Page 54 of At Your Mercy
Calling it a house was generous. It was a fortress of exuberant wealth, built on a battleground of tortured blood. Light burned from tall windows, warm and golden, but the warmth didn’t reach me. It never had.
The car stopped at the front steps, but I didn’t move right away. My throat was dry, and my hands were clammy against my thighs.
The driver cleared his throat softly, and I took a breath, pushing the door open and stepping out, my shoes crunching on the gravel. The night air was cool against my face, but it did nothing to ease the tight coil in my chest.
The heavy doors opened before I even reached them, and there he was. Elias.
Dressed in dark slacks and a half-buttoned shirt, he leaned in the doorway like he owned the world—which he did, in his own way. His eyes found me instantly, cutting and bright, and that predatory smile curved across his face like usual.
“Ronan,” he drawled. “You came.”
I forced a smile. “Well, I did ask to and all.”
“Mm.” His gaze slid over me, taking in my outfit. “You really are determined to test me, aren’t you?”
I shrugged, feigning ease I didn’t feel. “The shirt is pretty…”
Elias chuckled like I’d told a joke, stepping aside to let me in. “Maybe for someone without your looks… Well, it’s fine. Come in. Let’s see if we can find something to satisfy you.”
The sound of the doors closing behind me was final, like a lock sliding into place. I dug my nails into my palms, trying to stop my hands from shaking.
The foyer was all marble and echo, the chandelier above blinding me. I squinted against it, blinking, as Elias’s hand landed against my shoulder, steering me farther in.
“I’m glad I had the foresight to bring over one of my stylists,” he said smoothly, voice echoing faintly off the vaulted ceiling.
I forced a laugh, even as my stomach twisted. “These are clothes you bought me.”
“Yes, but for more casual situations. Like lounging around or grocery shopping,” Elias said, walking ahead, expecting me to follow. “Not for when I specifically request that you look presentable.”
My shoes thudded quietly against the polished stone as I trailed him down the vast hall, keeping my expression loose while my eyes worked overtime. A maid was dusting an alcove mirror, a man in a black suit was carrying a tray of glasses toward the dining room, a guard leaned in a doorway, hand at his belt, gaze flicking toward me and away again.
Too many eyes.There were always too many.
“You’ll be pleased,” Elias continued, tone light but threaded with steel. “I also called in a weapons specialist with rarities you can’t find anywhere else. I think you’ll love what he’s brought for you.”
“I’m sure I will,” I answered softly.
We passed another staffer—this one in the livery Elias liked his housekeepers to wear, pressed black and white, with an expression as neutral as a mask. She bowed her head as we passed, though I caught her eyes dart up to me, curious and wary.
My jaw tightened. Everyone looked. Everyone knew. Even if they didn’t know, they knew.
Elias’s hand brushed my back as he led me toward the parlor. “You should be flattered. This is all for you.”
I hummed noncommittally while cataloging exits. Double doors at the end of the hall. Windows tall enough to climb through if it came to that. Guards—two so far, maybe more.
I knew this place was a cage. The problem was, tonight, I was the one who’d walked right into it.
“I know. Thank you.”
The parlor was staged like a magazine spread—velvet couches, low golden light, a fire burning under the mantel. I hated it. It smelled like cigars and expensive perfume.
Two people were already inside waiting.
The first was the stylist—a lean man in his mid-to-late forties with slicked-back hair and glasses that caught the firelight. Garment bags hung from a rack behind him, silk and sequins glinting through them. He lit up at the sight of me like I was his canvas.
“Ah, Elias was right. The face, the hair—it’s criminal to hide it in…” His gaze slid down my shirt, his smile tightening. “…that.”
I tugged the hem of my top like I didn’t care, even though my pulse ticked hard. Was the issue that it wasn’t form-fitting? I didn’t think it looked bad enough for two people to comment on.
