CHAPTER FIVE
KATRINA'S POV
The mirror reflected a face that didn't feel like mine anymore.
Pale skin stretched too tightly over sharp cheekbones, lips quivering even though I tried to hold them still, and eyes that carried exhaustion like shadows etched permanently into them. A stranger stared back at me, and I hated that stranger.
The maid behind me gently dabbed the final brushstroke of powder across my cheek.
It had only been two days in the Adams mansion. Two days, and already the place had begun to eat away at me. Each hour carried its own chaos. I doubted I would last a week. Not with William circling me the way he did. Not with the mansion itself breathing down my neck like a living, watching beast.
I let out a deep, shaky sigh. The sound trembled across the room, bouncing off the gold-lined walls like a confession I didn't mean to make aloud.
As though rehearsed, the maid and her two companions lowered their heads in unison. "We are finished, miss," one of them murmured.
Their skirts brushed the floor as they stepped away from me, bowing in that submissive way every servant here had mastered. And then, silently, they drifted out of the room, closing the heavy door behind them.
The silence they left was suffocating.
I barely had a moment to gather my thoughts before the latch clicked again.
The door pushed open.
My breath hitched the instant I saw him.
William.
He filled the doorway with his presence, that deliberate arrogance wrapped around him like a cloak as he slowly strode toward me. Through the mirror, I saw him approach.
My fingers curled tighter against the fabric of my gown until the material wrinkled in my grasp. I forced my shoulders stiff, bracing myself for whatever new cruelty he had decided to bestow on me tonight.
He stopped behind me, so close that I could feel the heat of his breath ghosting over my bare shoulders. The air thickened. My body locked in place.
From his pocket, he pulled something out—a necklace. Delicate silver glinted in the dim light, its center piece catching the glow like a shard of ice. Without asking, he leaned forward and placed it around my neck. His fingers brushed my skin deliberately as he clasped it shut.
I swallowed hard.
His lips dipped near my ear, and his voice slithered in, low and commanding. "Tonight," he whispered, "you're coming with me to the party… as my woman."
Woman.
It should have meant something dignified—girlfriend, fiancée, wife. But from his lips, it was nothing but a claim, a brand. What he really meant was toy. His property. His entertainment.
My throat tightened painfully. I forced myself to nod. Any resistance, no matter how small, came with consequences I couldn't afford tonight.
Before I could even shift in my seat, his hand shot out, clamping around my neck.
Air strangled out of me as he squeezed softly—not enough to leave marks that couldn't fade—just for a second or two but darkness still pricked at the edges of my vision.
I slowly got on my feet, steadying myself. Suddenly, I stumbled forward, nearly toppling, but before I could hit the floor, his grip steadied me. His hand caught me like a lover's, though his touch was anything but gentle.
"You look tempting tonight," he breathed against my ear. His words rolled with lazy seduction, and yet they made my skin crawl. "If it weren't for this gathering, I would've taken you right here."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I swallowed again, hard, forcing down the shudder threatening to betray me. His voice oozed with the kind of hunger that made my stomach twist.
Before I could find a reply, his lips brushed mine—a swift peck. He withdrew only to curl his hand firmly around mine, guiding it as though cuffing me to him.
"Let's go, mi lady."
The words rolled smooth, but they weren't an invitation. They were a command.
And I obeyed. Because what choice did I have?
I followed him out of the room without hesitation, forcing my steps to match his. My gown whispered against the floor, my breath shallow, my palms clammy against the grip of his hand.
The gathering swallowed us soon enough.
Laughter and chatter filled the grand hall. Glasses clinked, liquor poured freely, and the air reeked of expensive perfume mixed with smoke. Men leaned lazily at the bar, ordering drinks. Women in shimmering dresses tossed their hair back and let their laughter tangle with the music spilling faintly from hidden speakers.
I tried to distract myself, to focus on anything but William's hand still clutching mine. My eyes roamed the room instead.
Now taking this mansion into perspective, It was massive—far larger than I'd imagined. High ceilings arched overhead with crystal chandeliers glittering like captured stars. The bar gleamed in the corner, polished wood and glass shelves stacked with bottles that probably cost more than my entire life back home.
It was… overwhelming. Beautiful, but suffocating all the same.
A bell rang sharply, cutting through the noise. The crowd hushed almost instantly.
"Dinner is getting served. Everyone should kindly move to the dinning room," someone announced.
The tide of people shifted toward the dining room, and William leaned close, his voice brushing my ear. "I need to speak with someone. I'll be back soon."
He didn't wait for my reply. His hand slipped away, and with it went the only anchor tethering me in this crowd.
I nodded quickly anyway, even though he had already begun to walk off. My hand slipped free from his, and I wrapped both of mine tightly together in front of me, trying to stop their trembling.
The crowd surged forward, and I followed, swept up in the current until the dining room opened before me.
And I froze.
This was no ordinary dining room.
It was enormous, breathtaking. A hall that could have belonged to royalty. The walls stretched outward endlessly, adorned with oil paintings and heavy drapes. Tables stretched in neat lines, not just one or two, but many—each grand enough to seat a family of ten.
I blinked rapidly, trying to take it in. All this time, I had thought the small dining room I'd seen before was the only one. How naïve I had been. This house was a labyrinth of secrets, and I had barely scratched its surface.
I hesitated at the threshold, lost, unsure where to go.
That was when one of William's men appeared.
I didn't know his name, but I recognized the cold eyes, the stiff posture, the weight of authority in his stride. He came directly toward me, his gaze fixed.
"Come with me," he said flatly.
My instinct screamed no. But the glint of steel at his hip silenced any defiance before it could form. I obeyed.
He led me to the first table. The one nearest the head of the room.
The moment I saw it, I realized something was wrong.
People avoided this table, their eyes flicking to it with unease before darting away again. No one sat here. Not even near it.
This was definitely William's table, if I'm guessing right, but why would his man bring me here? Alone?
My pulse quickened. Fear prickled along my arms, but still, I sat when instructed. My legs bent beneath me, and I sank onto the chair like a prisoner accepting chains.
Maids swept in with trays of food. Platters glistened with roasted meats, steaming bowls of soup, delicate pastries, fruits carved into intricate patterns. They set them before me with swift precision, bowing low before retreating.
"Thank you," I murmured automatically, bowing my head.
The smell hit me, rich and intoxicating. Only then did I realize how hollow my stomach felt. I hadn't eaten since yesterday, since before the flight that had brought me here. Trauma had numbed my hunger, but now, faced with this feast, my body remembered.
My hand trembled as I reached for the spoon. The silver clinked against porcelain as I lifted it, ready to take that first desperate bite…
Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist.
The spoon clattered back onto the plate.
Before I could even react, I was yanked violently upward. The world spun as I was flung around, crashing into the solid chest of a man I didn't recognize.
His grip was iron. His body heat pressed against mine, trapping me.
And then, his voice—rough, guttural, trembling with something primal—slid into my ear.
"Mate."
My entire body froze. My breath strangled in my chest. My heart thundered so violently that it felt like it might burst free from my ribs.
My hands clawed instinctively at his hold, trashing, fighting, but his arms locked tighter.
If William saw this—if William saw me like this—
I was doomed.
"Get your freaky hands off my woman Wilson" I heard that deep growl from behind and my knees almost buckled as the man's hold slowly decreased.
Immediately I pulled away, and stepped backward. The look on William's face looked like he could or would rip the man's heart anytime soon.
My eyes suddenly trailed back to the man and I froze, my eyes darting back to William and back to him.
They…
They had the same face…iden..tical?