall windows.
I sat up quickly, heart hammering, and took in my surroundings.
The room was enormous. Easily three times the size of my entire dorm suite.
The bed I was lying in was a massive four-poster with carved posts that looked antique, draped in cream and gold fabric that matched the ceiling.
Plush area rugs covered gleaming hardwood floors, and oil paintings in gilded frames hung on walls papered in subtle damask patterns.
It was beautiful. Breathtaking, even.
I threw back the covers and realized someone had changed my clothes while I was asleep. Gone were the torn sweater and cargo pants from last night. Now, I was wearing soft pajamas in ivory silk that definitely weren't mine.
The thought of someone undressing me while I was unconscious made my skin crawl.
Julian, I thought, not sure if that made it better or worse.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet sinking into the plush rug. The room had multiple doors. I tried the most obvious one first; solid wood with an ornate brass handle.
Locked. Of course.
I moved to the windows next. Floor-to-ceiling and flanked by heavy velvet curtains in deep burgundy. The view beyond showed manicured grounds stretching toward distant forest, everything bathed in early morning sunlight.
I tried the window latch, but it didn't budge. I examined it closer and realized it wasn't just locked. It was sealed. These windows weren't meant to open. Ever.
A gilded prison. That's what this room was. Beautiful, luxurious, and utterly inescapable.
I went over to try the second door and found a bathroom that made me stop in my tracks.
It was almost obscene in its lavishness.
Marble everywhere, an enormous soaking tub sitting beneath another crystal chandelier, and a separate glass-enclosed shower that could easily fit four people.
Double sinks with gold fixtures. Heated towel racks.
A vanity area with a lit mirror surrounded by beauty products.
I tried the third door next. It opened into a sitting room that looked more like a miniature library.
One wall was dominated by a massive television, its glossy black surface reflecting the morning light, while the other walls were lined with built-in shelves packed with books.
A soft leather sofa sat facing the TV, a glass coffee table positioned neatly in front of it.
I stepped out and tried the fourth door, revealing a walk-in closet that was almost as large as the bedroom itself.
My jaw dropped at the sight of it.
Racks of clothing lined both walls. Dresses, blouses, coats, pants, skirts, all in my size.
I checked a tag at random. Designer. There were also shoes organized on built-in shelving, everything from sneakers to heels, and drawers that I opened to find lingerie, loungewear, workout clothes, and jewelry displayed in velvet-lined cases.
Everything was perfectly organized, in my size, and clearly chosen with care.
I backed out, my breath coming faster. This was too much. Too elaborate. Too... permanent.
I moved back to the windows in the main room, examining every inch for any weak points, but I quickly realized the glass was probably reinforced. Also, even if I broke one—and with what?—I was several stories up. The drop would either kill me or leave me with permanent injuries.
Think, Violet, think, I told myself as I sank onto the end of the bed, mind brimming with frustration. There had to be a way out of this place. Just had to be.
But my mind kept circling back to the same realization: Julian had planned all of this meticulously.
The clothes in my exact size. The expensive toiletries in the bathroom.
The room filled with books. This wasn't some hastily prepared cell.
This was a room that had been waiting for me for god knows how long.
So he’d obviously known for a long time that he would catch me and bring me here… and that meant he’d probably thought of everything to prevent my escape.
As I sat there contemplating that dark thought, I heard a quiet click from the main door. The lock disengaging. I jumped to my feet instantly, my heart racing.
The door opened, and Julian stepped inside carrying a tray of food.
He looked infuriatingly well-rested, dressed casually in dark jeans and a charcoal sweater. His hair was slightly damp, like he'd recently showered. He took in my defensive posture, and something that might have been amusement flickered across his face.
“Good morning,” he said calmly, setting the tray down on a small table near the settee. “I brought you some breakfast.”
“What the hell is this?” I asked, gesturing around the lavish space.
He blinked. “It’s for you, Violet. I thought that was obvious.”
