Page 223 of Mine Again
Today he’s in a charcoal suit, tailored to perfection. Open collar. Designer watch flashing in the light. His dark hair is slicked back with effortless precision. He looks like he’s posing for a magazine cover or walking into a funding pitch. Ridiculous.
“You’re particularly beautiful today,” he continues when I don’t answer.
I just stare at him, pouring as much disdain into my gaze as I can muster.
His smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it deepens, warming like I’ve given him exactly what he wanted.
I look away when a server enters, carrying a tray with a tumbler of murky brown liquid. He sets it beside Hale’s plate like it belongs there. My brows draw together.
“Isn’t it a bit early for alcohol?” I ask.
Hale smirks, pleased with himself. “This, Isabella, is the elixir of youth and longevity. Fermented reishi mushroom, ginseng, and deer velvet.”
“Deer velvet as in antlers?” I wrinkle my nose. “And you ferment them?”
“Yes.” His tone takes on the smug cadence of a salesman as he lifts the glass with a flourish, swishing the liquid like fine liquor. “Civilizations have prized this for centuries, but few have access to the authentic blend.”
He takes a deliberate sip, savoring it like expensive cognac.
“Gross,” I mutter under my breath.
His laughter follows me as I turn away to help myself to some food, praying none of it has been laced with deer velvet or whatever other bizarre tonic he’s into. Surely the Michelin-starred chef he bragged about isn’t quite so experimental with breakfast.
I’d actually thought about a hunger strike on my first day here, but what would be the point? I need my strength if I’m going to survive this and find a way to help Luca reach me inside this palatial fortress.
And sadly, I’m not exaggerating when I say fortress. I wish I were, because this place really does seem impenetrable.
Even the air feels wrong here, too clean, too still. Every door shuts with the echo of a vault, every corridor smells faintly of antiques and stale air. A cage wrapped in velvet.
I keep my eyes open, storing away every detail. Cameras in the corners, some obvious, others tucked where you’d only notice if you were looking. Guards posted at the doors, not hovering but close enough that I’d never get far. Even the windows here, framed with heavy silk, are reinforced glass.
I’m no hacker, no strategist, but at least I can count bodies and mark cameras. Every detail I notice, I’ll pass to Luca when he comes or somehow gets in touch with me. And he will.
For the past two days, I’ve kept my conversations with Hale to the bare minimum, letting him fill the silence with his endless boring monologues.
But silence isn’t a weapon against him. He loves hearing himself talk.
It’s time to change tactics.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Isabella
Ispoon a serving of scrambled eggs onto my plate. They’re buttery, golden, and maddeningly perfect. I add a croissant from the basket, then carry the food to the table and sit a few chairs away from him, close enough to speak, far enough not to feel cornered.
“Why did you send Sebastian after me?” My voice is light, casual, as if we’re making idle breakfast chatter instead of tearing open old wounds.
The question pours out of me before I’ve fully realized how little Sebastian has occupied my thoughts since Las Vegas.
The moment Luca told me the truth about him, it was like a switch snapped inside me. Affection, gone. Trust, gone. All that remained was the burn of humiliation at being played, and I shoved him to the farthest corners of my mind.
A week ago, I was preparing to marry him. I had convinced myself attraction would be enough, that I’d grow to love him in time. Now I can’t even summon pity.
This whole episode of my life seems unreal. He’s like a shadow that dissolved the instant I opened my eyes to reality. While the real Sebastian probably dissolved in a vat of Russian acid or ended uppicked apart by vultures in the Nevada desert.
Hale doesn’t so much as blink. He tips his head, smiling, as if I’ve asked about the weather, but he doesn’t answer right away.
“My father was still alive the first time I met Sebastian,” I press, forcing steadiness into my tone. “You must have realized there was no way in hell he could have seduced me then.”
