Chapter 12 - The Silk Robe|
Three days passed.
I lived in a gold-and-glass cage.
I didn't leave the third floor. Irina brought me meals, beautiful clothes, books, and fresh flowers every morning. Anton stood outside my door twenty-four hours a day like an impenetrable iron wall.
Dimitri didn't return to the estate.
Every night, I sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the dark waves crash against the rocks below, holding the black iPhone in my lap, waiting for a call that never came.
I hated how much I looked for him.
I hated that my pulse spiked every time I heard tires on the gravel driveway below. He was a dangerous, lethal man who ran a crime syndicate—a man who lived in a world of blood and terror.
And yet, every time I closed my eyes, all I could feel was the warmth of his hand on the back of my neck in the dark room, telling me I wasn't just a waitress.
On the fourth night, at two in the morning, the heavy oak door of my suite clicked open.
I woke up instantly, sitting up in the large silk bed, clutching the duvet against my chest.
Dimitri stepped into the room.
He looked exhausted. His dark hair was slightly messy, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his dark jacket draped over his arm.
He stopped in the doorway, staring at me under the dim glow of the fireplace embers.
"You're awake," he murmured raspy.
"I can't sleep in this place," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Dimitri walked slowly across the plush rug, stopping at the edge of the bed. He smelled of rain, cold wind, and that dark, intoxicating bergamot cologne.
"Are they treating you well?" he asked softly.
"They're treating me like a princess in a tower," I replied, lifting my chin. "When do I get to go home, Dimitri?"
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Dimitri looked down at me, his gray eyes dark and unreadable.
"You don't," he whispered.
