Page 29 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
Their eyes drop to the floor, and they face the opposite direction like I’m royalty passing through a palace, not a prisoner walking through the halls of her own captivity.
What the hell?
I keep walking, pretending not to notice them, but it gnaws at me.
Why won’t they look at me? Did Kaz say something to them? Are they under orders not to speak to me? Or—worse—do they know something I don’t?
My stomach tightens, but I keep going. No weakness. Not today.
I keep walking, weaving my way through polished corridors and sunlit archways, but the pattern continues—every time I pass a guard, they avert their eyes.
Not one glances at me. Not one says a word.
It happens again near a wide glass wall that overlooks the back garden. And again near what looks like a library. By the fifth time, it’s not flattering. It’s not chivalrous. It’s unnerving.
They’re doing it on purpose. Every single one of them.
Like I’m something fragile. Or cursed. Or owned.
My skin prickles with heat.
I walk faster, trying not to look shaken, but it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been paraded in some silent ritual that I don’t understand. Like they’ve been told: Don’t look at her, don’t speak to her, don’t even breathe in her direction.
God. What did Kaz say to them?
By the time I make a full loop of the house, I’m wound tight with nerves. I turn on my heel and retreat back the way I came, past the ornate furniture, the gold accents, the scent of too many things I can’t name—and head straight for the stairs.
The grand staircase stretches in front of me like some royal path, wide enough for ten people to walk side by side. I grip the carved railing and begin to climb.
Each step feels heavier than the last. I don’t even know where I’m going—I just know I need to be upstairs, away from all the silent eyes that won’t meet mine.
Back in the gilded cage I’ve started to hate slightly less than the rest of the house.
By the time I reach the landing, I’m breathless—not from the stairs, but from the tension wrapping around my chest like barbed wire.
I need to lie down. I need to think.
And I need to figure out what the hell Kaz is turning me into.
“Violet?”
I pause at the top of the stairs and turn toward the voice.
It’s Arina. I haven’t seen them in a few days. They’re the only person I like in this place. Fuck the rest of them, especially the blue-eyed monster.
Arina is leaning against the doorframe at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, tattoos on full display beneath a sleeveless lavender blouse with metallic silver pants that should clash—but don’t. Their eyes rake over me with dramatic flair, and then they whistle low.
“Well damn,” Arina says with a smirk. “Did you seduce Hades or escape him?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little laugh that escapes. “Neither. He finally gave in and let me walk around.”
“Huh,” they say, tilting their head. “Color me shocked. The mighty Kazimir letting go of the leash for a second. Miracles do happen.”
“I’m actually looking for him right now,” I say, adjusting the strap of the black satin slip on my shoulder. “Do you know where he is?”
Arina doesn’t answer right away. Instead, they look at me for a beat—really look at me. Then their lips curl, and they jerk their thumb over their shoulder.
“Probably in the study. Third door on the right, past the piano room,” they say. “Try not to make him combust. That dress is very distracting.”
