Page 47 of Arianna

All of it.

Walking farther inside the closet, I look up, noticing that one side of the room has rows of shoes up to the ceiling. The other side has purses of all sizes, colors, and shapes. The other wall has a moving rack of clothes circling. There are floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every corner of the room and a huge glittery white sofa next to the wall of shoes.

Then I am surprised to see more than twenty shopping bags on top of the sofa and down on the floor. This is… wow. It is just too much, but I cannot help the overwhelming and strange feeling in my chest.

That bitch, joy…

Then I notice the brand name on the bags.

Valentina Co.

What a way to kill the moment, Sebastian.

I decided right there that it will all go to charity.

To the less fortunate, but then I wonder. ‘Haven’t they suffered enough?’

Shaking my head and all thoughts of people who serve me nothing, I turn away from the sofa, looking for the exit, and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

What stares back at me makes me cringe.

Messy hair sticking to one side of my face.

“Gross,” I whisper to myself while looking at my reflection.

Then I see the same dress I wore to graduation and the ruined makeup making me look like a wild raccoon.

In my defense, I had no time to shower and get out of these clothes with everything that went down.

Hell, I don’t even remember getting into bed. No one would blame me for looking like a Jersey Shore reject after a long night of making a fool of themselves.

Knowing I will not be comfortable facing whatever it is that waits for me today if I don’t shower and start looking human again, I head out of the closet-heaven and get right to it.

* * *

“Well, hello there, sunshine. You look…” Benjamin points a kitchen knife my way and cringes. “Cute.”

Cute, my ass, but still better than yesterday.

“Shut up,” I mumble while walking toward where he is standing cooking breakfast. I don’t fail to notice how huge this place is. This is a home fit for a king, not a politician. I guess these days, it is all the same. “Where are we?” Taking a seat at the counter facing Benjamin, I dive into the plate of chocolate chip pancakes he placed in front of me. My stomach rumbles, which makes him laugh.

“You got a hard-on for my pancakes, kid.”

I finish swallowing the piece of buttery goodness before replying because I have manners, unlike the Viking in front of me. “Don’t be crude, Benjamin.”

“Would it kill you to speak like someone your age?” He smiles while adding more pancake mix to the heated pan. “To answer your question, we’re in Bastian’s home.” Ugh, why must everyone insist on calling him that? His name is Sebastian. I dislike the way people tend to shorten your given name. If my mother wanted me to be called Ari, she would have named me that instead of Arianna. Benjamin sets a glass of orange juice in front of me, and I am reminded of how much the grown man does for me. There are things about him that I still don’t know, and perhaps I will never know, which is fine with me. We are all entitled to a little privacy, and he has given me as much. “I need you to do something for me.”

I take a sip of my juice and look at him expectantly.

His eyes are hard, and all tenderness disappears. “I need you to behave.”

Setting the glass down on the marble table, I open my mouth to tell him exactly how I feel about his request, but he interrupts me when he raises his hand. I swear I try to stop myself, but it's a reflex that won’t go away. I flinch.

Don’t show weakness…

Too late.

Fuck.

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