9: AMAYA’S POV

Regina Valak didn’t move like any other person that I had come across in all my time here.

She moved the same way that her brother did; like she owned the air she breathed, and for a second, I felt a sharp pang of envy so strong it made my stomach ache.

She was free.

She was the definition of what I wanted to be, of what I should have been.

Instead I was traded from dangerous man to the next.

Regina stood in the center of my new, gilded cage, her red hair looking like a splash of blood against the cream-colored walls.

Her smile stayed fixed on her face.

It was wide, bright, and entirely too much for a room that had rested within the walls of a mansion so utterly depressing.

"You’re quieter than I expected," Regina said.

She didn't take her eyes off me as she walked over to the velvet armchair near the balcony and dropped into it, crossing one long, silk-clad leg over the other.

"Bane said you were a beautiful young lady but I must say he was greatly under exaggerating”

I stayed standing. My hands were still knotted together at my waist, my knuckles white.

"I appreciate the compliment. Thank you”

Regina tilted her head.

Her eyes were sharp, scanning me with an unnerving level of perception.

"You’re hate it here don’t you, Amaya? You despise my brother too on some level. I’d be shocked if you didn’t”

I didn't answer.

I didn't know how to tell her that being alive now felt like a chore.

That every breath I took felt like I was stealing it from this evil man who had already decided I was his property.

I didn’t know how to tell her that if I had the chance I would kill her brother and then I would kill her for being what I could not.

"Look," Regina said, her voice softening.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"I know how you ended up here, Amaya. I know about your father. I know about the wedding night. And I know about the cell."

I winced. Hearing her say it out loud made it feel realer, dirtier.

"I'm sorry," she said, and for the first time, the smile vanished.

Her expression turned solemn, almost grieving.

"I’m truly sorry you had to get caught in the crossfire of a stupid cartel war. Men like my brother and Raul... they play for keeps, and they don't care who gets stepped on while they’re moving their pieces. You were just a casualty of a territory dispute that had nothing to do with you."

The room was still silent.

I still had nothing to say to this woman. I could only look down at the Persian rug, tracing the intricate patterns with my eyes.

What was I supposed to say to that?

“Oh, thank you for acknowledging I’m a victim? Thank you for the apology on behalf of the man who currently holds the keys to my life?!!”

The words felt stuck in my throat, dry and useless.

I wanted to believe her.

I wanted to reach out to that warmth because it was the only thing in this house that didn't feel like ice.

But then I remembered the guards.

I remembered the rules. I remembered the way Bane had turned me into his little property.

I remembered he was HER BROTHER and I said nothing.

I don’t think I even wanted to look at her in that moment.

"You don't have to say anything," Regina said, sensing the wall I was building.

She stood up, the movement fluid and effortless.

"I wouldn't trust me either if I were you. In this house, trust is a luxury we usually can't afford."

She walked toward the door, then stopped, looking back over her shoulder.

"Bane’s rules are... specific," she said, a small, mischievous smirk returning to her lips.

"He’s not a jailer in the way you think. You’re free to roam the estate grounds, Amaya. As long as you stay inside the walls, the guards won't touch you. Go outside. Get some sun on that pale skin of yours before you start looking like one of the ghosts in the hallway."

I blinked.

"I can go outside?"

"Within the walls," she clarified. "Think of it as a very large, very beautiful yard. I spend most of my time in the conservatory or the gym. I hope to run into you soon. Maybe we can find something to talk about that isn't my brother’s brooding."

She winked at me.

"See you around, Amaya," she said.

Then, she was gone. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone in the silence.

I stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where she had been.

I walked over to the balcony doors and pushed them open.

The Roman air was warm, smelling of ancient stone and blooming jasmine.

Below me, the gardens stretched out in a sea of green and floral colors.

I saw the guards, their black suits stark against the flowers.

Regina was warm.

She was welcoming.

She was the first person who had looked at me like a human being instead of a contract or a conquest.

That was something nice that I could try to get used to.

But as I watched her red hair disappear around the corner of the stone path below, I felt a familiar shiver.

She was a Valak.

She had the same blood as the man who had stolen me.

I wanted to believe she was a friend. I wanted it so badly it hurt.

But as I gripped the cold marble of the balcony railing, I knew I couldn't afford to be naive.

I was in the lion’s den, and even if one of the lions was offering me a smile, I was still the prey.