But I had barely been standing in the corner, watching people continue to mingle among themselves, when I noticed Nico turn and begin walking straight toward me.
He left the woman who had been practically hanging off his arm behind, approaching me instead with a soft smile on his face.
"You spoke to Bianca," he said.
I had the strong urge to point out that she was his mother and that her brand of crazy seemed to have only worsened with time, but I kept the thought to myself.
"How much longer do I need to suffer through this?" I asked instead, responding with a question of my own.
Relief quietly slipped through me, knowing that I hadn't left earlier. It was obvious now that he had indeed been watching me the entire time.
My gaze met his, and I wasn't surprised to find a cold sort of amusement sitting behind his calm expression as he glanced between me and the crowd moving around the room.
"Soon," he said casually. "I just have to meet with the artist, say a few words in front of everyone, and then we'll be able to leave."
I slowly nodded, not in the mood for conversation.
My irritation from earlier hadn't faded. If anything, it only deepened when he chose to remain beside me instead of moving back into the crowd to speak with the guests who were clearly eager for his attention. Several of them were already throwing hopeful glances in his direction.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Silence settled between us until Nico finally broke it. His eyes were fixed on a painting hanging on the wall beside me when he spoke again.
"Do you think I'm treating you badly?"
I frowned slightly, unsure where he was going with the question.
"…No one else could have done better," he continued, almost thoughtfully.
I knew he wasn't entirely wrong, but the statement only deepened the crease in my forehead.
"Would you like to be a prisoner?" I asked him plainly.
He shook his head slightly.
"but I made it clear that you're a temporary prisoner."
My frown deepened further.
I didn't bother responding. Instead, I simply stared at him in silence.
What kind of temporary prisoner carried a billion dollars' worth of debt? Even if I worked every day of my life, it would still take years—maybe even decades—to repay an amount like that. Never, if father chose not to make me heir.
My mood worsened as I looked away from him, forcing a polite smile onto my face whenever another guest approached to greet him.
Eventually, the artist decided it was time to give a speech, and Nico was called to stand beside him and say a few words as well.
I didn't even attempt to listen.
Instead, my attention drifted toward the large windows lining the wall. Through them I could see cars arriving one after another while valets moved efficiently between them, taking keys and parking the vehicles.
Some cars were temporarily left in the driveway with the keys still inside while the valets hurried to handle other arrivals. The sight made my heart begin to race.
I could take one of them.
Most were already filled with gas. All I would have to do was drive. If I moved fast enough, even Nico might not be able to find me. We were in the central part of the city. With enough fuel, I could reach the highway and leave the entire city behind before anyone realized what had happened.
My heart pounded harder as the thought took hold. I swallowed the lump building in my throat before turning back to look at Nico. He was still speaking. But somehow, he knew.
His gaze locked onto mine across the room while he continued smiling warmly at the crowd. Yet behind that smile was something else—a quiet warning in his eyes that felt almost like he knew exactly what I was thinking.
As if he knew what I was about to do. For a moment doubt crept in. But this time, something inside me refused to back down. My pulse raced faster and faster as I turned back toward the windows again.
That was when a sleek car pulled into the driveway—a bright red Ferrari.
The occupants stepped out, laughing as they left the car in the ignition to be attended to before heading inside the hotel beside the gallary. The car remained there with the engine switched off waiting for a valet who hadn't arrived yet.
This was the wealthy district of the city. People here moved with the confidence that no one would dare commit a crime in a place like this.
At that moment, all I could hear was the rushing sound of blood pounding in my ears. Before I could talk myself out of it, my feet moved. I walked straight toward the door without looking back at Nico.
For a brief moment I simply stood outside, half expecting a guard to step forward and stop me.
An excuse about needing fresh air was already forming on my lips.
But no one approached me. Not a single person stopped me. The next second I bolted forward faster than I thought my body was capable of moving. Every instinct inside my head screamed for me to stop. Logic argued that something was wrong. Nico wasn't careless enough to leave an exit completely unguarded.
How could he possibly allow me to leave so easily?
But another part of me clung desperately to a different possibility—that he simply didn't believe I would try to escape. That he didn't think I dared to do it.
Barely a moment after reaching the car, I jumped inside. I threw the car into reverse and sped out onto the street before anyone could react. Within seconds I merged into the main road, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I drove as fast as I could without attracting police attention.
My heart roared in my chest as the city blurred around me.
Nothing else mattered except putting as much distance as possible between me and Nico.
Miles passed before I finally slowed down.
By the time the fuel gauge hovered dangerously close to empty, I had reached the outskirts of the city where the buildings grew sparse and worn down. Eventually I pulled into a rundown inn beside an old fuel station.
Only then did the car finally come to a stop. Even after turning off the engine, my heart continued racing wildly in my chest.
I clenched my hands together, trying to steady my breathing. Sweat soaked through my clothes despite the cool night air flowing through the open window. My palms felt damp as I slowly lifted them away from the steering wheel.
I didn't dare step out of the car yet. What if I was still being followed? What if Nico had already sent someone after me? I swallowed hard, forcing my breathing to calm.
I'm free.
The thought repeated itself in my head.
I would go to another city, start again, build something for myself. One day, I would become powerful enough to return and face all of them.
Hunger twisted faintly in my stomach, and my throat felt dry, but none of that mattered.
I leaned back against the leather seat, letting a small smile form on my lips as the reality of freedom—however fragile—began to sink in.
That was when I noticed the phone lying on the seat beside me.
I stared at it, confused with the red tag attached to it and 'Pick' written on it.
And then, suddenly, it began to ring.