The woman’s sharp eyes swept over Amelia from head to toe. Her brows drew together slightly, a small furrow of disapproval that spoke volumes.
"She looks half dead. Is she ill? Malnourished? Did you find her in a ditch somewhere?"
Reid laughed, the sound light and easy, to make it less awkward. His hand pressed gently against Amelia’s back, a silent reminder to let him handle this.
"She’s just recovering from a strange illness," he said smoothly. "Fully recovered now. Surely Madame understands that these things take time. The body doesn’t always bounce back as quickly as we’d like."
Madame studied Amelia again, her gaze lingering on the fragile way she held herself.
"Your name?"
Amelia answered, keeping her voice steady even as her pulse fluttered in her throat like a trapped bird. "Amelia. Amelia Kroff."
She tried to keep her face calm, tried to hide the nervousness coiling tight in her stomach like a snake ready to strike. She could feel the weight of Madame’s scrutiny pressing down on her.
Madame’s gaze turned to Reid.
"You’d better plump her up quickly before the day of the ceremony. She looks like a strong wind could knock her over. That won’t do."
"That won’t be a problem," Reid replied without missing a beat. "I have the best chefs in the city on standby. She’ll be glowing by the time the ceremony arrives. You have my word."
Madame’s nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled. Her eyes narrowed.
"I don’t smell your scent on her."
"Did you want us to be intimate with her on her sick bed? I thought you’d prefer we wait until she was healthy enough to actually enjoy the experience. Show a little restraint, Madame. The ceremony hasn’t even happened yet."
A brief pause. Then Madame gave a small, accepting nod.
"That makes sense. I suppose I’ve been too hasty. Illness is a valid reason." She turned her full attention back to Amelia. "I’m watching you, Amelia. So you’d better watch your back. Do you understand?"
Amelia nodded, her throat too tight for words.
Madame held her gaze for a moment longer, then walked past them without another glance, her heels clicking against the floor as she continued down the hallway.
The moment she was gone, Amelia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her shoulders sagged, and she leaned slightly into Reid’s side without meaning to.
Reid kept his arm around her, guiding her forward. "You did well. She’s not easy to impress."
"I wasn’t trying to impress her," Amelia muttered. "I was trying not to pass out."
"Same thing."
They moved through corridors she didn’t recognize. The estate seemed endless, a labyrinth of wealth and power that stretched in every direction.
Finally, he stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. Inside was a spacious bedroom—soft lighting, rich fabrics in deep blues and grays, a large bed centered against the far wall.
He led her to the edge of the bed.
"Sit tight."
Then he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Amelia stared at the closed door, her mind blank for a long moment. Then frustration bubbled up.
"Sit tight?" she muttered, her voice rising. "Sit tight? I’m not a robot that just sits tight. I’m a person. A person with thoughts and feelings and—" She stood up abruptly, pacing a few steps across the room. "Is this how my life is going to be from now on? Always expecting the unexpected?"
She dragged a hand through her hair.
"These men are just... ugh. They don’t explain anything. And I’m supposed to—what? Be grateful?"
No freedom. No clear sense of what was happening or what came next. Everything shifted without warning, and she was expected to simply follow.
Is this what I signed up for? Is this really my life now?
The burst of frustration drained as quickly as it had come. Her shoulders slumped, and she sank back onto the edge of the bed, her energy suddenly gone.
In a tired voice, she murmured, "What should I do...?"
She looked around the room properly for the first time. It wasn’t the dull, devilish place she had imagined. No skulls on the walls. No weapons displayed like trophies. No dark, foreboding decor that screamed danger.
Amelia walked over to the window. Outside, the sky had already shifted into a soft purple as evening settled over the estate. The gardens stretched out below, manicured and serene, with paths that wound between hedges and flower beds. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the faint sound of water—a fountain, maybe, or a pond.
It’s beautiful. It’s all so beautiful. And I’m trapped inside it.
She brought her hands together in front of her chest, eyes lifting toward the fading light, toward the first stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky.
"Moon goddess..." She whispered "Please...pretty pleeaaaseeee.... Give me a way out. Let me start over. Let me go somewhere where none of this can reach me. Somewhere I can just... breathe."
Even as she said it, she knew it was only wishful thinking. The moon goddess had never answered her before. Not when everything fell apart and she was left with nothing but ashes.
There’s no one listening. There’s no one coming to save me.
The door opened behind her.
Amelia turned at once, her heart leaping into her throat.
The three of them walked in—Enzo, Reid, and Dean—filling the room with that same heavy, unmistakable presence that always made the air feel thinner.