Page 49 of Savage King

In vain, I look for a tab that says Bergdorf, Saks, or Bloomingdale’s.

Shit.

I close the laptop.

As much as I need clothing and a few other toiletries, I can't afford them from these places, and neither can my dad.

I have enough sense to know that I can't use my store cards to buy items from either one of the more affordable places, and without knowing what payment method Antonio is using, I can't open a new account. I don't even know the address of this place.

Deflated, I lean back on the couch.Well, that sucks.

I look around the room, wondering what I should do now. I'm wide awake, my strength has returned, and I don't have any pain apart from a faint tightness in my shoulder.

I could take a shower, I muse.

Or.

I could browse through those tabs a little bit more. Just to look. No way I'm buying anything.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I browse through the open tabs just to see what the top elite wear.

I never thought of our family as poor. We lived in a nice apartment on the Upper East Side of New York. I went to private schools. Took ballet classes. Dad was a member of a well-known country club. But this?

I finish my coffee and slap the laptop closed.

This is a whole different life.

Wearing one of Antonio's shirts again, I walk out onto the balcony. The wind has stopped, and the helicopter I watched leave earlier is gone.He has his own helicopter. My mind still has a hard time wrapping itself around that. I should have expected it, though, judging by this lavish… villa? Mansion? Castle? What do you call a place like this?

I take a deep breath of fresh air and close my eyes. God, a girl could get used to this.

As breathtaking as the view is, boredom sets in after a while. I take a quick shower, brush my teeth, and put Antonio's shirt back on. Pacing the room, I still don't know what to do with my time.

I'm an active person, and I've been in this room for five days now. I need to go out.Maybe I can walk in the backyard for a bit?

Like a burglar, I walk down the empty hallway. The house is eerily quiet. As a kid, our apartment always seemed big to me, though it was only a fraction of this size, but there always seemed to be noise—the sound of a vacuum cleaner, noise in the kitchen from Adelbert, our German cook. The washing machine would be running, or there’d be Mom's voice as she chatted with one of her friends on the phone. Even when it was quiet, the old grandfather clock chime ticked every thirty minutes.

For a moment, I consider that maybe I'm the only one in this house, but I dismiss that thought. Antonio mentioned a cook, and Maisy has been in and out. For the size of this place, there must be several servants, gardeners, pool technicians, not to mention a plethora of security guards.

I'm not particularly interested in running into anybody, but reassurance that I'm not alone would help.

When I reach the grandiose stairway, the front door opens, and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen walks in. Long, sleek black hair frames a soft, slightly oval face, dominated by big, pouty lips and large green eyes. She's tall and has the looks of a model who just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

"Hello! Anybody home?"

I stop at the top of the stairs, unsure if Antonio'snobody can see yourule applies to this woman as well. It's too late, though, because my movement catches her attention.

"Hey, up there." She calls.

"Hey," I reply, unsure. Slowly stepping down the stairs, I’m very aware that I'm wearing nothing but Antonio's oversized shirt while she… well, she looks like a runway model in her tight light-blue dress.

She assesses me head to toe. "You're wearing my brother's shirt."

I look down at myself as if I weren't already aware of that fact. "Yeah, I kinda ran out of clothes."

She smirks. "My brother has that effect on women." She holds out her hand, "Guiliana."

I grab her hand, but my mind goes blank. Do I tell her my name? I settle on "Scarlet" before the silence stretches too long.

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