Page 17 of Forbidden Passion

“Princess!” a snide voice called out.

Ciara didn't bother to slow her brisk stride. The person calling out had laced her title with unmistakable venom, and rather than stopping to confront the insulting person, she hurried onward. The door leading to the back hallway was her only goal.

All she craved, all she needed, was a brief respite—a mere five minutes to recover from the tense confrontation withFalk. Perhaps she should enlist Zayed's aid. If she confided in her friend, informed him that Falk was causing her distress, Zayed would undoubtedly track the man down and issue a stern warning.

Yes, that seemed like a solid plan.

However, her steps faltered as she contemplated the strategy further. Zayed would undoubtedly inquire about why Falk was troubling her. And she couldn't bring herself to lie to Zayed. Firstly, he was one of her closest friends, and secondly, he possessed an uncanny knack for deciphering people's true intentions. He would immediately detect any falsehood or omission. She couldn't deceive him, even if it meant admitting that Falk merely sought to discuss the weekend they had spent together. The tension in her chest tightened at the thought of navigating this complex web of emotions and loyalties.

Nope, Zayed’s assistance wasn’t an option.

Maybe if she just confronted Falk, explained to him why she became so riled whenever she heard a command, explained about the abuse she’d endured from her nanny, the brutal hands, pinching, and humiliating punishments, maybe he would understand.

But Ciara quickly dismissed that option. She could barely acknowledge the reasons born from her past when she was alone. Telling Falk those humiliating, horrible experiences…no. She couldn’t do it.

“Princess!” that female voice called out again.

Ciara quickened her pace, escaping through the door into the back hallway. Once in the dimly lit corridor, she leaned against the door, closed her eyes, and took a slow, steadying breath. "The past is over," she whispered to herself. "And I will never allow myself to be in that kind of situation again."

Surveying her surroundings, she realized she was truly alone. Not even her bodyguards had followed her. She was completely alone!

A relieved smile crossed her face as she pushed away from the door, meandering further down the hallway. Her guards were probably grumbling about her swift retreat. She'd need to apologize; leaving them behind violated multiple protocols.

Yet, the solitude felt refreshing. She had just rounded a corner when she heard quickly approaching footsteps. Before she could turn around and apologize to one of her guards, a forceful push propelled her forward into darkness, followed by the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking.

What the hell had just happened? Had someone just…had she been shoved into a closet?

Panic wrapped its fingers around her throat, but Ciara willed herself to take a breath and assess the situation calmly. Unfortunately, inky blackness started to close in on her.

And old memory, one that had been buried for so long that she’d forgotten about it, catapulted itself into her mind along with all of the painful trauma from that horrible time. Another closet. Another hard hand shoving her into the closet, hard pinches that had left bruises…long periods of time stuck in a closet with no idea of when she would be released. The punishment had been so bad, Ciara had blocked it from her mind in order to “hide” from those moments.

“You’re okay!” Ciara told herself. “You’re okay!”

But she wasn’t okay. She was terrified!

A thin sliver of light from under the doorway offered a feeble attempt to penetrate the thick dark void. Wrapping herarms around herself, she took a hesitant step backward, only to clumsily collide with an unseen obstacle. Spinning around, she strained to see what lurked behind her—front and back, it was nothing but darkness and eerie, unidentifiable sensations of…things…unseen things…grazing her bare arms.

“Help!” she called out, but her rising panic caused her throat to constrict and the word came out as a mere whisper. “Help!” she tried again, but the painful memories continued to flash through her mind, overwhelming her.

She was trapped!

“Not again!” she sobbed, trying to slow the panic attack. But it was no use. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs and she felt a band tightening around her chest. She broke into a cold sweat. Ciara wasn’t sure if she was shivering or about to pass out. And then the dizziness hit her. Reaching out, she grabbed onto something, she wasn’t sure what it was and was too panicked to identify the cold metal texture.

Rationally, Ciara knew that this was merely a panic attack. Irrationally, logic didn’t matter. Memories flashed through her mind. Darkness. Hunger. Desperation for a bathroom. Silence and…and nothing.

Chapter 14

“Where the hell is she?” Falk growled, ready to tear apart every door in this damn palace until he found Ciara.

“She went out through this door, Your Highness,” one of her bodyguards explained.

Falk looked at the man, but had to tamp down on his increasing anger when he recognized the worry in the younger man’s eyes. If her bodyguards were concerned, that meant that this was really bad.

“Check every door. Even if it’s locked, check inside.” He thought about that for a moment, then pointed to the cluster of guards. “Especially if it’s locked. Is there someone with a master key for the rooms in this area?”

A member of the cleaning staff ran down the hallway, a set of keys in her hand. “There isn’t a master key, Your Highness, but I have the keys to all the doors in this section of the palace. Other guards are searching the rest of the palace.”

Falk took the keys and hurried to the back hallway. He searched every room and storage closet. Behind the tenth door, he found Ciara lying on the floor.

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