A war rages inside me. One that tells me she’s mine, and another that warns me to be careful of hurting her. I’ve never had any sort of empathy for anyone before. Doing bad things comes naturally. The darkness that resides within me is something I’ve embraced and come to love.
Remorse is a foreign emotion, and I push it back, locking it in the depths of my mind, as I lift Micaela in my arms and carry her through the back of the house.
“Please, just take me back to my apartment.”
“You’ll stay here. If your father knew I let you go home alone while you’re like this, I’d pay for it, and I don’t particularly want my balls cut off.” I take her straight to my room, which is where she’ll sleep tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll figure this shit out because I’ve promised McCray his daughter will be mine, and deep down, I’ve promised it to myself as well.
I set Micaela on the bed, her red hair and porcelain skin a stark contrast to my black sheets and pillows. Stepping back, I attempt to swallow back the desire that’s taken hold of me as she scoots against the dark wood headboard.
“The bathroom is through there,” I tell her, pointing to the door behind me. “If you need anything, just hit the button beside the door. One of the staff will come up and see what you want.”
“Where are you going?”
“Next door, to the library. It’s one of my sanctuaries in this godforsaken place. I don’t want you running off into the garden. Do you understand me?”
For a moment, I’m sure she’s going to argue, but instead, she nods. Her mouth purses, her lips plump, making me hungry to devour her again, but I fight back the craving I have for her.
“Goodnight.” I turn and head to the door before she can say anything more. I need a fucking drink before I get some sleep. Perhaps even a bottle of something strong. Because the girl who’s currently in my bed is affecting me with her presence, and I don’t like it.
12
Micaela
Does he really think I’m going to sleep when I’m in his bedroom?
Glancing around, I take in the dark room. The walls are black, along with the four poster California King I’m currently sitting on. The sheets and comforter along with the pillows are all the color of raven feathers and just as shiny. The satin material feels cool against my skin that feels like I’m burning up.
A low cabinet with three drawers sits opposite the bed with a large mirror that shows my reflection. I look so small on the enormous bed. The wine-red carpets are soft underfoot when I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and stand.
To the left of the bed, I pad toward the windows overlooking the garden, which is slowly emptying as people move indoors. The decorations are visible from up here. Thick metal bars are welded into the wall, covering the glass panes, so there’s no way of climbing out to escape. Even if they weren’t there, being on the second floor makes it far too high to jump.
I’m about to step away from the windows when I see Creed out in the garden talking to a woman. She’s also got red hair, but they don’t seem friendly at all. I don’t know who she is. I didn’t notice her when we arrived at the party, but she’s not wearing a mask, only a bright red dress that matches her long hair.
Jealousy courses through me, shocking me back from the metal bars. I can’t be jealous of her. He’s not mine. And I’m certainly not his either.
Even though Dad wants me with Creed, I just don’t know how it’s going to work. When I was younger and thought about getting married one day, I didn’t think it would be arranged by my father. And I definitely didn’t envision marrying a psychopath. Because that’s precisely what Creed is.
A knock at the door startles me, and as it whooshes open, I’m met with a woman who looks like she’s possibly their stepmother. She’s an older woman, but she’s beautiful.
“Hi,” she says. “I’m Mallory. I brought you a change of clothes. Creed said you weren’t feeling well, and I figured if you wanted to have a hot shower, you’d most likely want to get changed.”
“Thank you.”
She smiles, nods, and sets the clothes on the large wooden chest sitting at the foot end of the bed. “I know Creed is a lot to handle,” she tells me. “But he does have a good heart. It’s just buried under years of pain.”
“It’s . . . it’s not that,” I tell her honestly. “I’m angry at my father. He’s forcing me to be here, to fall in love with Creed.”
“Nobody can make you fall in love with someone,” Mallory tells me with a small smile. “That’s your heart, your mind. Trust me when I tell you, there are times you love someone and believe they’re meant for you, but they’re not.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
She nods slowly. “Long ago, I fell in love with a man who wasn’t really mine to have. I did something stupid and ended up hurting a lot of people. Love comes to you when you least expect it. And, at times, it even comes when you believe you’ll never love anyone.”
“Creed locked me in a cage tonight. He toyed with my emotions, with me as a person.” I don’t know why I’m telling her all this, but the words just tumble free.
“Creed has a strange sense of humor. He has a very troubled way of dealing with his feelings, and sometimes, his social norms aren’t the same as ours.”
“I’m just not used to all this. I grew up around
