Page 38 of Cruel Heir

But I can buy a little more time. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Like I said, start taking them now. It has to have time to work.” Celeste bites her lip. “I don’t know where it is safe enough to hide them. With your makeup, maybe, I doubt he’d dig through that. I’m not sure.” She watches as I pop out one of the pills, swallowing it quickly with a sip from the glass of water by my bed. “I’ll go get you some breakfast.”

There are flowers on the vanity as usual, although, still no more notes. I hide the pills at the very bottom of my makeup bag, do my best to eat as much of the breakfast that Celeste brings me as I can, and goabout my day. I don’t see Andre until dinner, and he’s quieter than usual. It makes me anxious, wondering if something has happened, but I don’t dare ask him. I’m not entirely sure that I want to know.

In the morning, there’s a note propped up against the vase of flowers. I look at it for a long moment, hesitating to read it, until I finally get up and reach for it. I’ve just opened it when I hear Celeste’s knock, and she walks in, glancing at me as she sets the breakfast tray down that she’s brought me.

“What’s this one say?” she asks, the smallest hint of sarcasm in her voice. I’ve felt her getting more and more comfortable with talking to me with every day that passes, and it’s begun to genuinely feel as if we’re friends. It’s comforting to have someone that I know I can trust, and who I’m glad to have as a friend. It makes me hope that when I do get out of here, that I might find some way to keep in touch with Celeste—or bring her with me.

If she doesn’t end up hurt or worse for what you’ve dragged her into.I feel the now-familiar prick of guilt at the reminder of the danger I’ve put her in, of the price she stands to pay if Andre figures out her involvement, or if my father gets me out of here without my being able to take her, too. I force the thought out of my head as I slide the note out of the envelope, telling myself to be optimistic.I’ll figure something out. I have to.

Lucia,

Please join me tonight in the formal dining room for a special dinner at eight. There will be a box sent up to your room later today, as I’ve arranged this specially for you. I hope you enjoy it.

Andre

I can feelCeleste’s eyes on me as I read it. “It sounds like he’s arranged some kind ofdatefor us,” I choke out, handing her the note. “I don’t understand what’s going on with him. He barely spoke to melast night, and he’s been withdrawn all week. All the flowers, and now this—”

Celeste frowns, setting the note down. “He asked me how much longer before you were—done.” She makes a face. “He stopped me in the hall last night when I passed him. So I suppose it has something to do with that.”

“He doesn’t need to give me gifts and set up a fancy dinner to fuck me. He managed just fine before.” I throw up my hands, utterly confused. “This must just be another one of his mind games.”

“I’d believe that.” Celeste shrugs. “You can’t trust any of it. You know that.”

“I do.” I know that this must all just be another trick, a way for Andre to up the stakes between us. He’s grown bored of making me react to him in bed, finds it too easy now, so he’s trying to win my affection as well. He’s trying to conquer every part of me, not just my body, and I can see that clearly.

I remind myself not to be drawn in by it. Not to let down my guard.

But secretly, I feel a small flicker of anticipation at the idea of what might be in store for me tonight.

—

A box is waiting for me on the bed when I come upstairs at six, just as the note said. I leave it there while I shower and dry my hair, smoothing it out with a straightening iron so that I don’t have to bother Celeste for this. I told her to take as much of the day off as she could manage, trying to make up for the danger that I know I put her in by getting me the pills. There’s nothing I could really do to repay her, but I hope that it’s the thought that matters.

The box is silver, with a white silk ribbon wrapped around it. I almost laugh at the ostentatiousness of it—it feels very much like Andre to make such a show out of this. I wince at the thought as I undo the ribbon. I don’t want to know Andre this well. But I can’t seem to help it. He’s my husband, and we’re getting closer, whether Ilike it or not. His plan to make me want him as a part of his revenge feels as if it’s backfiring on us both.

Inside, there’s what looks like a pile of silky red fabric. When I take it out, I realize it’s a dress—a goddess-style gown with silver filigreed clasps at the shoulders, open on the sides to the hip, and then again from mid-thigh to the floor. I can already tell that it will cover just enough while still covering very little—a dress that seems made for a private dinner at home with my husband. Looking at it, I know I should dread what he has planned for me in this dress. But instead, the first feeling I have is a warm flickering of excitement through my lower belly, a spreading feeling of anticipation.

There’s more inside of the box, too. A silver belt matching the filigree on the shoulder clasps and two small boxes that I know must be jewelry. I reach for them, hating my curiosity, the anticipation of what might be inside. I’ve always loved beautiful things, always enjoyed luxury and being spoiled, and Andre is playing into that precisely. Iknowthat, but the feeling remains.

One box is larger and flat, and I open it to find a white-gold necklace that will drape down between my breasts, studded with leaf-shaped rubies. The earrings match—long, dangling strings of rubies in the same shape, almost long enough to touch my shoulders. All together, it makes a gorgeously seductive outfit—one that I expect Andre wouldn’t want me to wear out of the house, but that is meant for me to wear forhim.

I slip into the dress, pairing it with silver strappy heels that I find in the closet, and fastening the jewelry as I sit down at my vanity. I opt for very little makeup, except for a bright red lipstick that’s almost exactly the same shade as the dress, and a thin line over my eyes along with mascara. It makes my eyes look huge and brings the focus to my mouth, and as I look in the mirror, I wonder why I’m making so much of an effort.Is it because I’m afraid of what happens if I don’t, or because I’m secretly enjoying tonight?

I don’t think I want to know the answer. I look at my makeup bag, catching a glimpse of the pills hidden at the bottom of it. I don’t knowif they’ve had enough time to work, but if so, I don’t have to worry about the consequences of tonight. I could simply enjoy it.

I’m not supposed to want to enjoy it.I grit my teeth, twisting my hands together in my lap, wishing for the millionth time that I had made one small decision differently that night, so that I wouldn’t be faced with this. It was one thing when I wasn’t defying Andre because I was terrified of what he might do. Now, I’m having difficulty defying him because I’m beginning to want what we have.

I zip up my makeup bag abruptly, standing up and walking quickly to the door. Regardless ofwhyI’m heading downstairs without argument, the fact is that if I’m late for something he planned specially for me, he will be angry. I tell myself that’s why I’m not risking it, as I walk downstairs towards the formal dining room.

The chandelier is lit, gleaming over the table, the crystals twinkling and glinting off of the windows, where I can see the dimly lit garden outside. My stomach twists, remembering the night Andre kidnapped me, and I look at my husband, sitting at the head of the table.

“Principessa.” He stands up, crossing the room to me just as I step inside, and his hand lands on my waist, drawing me in for a light kiss. “I planned this for you.” He gestures to the table—a salad course already set out and waiting, sparkling water in a glass for me and wine for him. “Dinner, just the two of us. I requested each of the courses. I hope you enjoy it.”

“Why?” I blurt it out without thinking, staring at him. “I don’t understand.”

Andre looks at me, his fingers brushing lightly over my jaw. “Well, I can’t take you out on a date,dolcezza. So this seemed like the next best thing. Perhaps one day, when everything is more settled.”

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