Shopping spree

RAPHAEL

My feet slapped against the cool marble as I bolted down the hallway, my heart slamming hard enough to drown out everything else. Kane came flying down from the upper landing at the same moment. 

We collided, found our footing, and kept running. Heavy footsteps thundered up the main staircase behind us. Security. They must have heard her the same instant we did.

I shoved the door open.

Alina sat rigid in the centre of the wide bed, both hands locked around the slender metal rod of the bedside lamp. She held it out like a spear, pointing it straight at the heavy curtains that framed the open balcony.

“Stay back,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “It’s there.”

I crossed the room in three strides and yanked the curtain aside.

Familiar glittering scales caught the morning light. A long body, thicker than I remembered, was coiled half behind the heavy fabric, head lifted in clear alarm. The snake froze the second the light hit it.

Recognition flooded through me so fast that my knees almost loosened with relief.

I turned to Kane, still breathing hard. “Isn’t this the same one that used to visit the lower gardens? The one that stopped coming around six months ago?”

Kane’s eyes widened. “Pio. Goddess, look at the size of him.”

I reached down carefully, slid both hands beneath the warm, muscular length, and lifted. The snake gave a single, startled loop around my forearm before settling and flicking his tongue. My heartbeat finally began to slow. She was safe. Nothing had touched her.

I turned back to Alina, keeping my voice low. “It’s all right. He’s not venomous. He’s a large rat snake, and completely harmless. Kane named him Pio years ago when he started sunning himself on the garden walls. We used to leave a shallow dish of water out for him in the summer. He vanished for months. I thought he’d moved on or been taken by something larger. He must have come in through the open balcony last night looking for somewhere warm," I rambled on. 

Alina’s grip on the lamp rod loosened a fraction, but she still didn’t climb down from the bed. Her warm brown eyes darted past my shoulder. I followed her gaze and realised nearly half a dozen security men had filled the doorway and hallway beyond.

Colour flooded her cheeks. She lowered the lamp and set it carefully back on the nightstand.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to disturb the entire house. I just woke up, saw something moving, and I… I'm sorry.”

The men began filing out at Kane’s quiet gesture. I waited until the last of them disappeared down the corridor before I let a soft chuckle escape.

“No need to apologise. Pio has never actually come inside the house before. He must have felt especially welcomed in your room.”

She sighed. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have screamed like that. I’ll be more careful. I won’t—”

“Alina.” I kept my tone gentle but firm enough to cut through her spiral. “Stop. You did nothing wrong. You woke up to something unexpected in a new place. Anyone would have reacted. That’s the end of it.”

She pressed her lips together and gave a tiny nod, still looking mortified.

I shifted Pio a little higher on my arm so she could see he was calm. “We’re going shopping later today whenever you feel ready. Take your time. The maids are here for whatever you need. Call any of them if you want breakfast brought up, or a bath drawn, or simply someone to open the curtains. They’re under instructions to make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.”

Her head snapped up. “Maids?”

The pure astonishment in her voice made the corner of my mouth lift. “Maids,” I confirmed. “And they will be happy to help. Rest a little more if you like. Come down when you’re ready.”

I left her with that and carried Pio carefully out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind me. Kane took the snake from my hands with a murmured promise to return him to the far garden wall where he belonged.

Roman was exactly where I had left him, still in the armchair, though he stood the moment I walked back into my room.

“What the hell was that?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “A snake. Our garden visitor, Pio. He somehow found his way onto her balcony and under the curtain. She’s fine. Startled, embarrassed, but fine.”

Roman’s expression shifted from alarm to a small smile. “I had no idea you people had a snake named Pio.”

I shrugged. “He came here on his own. Kane liked him, so he stayed.”

I plopped on the bed. “I want to take her out today. We'll visit a dermatologist first, then get clothes. There are burns on her face, and there are older marks, too.” I met his eyes. “That night at the hotel, I saw bruises on her knees and inner thighs.”

Roman’s jaw flexed. “I noticed something that night as well. Couldn’t place it at the time. Just thought… damn.”

I stripped off the sleep shirt and headed for the bathroom. “Avoid the third floor for now. Give her space.”

He made a disgusted sound behind me. “I’ve become a fucking housewife. Peeking around corners and waiting for permission to breathe in my home.”

I didn’t answer.

 The hot water of the shower washed away the last of the adrenaline. When I came out dressed in a dark button-down and trousers, Roman was still grumbling under his breath. I left him to it and went downstairs.

The scent of coffee and fresh bread met me in the dining room. Alina was already there, standing beside the long table with both hands locked around a porcelain plate while the head cook, Martha, looked equal parts terrified and determined.

“No, it’s okay,” Alina was saying. “I can do it. I don’t need—”

“Alina.”

She turned at the sound of my voice. I crossed to her, gently pried the plate from her fingers, and set it back on the table.

“Sit,” I whispered. “Let them do their work. That’s what they’re here for.”

I guided her into the chair with light pressure at her elbow and took the seat across from her. Breakfast was quiet after that. She ate carefully and kept her eyes down, as if still waiting for the moment the calm would break.

Afterwards, Kane brought the car around. The private clinic I preferred was only twenty minutes from the estate. The dermatologist, a calm beta woman with kind eyes, examined the burns on Alina’s face and neck. She also checked the older marks on her knees and the fading bruises higher on her thighs when Alina reluctantly allowed it. 

She prescribed a cooling regenerative cream, demonstrated the exact amount to apply twice a day, and added mild instructions about being “less clumsy around hot liquids and hard floors.” 

Alina only nodded, then followed me back to the car.

Then came the shops. I took her to three different boutiques that specialised in soft, high-quality pieces. Every time a price tag came into view, she inhaled sharply and tried to steer us toward the exit.

“We should leave,” she whispered more than once. “This is too much. I don’t need—”

“You need everything,” I answered each time. “Keep looking.”

It took real pressure before she finally began selecting pieces: soft jumpers in warm neutrals, jeans that actually fit her frame, simple dresses, sleep clothes that were not threadbare, and underthings.

I instructed the staff to pull additional sizes and colours in everything she touched. Kane loaded box after box into the boot.

When we returned to the estate, a small team of staff was already waiting at the rear entrance. They descended on the car the moment Kane parked, lifting boxes and garment bags and carrying them upstairs toward the east suite. 

Alina reached for one of the lighter bags, and a young footman gently, but firmly, brushed her hands away with a polite, “We’ve got it, miss.”

She stepped back, looking lost, then caught sight of two of the security men from the morning still posted near the side door. 

Her shoulders hunched. “I’m sorry about earlier,” she told them quietly. “I really am. I was just so terrified.”

They both inclined their heads with professional courtesy, but said nothing.

I stayed by the car and watched her walk into the house, her hair swaying against the soft new cardigan she had agreed to wear home. 

She was right where she belonged.