“But why?” I demanded. “Why any of this? The clothes, the room… do you think this somehow makes the fact that you’ve kidnapped me more acceptable?”
He tilted his head, studying me like I was overreacting to something perfectly reasonable. Then he nodded toward the tray. “You need to eat before you do anything else,” he said. “Have some water, too. It’s not healthy to go so long without anything in your system.”
I let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You hunted me down like an animal and locked me in a gigantic cage, and now you’re acting like you care about my health and wellbeing?”
“Violet—”
“Don’t.” My voice broke on the word. “Don’t say my name like we’re… like this is normal.” My throat felt tight, and tears were stinging my eyes. “You had no right to touch me. To bring me here. To keep me here.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t reply. Just watched me with that infuriating calm that made me want to scream.
“Tell me why you brought me here, Julian!” I went on. “Tell me right fucking now!”
He still didn’t move or respond in any way. Just stared.
Something inside me suddenly snapped. I grabbed the nearest thing within reach—a glass from the tray—and hurled it at him. It shattered against the wall inches from his shoulder, water splattering across his sweater and the floor.
He didn’t even blink. “Feel better now?” he asked.
“Go to hell,” I seethed.
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “I can see I’ll need to give you some time to adjust,” he said. “The hunt isn’t over yet, so we’ve still got a while. And we always give the girls a little time to settle in before the process begins anyway.”
“Process? What process?” I asked, my voice rising. “Is it to become some sort of brainwashed sex slave? Is that what this place is for? Is that what my sister was going to expose before you motherfuckers had her killed?”
Julian crossed the distance between us before I could step back, his presence filling the space like a shadow swallowing light. “I’m going to explain everything to you, Violet,” he said. “But only once you’ve calmed down.”
“You think I’m going to calm down anytime soon?” I shot back, glowering at him.
“No, obviously not. So as I said, I’ll give you some space for now,” he replied.
“But don’t worry, you won’t be bored in here.
There’s plenty of books, all in your favorite genres, and a TV with access to every streaming platform.
A maid will bring your meals to you, and I’ll send someone to clean this glass up as well.
And when your emotions aren’t running so high, we’ll talk properly, and I’ll answer all of your questions. ”
I blinked. “Did you say the TV has every streaming service on it?” I asked, mind suddenly whirling.
“Yes. Why?” he asked, cocking his head.
“There’s some shows I like that are only on certain platforms,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.
He laughed. “I know why you really asked, and no, you can’t access the internet on it just because it’s connected to the Wi-Fi,” he said. “I already tested it to make sure. But of course, you’re welcome to try. Maybe it’ll help you realize the truth.”
“What truth?” I asked, gaze snapping back to meet his.
“That I’m never letting you go, because you’re mine,” he replied. “You’ll see that eventually.”
With that, he turned, walked to the door, and left. The lock clicked behind him, soft but final.
I sank to my knees, shaking, staring at the shattered glass glinting on the floor.
You're mine.
The words echoed in my head, over and over, until I wanted to scream. But I didn't. Didn't cry, either. Didn't give Julian the satisfaction, even though he wasn't here to see it.
Instead, I picked myself up, walked to the sitting room, and threw myself onto the leather sofa. I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and turned it on, half out of spite and half because I wanted to see if there was any way to access the outside world through it.
There wasn't.
Julian had been telling the truth. The TV had every streaming service imaginable, but no browser, no way to send messages, no access to anything useful. Just an endless catalog of shows and movies to keep me distracted.
I turned it off and tossed the remote aside.
The hours crawled by.
I paced the room, counting steps. Examined every inch of the walls for hidden passages or weak points.
Went through the closet again, this time actually looking at what was there.
The clothes were beautiful, expensive, and clearly chosen by someone who knew my style.
That should’ve been flattering, but instead, it was deeply unsettling.
Just how long had Julian been watching me? Planning this?