6. The First Move
Chapter six
The First Move
Isat immobile in the center of the living room sofa.
The high ceilings and massive front-facing windows offered zero privacy from the main entryway or the grand staircase.
Anyone walking through the foyer could see me perfectly.
A thick cashmere throw trapped my legs against the cushions, radiating a suffocating heat.
The living room felt like an open exhibit. Maids passed back and forth through the adjoining dining room, carrying dusters and silver trays. I had nowhere to hide from their pitying glances.
Tobias stood directly behind the sofa, his hands locked onto my shoulders.
He pushed his thumbs into the muscle near my collarbone, kneading the flesh in a slow, rhythmic circle.
They pressed into the same shoulders he had authorized men to drag across wet concrete just yesterday.
Every time his knuckles worked across my back, my stomach turned.
I stared straight ahead, keeping my expression blank.
“No, not like that,” Lavinia snapped, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the estate’s climate control.
She perched on the edge of the glass coffee table, pointing a painted fingernail at a young maid carrying a stack of velvet pillows.
“Tuck that square one directly behind her lower back,” Lavinia instructed, waving her hand. “Don’t just toss it on the cushions. She needs genuine support.”
The maid scrambled forward, her shoes squeaking on the polished hardwood floor. She leaned over the sofa and wedged the velvet pillow into the small of my back. The fabric bunched uncomfortably against my spine, holding me rigidly upright.
“Is that better, Mrs. Stanton?” she asked.
“Yes,” I murmured, keeping my chin tucked down. “Thank you, Jane.”
Lavinia shooed her away and leaned back. A potent cloud of her floral perfume drifted over the cushions, masking the faint scent of floor wax. I gripped the edges of the cashmere blanket with both hands, using the thick fabric to hide my trembling fingers.
“Let me get that for you,” Tobias said, leaning over the back of the sofa.
He reached past my face, his wool sleeve brushing my cheek. He picked up a fine china teacup and matching saucer from the silver tray resting on the side table. Steam curled from the rim, carrying the sweet, earthy scent of chamomile into the space between us.
“Watch your hands,” Tobias warned, lowering the saucer toward my lap. “The porcelain is burning hot. I just had Marta pour it.”
I released the edge of the blanket and reached up. I slid my fingers around the fragile handle, taking the weight of the saucer in my other hand. The heat bit into my skin. I did not pull away. Instead, I let my hands shake.
The fine china clattered against the saucer, the clink, clink, clink echoing through the vast room. I forced a stifled sob and tipped the saucer just enough to let a single drop of hot tea splash onto my thigh. It burned, but the sting kept me grounded.
Tobias’s hands clamped back down on my shoulders to steady me. The fake devotion in his touch made my skin crawl. He believed my tremors were born of genuine terror, blind to the fact that it took every ounce of my willpower not to hurl the boiling water directly into his face.
“Drink the tea, sweetheart,” Tobias said, his voice taking on the slow, careful rhythm you’d use for a frightened child. “It will help you sleep. I’ve already cleared my schedule for the rest of the week, and I won’t leave your side.”
His promise hung between us. The man who had paid a crew to break me was now acting as my shield.
Lavinia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she surveyed my trembling hands.
“The poor thing is exhausted, Tobias,” she said, her voice dropping into a gentle, coddling register. “Fluff that pillow behind her back. She shouldn’t be sitting up so straight.”
Tobias adjusted the velvet cushion, pressing the fabric against my back.
“We need to keep her stress-free,” Lavinia added, sighing as she watched the tea slosh in the cup. “You are safe now, darling.”
I let the cup rattle one last time before lowering it closer to my lap, keeping my shoulders slumped and my gaze averted.
“Thank you. Both of you,” I whispered, keeping my eyes fixed on the trembling porcelain. “I don’t know what I would do without you here. I just feel so weak.”
The scent of Tobias’s cologne settled over my shoulder. His thumbs remained pressed against my spine. Lavinia sat just inches from my knees.
If I endured five more seconds of their smothering proximity, my control would snap. I would scream. I would turn and drive my fingernails into Tobias’s throat.
I needed physical distance.
I slammed the teacup down onto the saucer. The porcelain struck with a clatter, sending a wave of hot chamomile splashing over the rim to pool in the shallow dish.
“Careful, Cecilia!” Tobias barked, snatching his hands back from my shoulders as the hot liquid hit the cushions. “The tea is spilling!”
