He shakes his head, takes my left hand and pulls me up to stand instead. He slides the ring on my finger like we’re a real couple. Like he’s my boyfriend and he just proposed, and I said yes, and I’m over the fucking moon.
“Perfect fit,” he says.
I look at the ring on my finger. I’m not naïve enough to think this is in any way romantic. Cristiano may be a better man than Marcus, but he’s still using me. And I have to keep my eyes on my goal. Get Noah and myself out alive.
“It’s worth a lot of money,” he says. “And it’s yours as long as you do as you promise by accepting it. Just remember one thing,” he starts, intertwining our fingers on both of my hands, before drawing them behind my back to hold them in one of his. He squeezes my wrists and tilts my face up by the chin. “We’ve both made a promise now, you and me. I’m trusting you. You’re trusting me. If you betray me, you will make me your enemy. Do you understand that?”
A shudder runs through me.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me as long as you don’t betray me, Scarlett.”
“I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.”
“Hm.” He heard my lie but he’s distracted. I realize why a moment later when he releases me to take his phone out of his pocket. It must be a text because he doesn’t put it to his ear but swipes the screen instead. Whatever he sees makes his eyes narrow, his jaw tense.
“What is it?” I ask.
He types something, the line between his eyebrows growing deeper as he does, then returns his gaze to me as he pockets the phone.
I swallow, his electric blue eyes too intense, too intent on me.
“Do you understand me, Scarlett?” he asks, picking up our conversation like we weren’t just interrupted.
I nod.
Because if there’s one thing I understand clearly, it’s that I do not want to make an enemy of this man.
24
Scarlett
He left me to eat alone after that strange proposal—can you call that a proposal? It surprised me and although Lenore took a tray into his study, I saw her return with it untouched before I went upstairs.
I look at my ring now as I sit on the little Princess bed. It’s pretty, the edges of the sapphires jagged and sharp like shards of glass. I like it. It fits. But the thought of marrying him makes my belly go funny. And it’s not exactly a queasy feeling.
Getting up, I pace the room for the hundredth time. I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, although it’s well past two in the morning. He hasn’t come up either but for all I know he’s not even on the island anymore. I heard a boat go out a few hours ago. Maybe he went back to the mainland.
I open my door quietly. Still no guard outside. There’s a lock on the outside but he hasn’t used it. Yet.
I’m wearing a pair of sweats and an oversized hoodie, along with a pair of ballerina slippers. I added these and a few others like it to the order at the last shop. No way Cristiano would have approved of such a slovenly outfit considering the other pieces he chose for me but I love it.
The soft-soled slip-on shoes are exactly what I need. Quiet.
I put the little plastic flashlight I found in the bedroom into my pocket and make my way toward the stairs. The lights are out apart from a glow that comes from the dining room. Moonlight. I watched its reflection on the water through the huge windows earlier. It was better than watching TV as I ate dinner alone.
Taking hold of the railing, I make my way down the stairs, grateful for the stone. Wood would creak.
Once I’m on the first-floor landing, I look around, making sure I am truly alone. I tiptoe toward the door that leads to the cells below ground.
Strange to think that it was just a few days ago that I was down there. That I watched my brothers’ brains blown out.
Poor Noah is still down there all alone. He must be scared. At least after tomorrow he’ll be allowed to come above ground.
A soft sound captures my attention before I get to that dark hallway though. It’s coming from Cristiano’s study at the end of the corridor.
I take a few steps toward the sound. It sounds like a light buzzing. Like a humming. From beneath his closed door, I see the light on inside. So he’s on the island after all. I wonder who took the boat earlier.
I stop then, considering. Would he hear me if I went to Noah’s cell? And can I make it back upstairs before he goes to bed? I assume he’ll check to make sure I’m in my bed. Would he consider my going to see my imprisoned brother a betrayal?
Shaking my head, I turn back to my original destination.
I agreed. He can give me this. I’m going to say ‘I do’ no matter what. Plus, Noah is probably still worried about me considering I saw him for all of two seconds the night of the attack and I was covered in blood. Again.
When I get to the corridor, I fumble with the button to switch on the flashlight I dig out of my pocket. I need to give it a good shake, but it blinks twice before casting a dim glow onto my path.
No guards inside. At least not here. I know he’s doubled the men outside and on the roof. This house is a fortress.
When I reach the door, I’m grateful to find it unlocked. I hadn’t even thought of that. It’s the only thing that makes a sound when I open it, whining as I pull it only as far as I need to.
I shine my light on the stairs, but the moment I close the door the flashlight fails altogether, plunging me into utter darkness. A black so complete, it’s terrifying. Like being swallowed up by a black hole. Like being the only person left on earth.
Panic has me shaking the flashlight so violently that the little plastic door that keeps the battery in place flies off, sending the battery with it. It makes such a racket as it seems to bounce on every step, that I stand there frozen, holding my breath. I’m sure Cristiano’s heard me, maybe Noah did too. He must have.
When the sound stops, I listen but all is silent. I give it one more minute and I try to feel my way down one, two, three steps. But they’re too uneven and I’m going to fall and break my neck. I need a flashlight.
Lenore had one in the kitchen. A good one.
I turn back, creep back up the stairs and reach to open the door. I wince at the whine. He wouldn’t hear it from the study. He’s too far and it’s not like a door slamming.
I walk back to the main part of the house and glance down the hall to Cristiano’s study. The light is still on, although the sound of the buzzing has stopped. Hurrying, I cross both living and dining rooms to the kitchen and breathe a sigh of relief when I’m inside. Cerberus, laying on his bed in the corner, lifts his head. He wags his tail which thuds against the floor.
“Shh,” I tell him with my finger over my lips, but he’s excited and probably lonely sleeping in here. I sneak over to him, pet him while imploring him to stay quiet. He licks my face and nuzzles against my ear. It’s the sweetest thing. I’m tempted to just curl up with him, but I don’t.
Once he’s settled, I get up and walk to the drawer where I saw the flashlight. I consider taking one of the sharp knives but decide against it. I have nowhere to keep it and I remember clearly what Cristiano did when he found a simple nail file on me.
Holding the flashlight, I test it. It works and I smile. Petting Cerberus one more time before pushing through the swinging door of the kitchen, feeling a little more self-assured.