Mara pov
"I have to go, David," I said, standing up abruptly.
"So soon?" He stood up too, reaching for my hand. "Mara, just tell me what's going on. You're jumpy. You're wearing clothes that cost more than my tuition. If you're in trouble—"
"I'm not in trouble," I lied,cutting him short, and the word felt like ash. "I'm just figuring things out. Just eat the rest of the food, okay? I'll see you soon."
When I walked back into the house, the sun was starting to set down, casting long, orange shadows across the living room. Lorenzo was sitting in the armchair, his legs crossed. He was holding a glass of whiskey, and he looked like he hadn't moved since I left.
"You're back," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.
"I am," I said. I set the empty containers on the table. My heart was thumping so loud I was sure he could hear it.
"And the food?" he asked. He stood up slowly, a small wince crossing his face. "Did your friend find it to their liking?"
I looked him in the eye, trying to channel the "selfishness" he said he liked so much. "I told you. I gave it to a girl from school. She loved it, you know she hasn't had a home cooked meal in a while."
Lorenzo walked over to me. He stopped so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His fingers were cool now, the fever seemingly broken, but his touch still felt like a warning.
"A girl from school," he repeated, his voice a low hum. He leaned down, his nose brushing against my temple as he took a slow, deep breath. He was smelling my body, like he was looking for a scent. "That's a very sweet story, Mara. I'm glad you're keeping your friends close."
"I'm not lying," I whispered, though my knees felt weak.
"I know," he said, pulling back to look at me. His expression was completely unreadable, his eyes like dark glass. "And because you're such a good friend, we're going to have a special dinner tonight. Just us. I want to hear all about these 'school friends' of yours."
He turned and walked toward the stairs, his limp more noticeable now that he was tired. I watched him go, realizing that every lie I told was just another brick in the wall he was building around me.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my room for what felt like an hour. The black dress Lorenzo had sent up was heavy, It wasn't soft or flowy; it was made of a thick material that hugged my hips and waist so tight I had to take shallow breaths. It felt like a costume. I looked at my reflection and didn't see the girl who used to spend her Friday nights in the university library with a bag of chips and or run errands for vance. I looked like a woman who belonged in the high class society.
My mind kept drifting back to the park. I could still feel the warmth of David's hand on mine and the smell of the his cologne he wore. I felt like a traitor. I was wearing clothes bought by a man who had a bullet hole in his shoulder because of me, while I was planning my next secret meeting with the man I actually loved.
My stomach was in knots, and it wasn't just from the tight dress but because I was terrified of what this dinner actually was. "Is it a final meal before he got rid of me? Or was he just bored and wanted to see me squirm? I whispered to myself better than anyone else.
I grabbed the small clutch bag on the bed, my fingers cold and stiff. I took one last look at the "Mine" bracelet on my wrist, It glittered under the bedroom lights, a constant reminder that no matter where I went, I was on a leash.
When I walked downstairs, Lorenzo was waiting by the front door. He was leaning against the wall, checking his watch. He wore a dark, tailored suit that fit him perfectly. It hid the bandages on his shoulder, but I noticed the way he kept his left arm mostly still. His hair was pushed back, and his face was clean-shaven. He looked handsome, the kind of handsome that makes you forget for a second that he's a monster.
"You're on time," he said, his voice low and smooth. He looked me up and down, and for a second, I felt a flush creep up my neck.
"The dress is a bit tight," I muttered, tugging at the hem.
"It fits exactly how I wanted it to," he replied. He reached out and took my hand, his palm warm against my cold skin. "You look like a proper date, Mara. Let's go."
He led me out to a matte-black car parked in the driveway. I looked around for Cemal or the other guards, but the driveway was empty.
"No bodyguards?" I asked as he opened the passenger door for me.
"I don't need an audience tonight," he said. He closed the door and got into the driver's seat.