Nara's POV
Four hours. It felt like four days.
I sat on the edge of the black bed with black sheets, black pillows, black walls, and black carpet, while wrapped in a silk robe I didn't put on on my wish.
That alone was enough to make my stomach twist. The maids had forcefully asked me to wear it, saying their master strictly asked me to wear it, or I stayed naked.
The room smelled faintly of smoke and expensive wood. A tray sat on the table in front of me.
There was food, water, and a fork.
I stared at it for a long time. My fingers moved before my brain did. They wrapped around the fork, lifting it, turning it, and watching the metal shimmer under the dim overhead light.
A weapon. It was a weak one, but still, it was a weapon.
My heart pounded once, loud, heavy, and painful.
If I ruined my face, if I carved out my own eyes, Valerius wouldn't touch me. He would not even do it out of curiosity or spite or whatever twisted reason he had to keep me breathing.
Valerius was his name. The maids had given me the information earlier.
Men didn't want ugly girls.
My father always said that.
I pressed the fork to my cheekbone. The cold metal jolted my skin. A breath left me, shaky but determined.
I must remain chaste.
I moved it closer to my eye. My arms still carried red marks from being tied, and I hated it.
And then, a voice jolted me. "Don't."
His voice slid into the room slipping under skin. Quiet. Controlled. Dangerous enough to stop my lungs from moving for one second too long.
I turned sharply.
Valerius stood by the door. His massive frame filled the space without even trying. His hair, black, heavy, and falling down to the middle of his back, caught the faint light like threads of night.
He walked toward me, each step slow, and steady, like he wasn't approaching a girl holding a fork to her eye but merely crossing a hallway.
His presence pressed against the air. Against me.
"Don't do that," he repeated, stopping right in front of me. His eyes, dark storm, cold and intense locked onto mine. "Drop the fork."
I didn't. I lifted it higher, right against my eyelid.
His jaw ticked. That was the only sign he wasn't as calm as he pretended.
"Go ahead," I whispered. "I'll save you the trouble of disfiguring me."
His expression didn't change. Not a twitch, not a flicker, not even a blink of his eyes.
Valerius slowly raised both of his gloved hands, palms open. He stared at me like he was dealing with a frightened animal.
"Keep the fork," he said softly. "Just talk to me."
I blinked.
Talk?
He continued, "I have a few questions. Answer them truthfully, and I'll treat you with… kindness. As long as you're in my care."
Care?
A laugh escaped me. My laugh wasn't sane. "You're holding me hostage, Valerius."
"Temporarily," he corrected, his voice infuriatingly calm. "The conditions depend on your cooperation."
My grip tightened. My pulse throbbed against the fork.
He watched me carefully, before lowering one hand and gently, deliberately, wrapping his fingers around the metal. He didn't yank it. He didn't force me. He simply waited. And somehow… my fingers let go.
He dropped the fork onto the tray.
The clatter echoed through the room.
A moment passed in thick, suffocating silence.
"Where am I?" I asked first, before he could begin whatever interrogation he had planned.
"In one of my rooms."
I rolled my eyes. "I meant, did I leave the country, dumbhead?"
His lips twitched.
Valerius actually looked like he almost smiled.
"You're in Florida," he replied.
I stared at him.
Then I scoffed. Loudly. Bitterly. "At long last, I'm in Florida. The irony of life."
Something warm flickered behind his eyes. He folded his arms behind his back again, slipping back into that unnerving commander posture.
"This is not the version of Florida you wanted?" he questioned, sensing what I meant.
"No shit."
He exhaled a quiet breath, like he found my attitude either entertaining or inconvenient.
Probably both.
Valerius stepped closer. The robe brushed my skin when a strand of his hair swayed near me. His scent hit me, cedarwood, smoke, and ice. It soaked into my lungs before I could stop it.
"Eat," he said, nodding at the tray. "You haven't had anything in seventeen hours."
"I'm not hungry."
His gaze lowered to my lips. "You're lying."
"I'll starve."
"No, you won't."
His confidence irritated me. Everything about him irritated me. His height. His strength. His calm. His voice. The way he made the room feel smaller. The way he kept looking at me like he could take me apart without lifting a hand.
I lifted my chin. "Why did you bring me here?"
"Because your father will tear the world apart trying to get you back," he said casually. "And I want to watch him. I will love to watch him."
My stomach dropped.
He stepped closer again, towering over me until his shadow swallowed me whole.
"But you…" his eyes flicked down, lingering on the bruises on my neck, "you are not a casualty. You are leverage."
"Same thing," I whispered.
"No," he said. "Not to me."
His tone made my breath hitch. I hated that. I hated him. I hated the robe, the room, Florida, and the way the air felt when he stood this close.
I hated that my body didn't know the difference between fear and something else.
"You have questions," he said. "Ask them."
I swallowed. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "Are you planning to hurt me?"
"No."
"Are you planning to kill me?"
He stared at me long enough to make my skin crawl.
"No."
"Then what—"
"To keep you alive," he said, "I have to keep you close. That is all you need to know."
I clenched my jaw. "I don't want to be close to you."
"That," his gaze dropped to my mouth for a fraction of a second, "is unfortunate."
I froze.
He took a step back. It was not out of respect, but control. He moved exactly when he wanted to, never when I wanted him to.
"Eat," he said again. "Or I will feed you myself."
My breath stopped.
He held my gaze, eyes flat and cold. "And I assure you, Nara… you won't enjoy being handled by me."
A shiver climbed my spine, uninvited, and unwanted.
I grabbed the fork.
I started eating immediately like I was compelled to. I have never been this obedient.
He watched.
When I finished, he reached forward and lifted the tray with one hand, effortlessly.
"You will stay here," he said. "You will not be harmed. You will not be touched. Not even by my sister."
He moved toward the door.
"Valerius," I said before I could stop myself.
He paused.
I swallowed. "Why the robe?"
His head turned, just enough for me to see the faintest curve of a dangerous smile.
"You were cold."
Then he left.
And the door locked.