Page 2 of All's Fair In Love & War

I was in awe until I saw the windows. Each one was boarded shut behind the heavy silk curtains. Shaking my head, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. The illusion of freedom was cute, almost charming, in a sick, twisted way.

It was a palace, but it was still a prison, and I didn’t care how soft the sheets were. I was already plotting how to set them on fire. I stepped farther into the room, my heels sinking into the thick rug that probably cost more than some people’s rent, while Doreen stood to the side like a silent watchdog, letting me take it all in.

The room was gorgeous, yes, but it screamed of captivity. The bedding was snow white, so crisp it looked untouched. Monogrammed pillows embroidered with a golden “B” were fluffed just right. There was a vanity against one wall, stocked with expensive makeup brands I hadn’t seen since the last time I walked out of Saks. Across the room sat a full closet with doors cracked enough to reveal a lineup of designer pieces in my size.

Oh, wow, he had everything tailored for me.

There was even a glass cabinet filled with accessories like bracelets, watches, and earrings. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. And next to it was a full-length mirror framed in gold, positioned perfectly to reflect the bed.

Of course it was. I imagined Khalil was a freak.

And yet… every window was sealed. Thick wooden panels hid behind the curtains, blocking out sunlight, stealing the view, and making it clear there was no way out.

I walked toward one of them, parting the drapes and running my hand along the edge of the board, feeling the rough grain beneath my fingertips. It was solid and bolted down.

“Did you think I would be thoroughly pleased with this, too?” I muttered under my breath, and Doreen said nothing.

I turned around slowly, facing her. “Tell me something. Did he decorate this himself? Or did he just pay someone to figure out what I might like before he locked me in here?”

She hesitated, just for a moment. “He gave instructions to spare no expense. He wanted it to reflect your taste.”

I scoffed. “My taste? He doesn’t know shit about me.”

“Apparently, he spoke with your brother, Mr. Dallas Veneto, to find out what you would like.”

“That son of a bitch doesn’t know anything either,” I sneered, finding it insulting that he would pretend to know me.

Doreen didn’t argue. She only offered a short nod before stepping toward the door. “I’ll give you some time to get settled. Dinner will be brought up shortly, or would you prefer having dinner in the family room with Mr. Bulgari?”

“I would rather gouge out my eyes. Right here is fine,” I replied, disgust filtering through my tone.

Doreen gave a final nod before stepping out and pulling the door closed behind her. I stayed still, my focus trained on the silence that followed, waiting to hear the familiar slide of the lock clicking into place, but it never came.

The absence of that sound unsettled me more than hearing it ever had, and I stared at the door, blinking slowly as realization crept in. It wasn’t locked. For the first time since this nightmare began, I wasn’t being sealed inside like a cagedanimal. That should’ve been a relief, but all it did was raise new questions.

Khalil didn’t forget details. He wasn’t careless or distracted. Every move he made was intentional, precise, and calculated. So, if the door had been left unlocked, it was done intentionally, which meant this little slice of freedom wasn’t a gift. It was a tactic.

He was extending what he wanted me to believe was an olive branch, trying to show me that things had changed now that I’d been moved to a room with soft pillows and golden trim. However, I wasn’t naïve enough to believe his sudden generosity came without a catch.

Maybe he wanted me to think I was safe now, or trusted, or that I had a choice in what came next. Perhaps he thought this would soften me, make me second-guess my rage, make me grateful, but all it did was make me more suspicious.

I turned away from the door, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching me bolt for it or even touch the handle. If he wanted to know how I’d react to being unchained, he was going to be disappointed.

I wasn’t going to run. I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to give himanything, not yet.

Let him keep guessing what I might do. Let him think I was adjusting, maybe even cooperating. But I hadn’t forgotten where I was or what he’d done to me. And no amount of luxury, no open door, no soft sheets or carefully lit fire would ever be enough to rewrite the truth of how this started.

I crossed the room, letting my fingertips graze the edge of the fireplace mantle before I noticed a black velvet box sitting in the corner. I opened it slowly, unsure what I’d find, and what I saw made my stomach twist. It was a diamond choker. Thick, elegant, and heavy enough to feel like a leash. I didn’t even wantto touch it, but I did. Just to feel the weight of the message behind it.

Next to it, a note.

For my bride. I’m aware Doreen gave you the option to dine in your room, but I demand you wear it tonight when we have dinner together as the family we will one day be. – K.

My hand curled into a fist. I set the box down, walked away, and grabbed the nearest perfume bottle from the vanity, launching it across the room. It exploded against the mirror, shattering the glass, and a scent thickened the air.

I grabbed a pen off the vanity and scrawled across the back of the note: "Go to hell," before stabbing the paper into the wood of the vanity with the pointed end of a comb.

I had to get out of here before I lost my mind, but escape wasn’t simple, not in this world. Not with men like Khalil and Dallas pulling the strings.

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