I dropped the saucer onto the silver tray. Reaching up, I grabbed the lapels of my cashmere sweater and pulled the fabric tight across my chest. I bent forward over my knees, tucking my chin down. I let the fabric slip, pressing my palms flat against my face, burying my eyes in the dark.
I dragged up the memory of the rough, chemical-smelling cloth the thugs had tied around my head. I forced my mind back into the suffocating blackness of the SUV.
I forced a high-pitched, ragged gasp. I rocked back and forth. The soft cashmere rubbed against my forearms. I hyperventilated into my cupped hands, letting the damp heat of my own breath gather against my skin.
“I can’t,” I gasped, pressing my hands tighter against my face to muffle the frantic sound of my breathing. “The car, it was so dark! They tied my hands, I couldn’t see!”
Tobias moved around the edge of the sofa. His leather shoes tapped on the floorboards. He crouched down next to the coffee table, leaning in to demand my attention.
“Cecilia, hey, look at me,” Tobias said, reaching out to grasp my knee through the thick throw blanket. “You’re in the living room. You’re home.”
I flinched the exact second his fingers closed over the fabric.
“Don’t touch me! Just… just give me a second! I can’t breathe!”
Tobias stepped back. The soles of his leather shoes scuffed against the floorboards. He reached out, his fingers grazing Lavinia’s elbow to guide her back from the coffee table.
“Let’s give her some space, Lavinia. Come on,” he murmured.
They retreated toward the arched doorway of the adjacent dining room. The distance offered a momentary reprieve from his suffocating cologne.
“Give her a moment, Tobias,” Lavinia replied in a slow, practiced hush. “Let her cry it out. We’ll be here for her no matter what.”
“Of course,” Tobias said from the threshold. “We’ll wait as long as it takes.”
I stayed hunched over my knees, forcing out another ragged gasp to make sure they heard me panic. The stifling weight of the blanket kept me anchored in place.
I buried my face deeper into my cupped palms, but the tight, heavy pressure of my hands against my skin was becoming unbearable. I lifted my head a fraction, cracking my fingers apart just enough to let the hot breath escape. Through the narrow gap, I looked straight across the living room.
The massive antique mirror mounted on the far wall offered a perfect view of the dining room threshold behind me.
Tobias and Lavinia stood side by side in the reflection.
They were not watching me with the frantic worry they had displayed at the precinct.
Tobias had his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers, his posture relaxed.
Lavinia leaned toward him, her shoulder brushing his arm.
A slow, amused smile stretched across her painted lips.
Tobias matched the expression, breaking into a smug grin.
They were reveling in the performance. They love this. Watching them smile at my expense didn’t crack my resolve. It gave me exactly what I needed to keep going.
They were arrogant enough to take pleasure in my pain right inside this house. That arrogance guaranteed they would make a mistake. I just had to feed their egos until they slipped.
I leaned forward, pressing my hands into my eyes to smear the moisture across my face. I forced out a pathetic, high-pitched whine.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, throwing enough panic into my voice to make sure they both heard me. “I’m trying to calm down…”
In the mirror, the amused grin vanished from Lavinia’s face. She snapped upright, and the frantic, coddling mother instantly returned to her eyes.
“Take your time, dear,” Lavinia cooed, her hollow voice echoing off the high ceilings. “Just remember. You’re safe now. With us, at home.”
I lowered my hands to my lap. My fingers twisted the soft cashmere in my lap. Lifting my chin, I forced a tremulous, wet smile and turned to look at the monsters standing in my doorway.
“Thank you. Thank you both for understanding.”
Sunlight spilled across the Persian rug. I sat on the edge of the king-sized mattress, resting my palms flat against the quilted comforter. Tobias stood in the open doorway of the master bedroom. His fingers worked the knot of a silver silk tie, adjusting the fabric against his crisp collar.
“Cecilia, sweetheart, look who arrived,” Tobias said.
He stepped to the side, clearing my view of the second-floor hallway. Bastien stood in the corridor. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit that did nothing to hide the intimidating span of his shoulders. His gaze flicked to me, his features entirely unreadable.
“Ma’am,” Bastien rumbled, dipping his chin.
Tobias preened in his tailored suit, oblivious to the enforcer standing just inches from his shoulder. He was putting on a show, needing Bastien as an audience to witness his fabricated devotion.