I break.
“First, my boss rushes me to a meeting about the stupid discrepancy. This Koschei Group is making my life a living hell. Then, I have to abandon my coffee at home in my rush. Then, my good deed! I try to return some asshole’s credit card, and what happens? HE MURDERS TWO MEN AND KIDNAPS ME! In what fucking world does that happen? My good intentions lead to me being taken, Liam Neeson style”
I sob harder.
“And now, now you’re threatening my puppy. Benny didn’t do anything wrong!Ididn’t do anything wrong! I was just trying to be nice! And now I’m in this fucking car, with a fucking murderer. AND I NEVER EVEN GOT MY COFFEE!”
I completely break down.
I hold my face in my hands as my entire body convulses with sobs. Tears stream down my cheeks. I don’t even bother wiping them away.
I’m just done.
Then I feel it.
A tentative pat on my back.
Oh. My. God.
Matthias is patting my back.
Matthias the kidnapper. The murderer. The psycho.
Comforting me.
Matthias the hottie.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. As long as you follow my directions, nothing will happen to Benny. I have a big yard he can play in while we figure this out.”
His tone is soft. Cautious.
I guess he’s not used to hysterical girls. But it’s his fault I’m this way. If he didn’t want to deal with a sobbing wreck of a girl, then he shouldn’t have kidnapped me. I refuse to feel sorry for him. But at least now I know he has a heart. Even a psychotic murderer needs one.
Oh my God. I’m letting a murderer comfort me.A hot murderer with a soothing voice.But a murderer nonetheless. A murderer who is currently kidnapping me and is the reason I’m a wreck.
The realization snaps me out of it.
“GET OFF OF ME!” I shriek as I shrug him off.
He hesitates, like he doesn’t quite understand what just happened. But then, he just nods and goes back to driving.
We sit in silence once more.
I couldn’t say if it’s been minutes or hours when he finally speaks again.
“We’re here.” His voice is quiet.
I exhale shakily, only just managing to pull myself together. The car slows, pulling through a massive wrought-iron gate guarded by armed men.
I glance out the window.
My jaw drops.
This isn’t a house. It’s acastle. I’ve never seen a bigger home.
It’s breathtaking, all warm stone, with a grand entrance, towering columns, and intricate balconies that look straight out of a historical romance.
The front garden alone is bigger than my entire backyard and full of fountains, sculpted hedges, and bushes trimmed to perfection.
