First Enemy

CHAPTER SEVEN 

I stepped out of the bathroom, my face still damp from the cold water. Exhaustion pressed down on my shoulders like a weight I could not shake. The room was quiet, just the soft hum of the medical equipment beside Ethan's bed. I glanced at the cameras in the corners. Their dark lenses stared back like unblinking eyes. I could not sleep here. Not with every breath being watched, every movement recorded.

I walked to the door and pulled it open. My hand trembled slightly. One of the bodyguards stood in the hallway, a massive man with a blank expression. His eyes seemed to see everything and nothing at once. He looked at me without speaking, waiting.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "I need to talk about my living arrangements. I cannot stay in that room. There are cameras everywhere. I have no privacy."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head slowly. "That is not possible," he said, flat. "You have been assigned to the heir's quarters. You are meant to be by his side at all times. You cannot be given a separate room."

Frustration rose in my chest. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to keep my voice steady. "But there are cameras everywhere," I said, my voice rising despite myself. "I cannot change my clothes. I cannot sleep. How am I supposed to do my job without a moment of privacy?"

He sighed, the kind of sigh that told me he had heard this complaint before. He crossed his arms. "The cameras are for security purposes," he said, patient but firm. "They ensure the heir's safety and monitor your behavior. Prove yourself harmless, prove you pose no threat, and the cameras will be disabled. Until then, you must endure."

I opened my mouth to argue. He raised a hand to stop me.

"However," he continued, "we can make one concession. One camera will remain active, to monitor the heir's condition. The others will be disabled. You will have the other side of the room for your privacy. That is the best we can do."

I stared at him, trying to process it. Only one camera. That did not make sense. I had seen them myself: mounted on the walls, in the corners, above the door. At least five. "One camera?" I asked, my voice trembling. "There were countless cameras in there. I saw them clearly. How can you say only one will remain?"

Something flickered across his face, somewhere between annoyance and curiosity. He shrugged. "I do not know what you think you saw," he said, carefully neutral. "There is only one camera in the heir's room. The others were removed months ago. Perhaps you were mistaken."

I shook my head. My mind raced. I was not mistaken. I knew what I had seen. If he was telling the truth, someone had disabled the others. Who? Why?

Could it be Ethan? The thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. A chill ran down my spine. Could he have disabled the cameras himself? Could he have been watching me through the one that remained, observing me in secret while pretending to be unconscious? The thought was terrifying. It was also, in some small twisted way, thrilling.

I was about to press the bodyguard further. Footsteps sounded behind me before I could speak. I turned. There she was, standing in the doorway like she owned the place, her hair perfect, her dress flawless. Next to her, I felt small and ragged.

Anya.

She smiled, slow and sharp, and stepped into the room without waiting to be invited. Her eyes swept over the velvet curtains, the carved furniture, the bed where Ethan lay still and silent. She let out a short laugh.

"See who is already enjoying wealth," she said, tilting her head at me like I was something curious she had found in the dirt. "The little nobody, already tucked into the heir's private room. Soft sheets. Silence. All to herself. Must be nice."

Heat rose up my neck. "I did not ask for this," I said. "I do not want to be here any more than you want me to be."

She walked closer, slow and deliberate, her heels tapping against the marble. "This should have been my room," she said. "I come from a real family. I have real value. You have nothing. Yet here you are, sleeping beside the most powerful man in the country like you belong."

She stopped just short of me, close enough that I could smell her perfume, sweet and heavy. "I will make sure you regret this," she said quietly. "Every day you stay in this room, I will remind you exactly what you are."

I held my ground. My hands trembled at my sides, but I held it. "You can try," I said. "I have survived worse than you."

She studied me for a long moment, her smile never wavering. Then she turned and walked out, her heels echoing down the hallway.

I stood alone in the doorway, my heart still pounding, and looked back at the bed where Ethan l

ay. One enemy made, on my very first night.