VALERIA'S POV
"You are kidnapping me and driving like you want to kill us both. What about your wound, you maniac?"
I was pressed against the car door, my heart hammering. God, please don't let it end like this. Not with this madman.
I was painfully aware of the way his bare shoulder twitched every time he shifted gears, and even more aware of the heat radiating off his skin.
"If I wanted you dead, Valeria, I would have let Marcus have his way," Alaric said, one white-knuckled hand gripped the steering wheel while the other rested on the center console, inches from my knee.
The elevator opened directly into a glass-walled penthouse. It was huge and hauntingly empty.
No pictures, no clutter, just a couch and a TV. It looked less like a home and more like a man with too much money and nowhere to put his ghosts.
Alaric tossed his keys onto the marble counter.
"Nice cage. Does it come with a leash?" I asked, looking around. "Am I even allowed to wear clothes in this place?"
"You will stay in the guest wing," Alaric said, ignoring my question. "Don't attempt to leave. My security has orders to stop you by any means possible."
"By any means? You're a real romantic, boss."
I was starving, so I headed toward the kitchen, my internal compass guiding me. My father used to call me an antenna because I never got lost. I opened the fridge and found it stocked, but one thing caught my eye – ice cream and chocolates.
I didn't peg him as an ice cream man. I wondered if his fian-stay knew about this place. Most of all, I wondered why the hell I wasn't scared.
Alaric entered the kitchen. The bandages on his side were barely holding. He drank water from a crystal glass, his throat bobbing as he watched me like a hawk.
"Now tell me the truth. Why the hell were you sniffing around Marcus's study?"
"I told you. I got lost looking for a private place to get some air."
"Don't give me that bullshit again."
"I was just curious to see where the great Marcus Sterling sleeps. Is that a crime?" I backed up as he approached.
"It is when I clearly told you to stay off. Are you working for Julian?" Alaric slammed his hand against the wall beside my head, pinning me.
I shoved his chest hard and let the tears come, angry and jagged.
"I'm working for myself! I'm trying to survive in a world where people like you and Marcus exist!"
"Can you calm down?"
"Calm down? You told that plastic doll I meant nothing to you!"
"I couldn't tell her the truth," Alaric rasped, his voice dropping. "That I don't know why I yearn for you and your dirty mouth."
"You can try to wipe it clean."
The air snapped between us. Alaric's grip on my wrist loosened, his fingers sliding up my neck. I should stop this, but my lungs felt tight and my skin burned.
He crashed his lips onto mine. It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, rough, and tasted like suppressed rage.
He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pinned me against the glass window overlooking the city.
"You're going to be the death of me, Valeria," Alaric breathed.
You don't know how close to the truth you are.
"Don't stop," I whispered. "But be careful of your bandage."
He tasted like a lie I wanted to believe. If I did this, I was betraying my father and the mission. But his lips dragged me under. My hands dug into his trousers, reaching for his belt. Alaric unhooked my bra, his hands heavy and sure.
Then, i pulled back, not from shyness, but because I was going too far with the enemy. I looked at my fingers. They were stained red. His wound had opened during the kiss. It was a cold reminder of what he was.
"You're bleeding out, Alaric. Do you want to die on top of me?"
"You're beautiful."
"Well, you're delirious. Sit on the marble. Let me check it."
I patched him up in silence. The air stayed thick with what just happened.
"I didn't take you for the ice cream kind of guy," I said, heading back to the fridge.
"I'm not. Just got it."
I turned toward the guest room. I needed to search this place for the ledger.
"Don't get it twisted, little surgeon," Alaric called. "The kiss was a distraction. You're still my prisoner."
I didn't answer. I turned on my heels, my heart hammering with the memory of his lips.
Inside the guest room, I locked the door and pulled the burner phone from my bag.
[Message Received: No ID]
Time is ticking. Get the evidence that clears your father, unless you want to be the daughter of a fraud forever. PS: Don't fall in love with him.
The next morning, I woke up with nothing to wear but last night's clothes. Since I couldn't leave, I put on one of Alaric's oversized white shirts. It reached mid-thigh and smelled faintly of his expensive cologne.
I walked into the kitchen and found Alaric on a video call.
"Yes, Seraphina. I'll be there," he said.
Are you kidding me? We almost had sex last night, and he's already talking to her.
I ignored him and reached for the coffee machine. My legs were bare, and I knew he was watching. The silence pressed in.
"Did you sleep well?" Alaric asked, ending the call.
"Splendidly. Except for the part where I'm a hostage." I turned, the mug hot in my hands. "Who was that? Your bride-to-be checking her property?"
Alaric's eyes darkened as they dragged down my legs. "Seraphina is where she is supposed to be. You're here."
"Does she know you have a prisoner wearing your clothes?" I took a sip, holding his gaze. "And eating her favorite ice cream?"
Alaric stepped closer, his presence heavy. "You need to remember why you're here. Don't mistake a moment of weakness for a change in status."
"Don't worry, Alaric," I whispered, stepping past him. "I haven't forgotten anything.