I cannot begin to know what women these days are interested in wearing so I will leave that up to you, my darling wife. The contents in the drawer below should cover the cost.
Running the tip of her finger across the linen weaved cardstock, she traced its tightly curving letters. It reminded her of ancient handwritten tomes. Even the blotches of ink peppered around the text made her wonder if the djinn had conjured up a small bottle of ink and a quill to write this. Setting the card back down, Nadira obliged with the demon's instructions and opened the drawer beneath.
Coughing, Nadira stumbled backward. "Holy shit," she gasped.
Piled to the level of the drawer, thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills lined the drawer from front to back. Where in the world did he get all of this? Did he conjure it up from nowhere? Closing the drawer carefully, Nadira unzipped her suitcase and took out a pair of lounge shorts and a plain white top. Her clothes looked worn and cheap in comparison to the immaculate house around her, but she told herself not to focus on that.
Downstairs, Nadira made it an effort to not just stand around and gape at the long kitchen that sat horizontally from the living area. Opening a wide drawer on the long kitchen counter, she found a skillet, some seasonings in another drawer, and in the fridge enough groceries to feed a small army. Taking out the ingredients for an omelet and a handful of strawberries as well as a glass of apple juice, Nadira took her prepared meal to the table near the kitchen windows.
Quietly, she forked the food into her mouth. It was quiet, like really really quiet. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and before she could stop it, Nadira realized she was full-blown smiling. When was the last time she experienced a quiet meal like this that didn't consist of a granola bar in her car? A memory of her eating stolen leftovers in her grandmother's house sprang to mind. That was when she found the necklace, how all of this started in the first place.
Setting down her fork on her now empty plate, she leaned back against the back of the wood and metal designer chair and glanced outside across the shimmering pool and blue sky. Where was that horned devil now, she wondered? Was he around the world right now holding some other young woman hostage? Toying with her sexually? Nadira frowned at the lance of pain she felt in her chest at that thought. Annoyed with herself, she stood up, taking her dishes to the sink and washed them.
The rest of the day, she explored the house locating the garage, a gym, more spare bedrooms and baths, and lastly, the library located on the first floor on the other side of the turret that separated the two sections of the house. With matching high ceilings, the library was designed in the same modern, but industrial feel the kitchen had. With a wrap-around sectional that lined all four walls, only stopping at the door of the library, the huge sectional made the room look so comfy. Looking up, Nadira just smiled at the simple beauty of the black, metal catwalk lining the upper level of the room. Taking the metal staircase up to the catwalk, she slowly scanned the hundreds of books lining the walls. From world history to ancient poem collections, the assortment of books was so diverse and so curated she wondered how Idrak could have taken the time to collect so many so fast. Or were they the books of the previous owner?
Shaking her head at the thought, Nadira pulled a few books from the wall and made her way down to the fluffy tan sofas below. How could he pick such a perfect house and a perfect book collection as well, that couldn't be a coincidence? But that didn’t answer the questions on how the demon could have stocked the fridge, bought her a tub's worth of expensive toiletries, and stocked the library with a near-perfect book collection.
Getting comfortable against the sofa's cushion, she made a mental note to ask the djinn as she opened her book.
***
Opening her eyes, Nadira blinked before letting out a frustrated groan. Sitting up in bed, she glared angrily out the sunny windows before accusingly down at the spot to her left. He did it again!
Last night she had waited for him all night to show up. Every hour she would call out the djinn's name or run to the front of the house or up the stairs to the bedroom, checking on his presence only to find absolutely nothing. Eating dinner alone, which consisted of fish and a salad, she had stayed up in the library with a cup of coffee determined to speak to the demon if he ever came back. Sadly, her body could not hold out. Falling asleep on the couch surrounded by an assortment of books, she did not awake again until much later that night when she felt the familiar heat surrounding her. Lifting her tired body from the couch, the towering djinn had carried her out of the library and up to the bedroom.
She had tried speaking, she wanted to yell at him, to ask him questions that had built up throughout the day, but the smooth hot skin of his muscular bare chest worked against her. Turning her face further into his chest, she remembered wrapping her arms around his neck, holding him tighter. And just like the night before, he had touched her, bringing her pleasure while denying himself the same. He had whispered things in her ear as his fingers stroked between her legs, things that made her want to cry. Now, as she sat awake and fully lucid in the light of day the memories of his words telling her how beautiful she was only made her angry. If she was so beautiful then why couldn't he ever stay until she woke up?! Where did the stupid demon have to be, anyways?
"Probably off having sex with some other captive," she muttered, answering herself.
The thought made her so mad she nearly threw her pillow across the room.
"Well, that is it, do you hear me?" she yelled at no one, hoping the djinn could hear her. "I am not staying around here any longer."
Stomping to the beautiful bathroom that would forever haunt her dreams, she showered and dressed. Ignoring the drawer of money in the closet, she grabbed her suitcases and left the room. Downstairs she stopped in the foyer and glared at the imposing rod-iron and glass door. Leaving her suitcases where they stood, she went to the door and pulled the handle. It wouldn't budge.
"Damn you, Idrak," she growled. Striding past her suitcases, she turned to go down the hall to the three-car garage. "I will find a way out," she yelled. "Even if I have to smash a window to do so."
Opening the door to the garage, she was just as disappointed to find that the garage door buttons would not respond to her pressing them. For the next half hour, she went from room to room, trying every ground-floor window she could find, and not one of them worked. By now she was beyond livid, he couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t just trap her in a house and come see her and toy with her as he pleased like some twisted tale of Psyche and Cupid.
Eyeing one of the dining room chairs as her backup plan to throw through a window, Nadira stepped out into the backyard as one last attempt for a reasonable escape. Outside, she paused. The gate to the side of the house was most likely locked, but if she could drag a chair and climb over it, maybe that would work. Grabbing the outside chair closest to her, Nadira paused with a muttered curse. She forgot about the ten-foot gate at the end of the hill, there was no way she could get over that with a chair.