A sound drifts into my ears that shocks me into stillness.
I hear women.Laughing.
I’ve lived all my life on the De Luca estate, and I’ve never heard women laugh together outside the safety of my mom’s rooms. Daring to express that sort of joy or humor in the public spaces risked drawing Enzo’s or Matteo’s or Leo’s attention as to why…and you never wanted to draw their attention if you could help it.
But here, at the Gallagher estate, apparently women laugh freely.
I peer around a corner into a bright little study with books stacked high across the walls and gape.
A pair of identical blond twins sit across from each other in low armchairs, playing some kind of board game.
Diamond-studded bands sparkle on their ring fingers.
Almost immediately, they glance up from the table and catch me staring. They’re lovely, with deep, startling blue eyes and generous mouths. One wears a fitted blue pencil skirt, a flouncy, white silk blouse with silver buttons, and a cropped, white-and-blue fitted blazer. The entire ensemble is chic and clearly expensive.
The other twin sports a pair of light-wash jeans and a plain, long-sleeved silk tee. The chic twin’s hair falls in breezy waves down her back. The casual twin’s hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail.
Their curious gazes take me by complete surprise. Who are they?
What are they doing here? Do they live here, or are they visiting?
They sure don’t seem like prisoners. At least, not in the same way as my mom and me. None of this computes. I can’t square the situation away in my mind.
“Kiara.” Rory gives my upper arm a light squeeze, but I can’t tear my eyes off the twins, who continue to return my attention. “Come on. We’re disturbing them.”
He guides me toward the staircase. I expect him to walk faster and drag me along. Instead, Rory adapts his stride to match my pace.
Almost like he’s being considerate.
The expression on his face gives away nothing.
Is this his subtle way of letting me get more familiar with the place I’ll be callinghomefor the foreseeable future?
Surely, he isn’t worried about my comfort…is he?
Don’t start having nice thoughts about this man,I snap at myself in the quiet chaos of my own mind.Remember that he kidnapped you. No matter what he does or says, he’s a kissing, drugging, abducting bastard. Not to be trusted.
Yes, this abduction, for better or for worse, prevented me from being sold to the highest bidder like Leo intended, but that was incidental. Circumstantial.
It doesn’t absolve Rory of his actions or make him a good guy. For all I know, he’s even more terrible than Leo.
Leo. Ugh.
A shudder rips down my spine.
I can’t even fathom how angry he must be.
His prize auction piece, stolen from under his nose.
Nope, no, nuh-uh. Traveling down that mental road leads to panic attacks and despair.
Up the stairs, Rory and I climb to the second-floor landing, and then he guides me down a curved corridor featuring large windows. We stop outside the first door that appears.
A man large enough to double as a professional wrestler is stationed out front. Rory slows his steps and nods to the guard, who opens the door.
Oh. So this is it.
This is the part where Rory throws me into a dingy cell and leaves me to rot until he believes I’ll be ready to cooperate.
