Chapter 6: The Midnight Encounter

I can't sleep.

The plush mattress is comfortable, but the silence in this mansion is too loud. Every time I close my eyes, I see the flash of a muzzle. I hear static crackling through my earpiece. Then I feel the bullet all over again.

Waking up in Vivian's weak body is a nightmare I can't shake.

My throat feels like sandpaper.

I need water.

I slide out from under the heavy covers. My feet touch the cold hardwood floor, sending a shiver up my legs. I found an oversized white T-shirt in the closet earlier, and it hangs loosely over my body, stopping somewhere around my thighs.

I crack open the bedroom door.

The hallway is dark and silent.

Christian's door across the hall is firmly shut.

Good.

I slip out, moving quietly. Even in this untrained body, muscle memory is muscle memory. I know which floorboards creak and which ones don't.

I make my way down the grand staircase and into the kitchen.

The room is enormous, all black marble and stainless steel. Moonlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting silver lines across the floor.

I grab a glass and fill it from the refrigerator dispenser.

The first gulp of cold water almost makes me sigh.

Then—

"I told you I'm a light sleeper."

I freeze.

The glass nearly slips from my hand.

I spin around.

Christian is leaning against the kitchen island.

I didn't hear him walk in.

My assassin pride takes a serious hit.

He's wearing nothing but dark sweatpants, his hair messy from sleep. The moonlight cuts across his face and shoulders, revealing a jagged scar along his left ribcage.

My eyes linger for half a second too long.

I look away.

"I didn't hear you."

His mouth curves slightly.

"Apparently."

"Vance," I mutter, trying to sound annoyed instead of startled. "You scared me."

"Did I?"

He pushes away from the island and walks toward me.

"Because you didn't react like a scared girl."

He stops a few feet away.

"You reacted like someone preparing to attack."

My fingers tighten around the glass.

"I was thirsty."

I lift it slightly.

"People usually drink water when they're thirsty."

His eyes move from my face to the oversized shirt, then back again.

He's studying me.

Always studying me.

"You were told not to leave your room."

"I needed water."

"You could have called someone."

"I'm capable of getting water myself."

His jaw tightens.

"You seem very capable of breaking rules."

I raise an eyebrow.

"You locked me in a room."

"I was keeping you alive."

"You have a strange way of showing concern."

His eyes darken.

He steps closer.

Too close.

I can feel the warmth coming off him, and suddenly the kitchen feels much smaller.

"You don't know what concern looks like from me."

His voice is quieter now.

Dangerously quiet.

Before I can answer, he reaches for the glass.

His fingers brush mine.

He takes it from my hand and places it on the counter behind me without looking away.

"You're breaking my rules, Vivian."

"I didn't realize I had rules."

"You do now."

I almost laugh.

"What happens if I break them?"

His gaze holds mine.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how much trouble you cause."

I tilt my chin.

"Maybe I like trouble."

Something flickers in his eyes.

Then his expression hardens.

"Who are you?"

The question catches me off guard.

Not what happened to you?

Not why don't you remember?

Who are you?

His eyes search mine.

"The Vivian I knew was afraid of confrontation."

He pauses.

"You aren't."

I swallow.

"Maybe the old Vivian is dead."

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Christian goes still.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

Then his hand lifts.

His knuckles brush lightly against my jaw.

The touch is brief.

Testing.

His eyes never leave mine.

"That's exactly what I'm beginning to think."

My pulse jumps.

Not from fear.

Something worse.

He suspects me.

Before I can respond, a sharp chime echoes through the mansion.

Christian's hand drops immediately.

His entire expression changes.

The warmth disappears.

The man in front of me becomes the billionaire I saw at the hospital—the calculating one who notices everything.

Another alarm sounds.

This one louder.

Christian looks toward the staircase.

"Stay here."

His voice is no longer teasing.

It's an order.

"What happened?"

He doesn't answer.

He reaches beneath the island and pulls out a gun.

My eyes widen.

Well.

That's useful information.

Christian heads toward the stairs.

"Don't move, Vivian."

He glances back at me.

"Whatever you hear, stay in this room."

Then he disappears into the darkness.

I stare after him.

A gun.

A security alarm.

And a mansion full of secrets.

I should stay exactly where he told me.

I should pretend to be the frightened heiress again.

Instead, I look toward the staircase.

A slow smile touches my lips.

Christian Vance just made one mistake.

He told an assassin not to move.

And now I really want to know what he's hiding upstairs.