Chapter 9 - Preparation.

L A N A

“That’s a lovely dress… Vera Wang?” Her voice is smooth, her politeness seeming genuine. 

“Y-yes…” I manage to stutter, my voice hoarse, my throat still raw from crying.

She glances back briefly, eyes cool and assessing. “There’s a ring on your finger.”

I look down automatically, staring at the diamond that still sits there, mocking me, glinting under the gold lighting like it’s proud to be part of my humiliation. I should’ve taken it off hours ago. Maybe I should’ve thrown it at Tyler’s face.

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m engaged… well… I was engaged.”

“What happened?” she asks, as if she’s asking about the weather.

“My fiancé was cheating on me with my best friend.” I answer her. 

“Ah.” She nods once, unimpressed. “That’s unfortunate.”

I blink, staring at her in disbelief. “You sound like you don’t really care.”

Her lips twitch slightly, not quite a smile, more like the shadow of one. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Of course, even the people who work for him are cold-hearted...

The hallway opens into a large bedroom that looks like it was pulled out of a royal film set. The mirrors have gold frames around them, just like the ones in the living room and cream drapes spill to the floor. The room is filled with soft amber light, and the bed alone could fit 5 of me, layered with silk sheets so perfect it feels wrong that I’m even standing near them.

Once we're inside, the men holding onto me finally let go and leave the room, just as Fernanda turns to face me.

“The bathroom is through that door. Everything you need is in there. You have exactly fifteen minutes. After that, someone will come for your hair and makeup.” She explains, and I just stand there, frozen.

She tilts her head slightly, her voice still calm but laced with warning. “Don’t try to leave this room. There are guards posted outside. And don’t bother trying to escape either. The windows are tempered and bulletproof.”

Her tone doesn’t change, not even slightly, but I can feel the threat behind every word. Then she turns and walks out, her heels fading into the hallway, the click of the door lock echoing softly behind her.

I stare at the door for a few seconds longer before sighing to myself, a heavy sound that comes from somewhere deep in my chest. I turn slowly, letting my eyes sweep over the room.

It’s beautiful... painfully beautiful. There's a faint scent of jasmine and expensive perfume hanging in the air, art on the walls – Renaissance paintings, maybe originals, who knows – and a tray of crystal decanters sitting on a dresser near the bed.

It’s a prison disguised as a palace.

Despite the lavishness, there’s a chill here, one that crawls under my skin. I can feel Ezio’s presence even when he’s not here... his shadow, his authority, the weight of what he’s done. I press my arms around myself, trying to hold onto whatever piece of sanity I have left.

I think about running. About finding a way out. But Fernanda’s voice repeats in my head: Don’t bother. Guards outside. Bulletproof windows.

I look toward the curtains anyway, half hoping she’s lying. When I pull one back, I see exactly what she meant. The glass looks thick, glossy, flawless. Beyond it,  a wide courtyard, a dark garden, men in suits walking their rounds like clockwork.

My stomach sinks. There’s no way out.

So instead, I do the only thing left to do, I go to the bathroom and decide to get cleaned up.

The bathroom is huge, almost bigger than my entire apartment back home. Cream marble, a sunken tub, gold fixtures and a rainfall shower that looks like it was designed for royalty. There's even a tray waiting for me, filled with fluffly towels, a silk robe and bottles so elegant they look like art. 

I don't even know where to start. 

I catch my reflection in the mirror and almost flinch. My makeup is not completely ruined, my mascara smudged into black creases beneath my eyes. My lips are cracked, and my hair, which was perfectly styled for my engagement party a few hours ago, is now completely ruined. 

I don't look like me anymore... instead, I look like someone who lost everything in a single night.

I sigh to myself and decide there is no point in wallowing in despair. And so, I turn and make my way to the shower and turn on the water. The first touch of it makes me gasp before eventually I allow the warmth to cool my tense muscles. I let the burning water run down my skin, washing away the remnants of make-up, the smell of fear and the faint traces of Ezio's cologne still clinging to my dress. But no matter how long I stand here, I can't wash away the image of him. The way he looked at me... so calm, curious, yet dangerous. The way he looked at me, the way he said my name...

"You're mine now..." His voice suddenly replays in my head, haunting and possessive and making me shudder despite the hot water running along my skin.

I shake away the thought of him and try to focus on finishing my shower. Fifteen minutes pass faster than I realise, and by the time I step out, the shower feels cold against my wet skin. I dry myself thoroughly before wrapping the robe around my damp skin, drying off my hair with a towel.

I push open the bathroom door, expecting to have a bit of privacy while I get dressed, but I am sadly mistaken. I freeze at the bathroom door just as I come face to face with a full team of women standing and waiting for me. They appear to be stylists, makeup artists, hairdressers... an army of professionals staring back at me as if I am a project laid out on the table. Suddenly, I feel too self-conscious, and instantly wrap my arms around myself as I step further into the room.