Page 15 of Beautiful Deception

“Or dead,” Dr. Kian says, his voice purring in my ear as his shoes scrunch the snow underneath. “Don’t underestimate the power of a trapped animal.”

“That’s too much, isn’t it?” I squeal, flabbergasted, and recoil as I accidentally meet Kimberly’s eyes from the other side.

“Don’t believe everything you see,” Dr. Kian warns.

He gently rubs the top of my head for the first time. Strands of messy hair fall to my eyes, nearly missing the flash of cursed coldness plastered on his face, and then my hair curtains to cover the rest of my sight.

I huff, grumbling in my mind when my throat clenches shut from that mere illusion. It’s utterly terrifying, and my feet shift like an animal, ready to run away from danger.

“Everyone is capable of breaking their principles.” Dr. Kian’s fingers brush down my hair, tucking some behind my ear with one finger while slyly caressing my cheek with his cold knuckles.

It’s tempting to throw that back at him and make him question himself if he would go to any length to defend something he cares about while also gambling on it.

“Is she capable?” I ask for peace of mind.

Anything to settle the jittery nerves that’s like water on a bass speaker.

“Come speak to me about it tonight,” he says and nods amicably at Remo before returning inside the villa.

Remo tilts his head, his gaze never leaving my face as he thinks with the same distant expression on his face. He and Dr. Kian are difficult to read. I’m no expert on facial expressions, but I do learn from everyday interactions. But these two… they’re somewhat the opposite yet on the same continuum of detachment.

As if they’re able to abandon everything without hesitation.

He hands me a small rectangular thing, which looks like the minuscule cube I found on his jacket. I take it, unintentionally pouting when the sensation doesn’t match the smooth appearance. It feels akin to painless microscopic hooks.

“It’s a tracking device that goes on your clothes,” he explains, and the quietude is stirred by the withered rustling branches of a mystical winter witch, bestowing an abominable yet captivating ambiance. “I can find you faster this way.”

Confusion writes itself on my face as I study the item and carefully set it on my sleeve to test out the grip. It’s surprisingly sturdy as I move my arm.

“I found something like this in your jacket, but it was square-like in nature,” I mention, unable to take my eyes off the tracker doing an amazing job at staying still.

“It’s a hearing device,” he admits offhandedly.

My head snaps up, and a sense of unease tracks the pesky voice of reason. It’s an invasion of privacy, and I absolutely hate how the irritation wilts when Remo’s eyes are cast down.

He reminds me of a puppy being reprimanded.

“It wasn’t on.”

I should be angry or at least voice my stance on being put in a situation I wasn’t aware of. A surge of fury scatters within my chest, replaced by a rush of fresh oxygen that washes away the indignant.

“Really?” I squint suspiciously.

He nods and looks straight into my eyes, an effort to show as much sincerity as the darkness in his eyes allows.

He’s lying, a voice sings.

It’s Dr. Kian’s distorted voice.

“I believe you,” I say, and it feels like putting my foot in shark-infested water.

***

I didn’t end up going to see Dr. Kian. I’m not mentally up for another session, mostly fearing for ears in the walls. He has control of what is inside his office, but the villa is private property, and isn’t allowed any changes.

Snowing every night doesn’t help, either. With cell reception, I could call a helicopter to get me out of here. Despite sleeping soundly, something I need to be on alert about, the villa itself seems to be shrouded in malevolence.

Something is brewing and will explode soon. That’s what my prickling skin is telling me from the back of my neck. It’s the same sensation I had when I was trapped in a wooden box with an oxygen mask on my face. I was in and out of consciousness, but I’ll never forget that helpless feeling.

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