Page 20 of Stolen Queen

I close my eyes, trying to piece together my last memories. I remember standing on my balcony, looking out at the night sky. I'd been planning to sneak out again, desperate for another taste of freedom after my first adventure weeks ago.

I'd climbed over the railing, my heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. But after that… nothing. It's all a blank. Did I fall? Is that why my head hurts? But if I fell, how did I end up here?

Panic rises as I consider the possibilities. Did someone find me? Take me? My father's enemies are numerous, and I've always been warned about the dangers that lurk beyond our walls.

I sit up slowly, fighting against the wave of dizziness that threatens to pull me back down. The room spins for a moment before settling. It's not lavish, and yet, it’s definitely high-end. Expensive furniture, thick carpets. Whoever brought me here has money. That knowledge does little to comfort me.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet sinking into plush carpet. My gaze darts around, taking in more details that set my nerves on edge. Heavy curtains cover what I assume are windows, blocking out any natural light. A large armoire looms in the corner. Next to it sit my shoes. I glance down, noting that I’m dressed in my clothes. I guess I’m glad that my captor only removed my shoes and not my clothes.

I stand slowly, steadying myself against the bedpost as another wave of dizziness hits. I take a tentative step forward, then another, my legs shaky but holding.

As I move, I catch sight of myself in a full-length mirror. A small gasp escapes my lips as I notice a bruise forming on my temple. What happened to me?

Fear grows as I approach the door. My hand trembles as I reach for the handle, dreading what I might find on the other side. I turn it slowly, holding my breath.

It doesn't budge.

I try again, harder this time, but the door remains stubbornly closed. Locked. My heart rate spikes.

"Hello?" I call out, wondering if it’s a good idea to get my captor’s attention. "Is anyone there?"

Silence answers me.

I'm locked in a strange room, injured, with no memory of how I got here. I must have been kidnapped. My father often warned me of the possibility, although I usually dismissed his concerns as paranoia.

"You're a Rinella," he'd say, his eyes hard. "There are people who'd do anything to get their hands on you."

I thought he was just trying to scare me to control me. What value could I possibly have to anyone outside our family? The D’Amatos didn’t seem to feel I held any value.

Now, trapped, I realize how naive I've been. My heart pounds against my ribs as the truth of my situation sinks in. This isn't some adventure gone wrong. This is exactly what my father had always feared.

Tears prick at my eyes as I come to terms with the consequences of my actions. I'd been so eager for freedom, and now, I'd give anything to be back in my pink bedroom, safe and sound.

I stand staring at the door, wondering how long I've been missing. Does my family know I'm gone yet? Are they searching for me?

The handle of the door turns and my heart, already beating fast, ratchets up to a million miles a minute. The door swings open, and I stumble backward, nearly losing my balance as I retreat from my captor.

Matteo Moretti steps into the room. His tall frame fills the doorway, those piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.

"You?” I'm shocked. Why… how… am I with Matteo?

Matteo's expression is unreadable as he sets a tray of food on a small table and then takes a step toward me. I flinch involuntarily.

His head tilts as he studies me. “You’re safe.”

Am I? My mind races, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. Matteo Moretti, the man who's been haunting my dreams for weeks, is now standing before me in this strange room. Is this a dream too? The line between reality and fantasy blurs, and I'm not sure what to believe anymore.

Flashes of that night at the club come flooding back. The burning taste of alcohol, the thrill of rebellion, and… a kiss? My cheeks flush hot as the memory surfaces, vivid and electric.

Is that why he’s taken me? He wants more than a kiss?

"What's going on?" I demand, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Did you… did you kidnap me?"

Matteo's brow furrows, and he takes another step closer. I back up until I'm pressed against the bed, thinking this isn’t the best place to get cornered if he wants more than a kiss.

“That depends on what you consider to be kidnapping.”

What? “You took me without my consent.”

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