Chapter 6

Ten days. That's how long I've been here. But somehow, it feels like ten months. Natasha is back home with my uncle. Enzo, creepy as he might be, also left a few days ago for a business trip out of the country. So, I haven't even had another weird-ass dinner or awkward fundraiser to endure.

One dinner and a fundraiser, and I still got out of sleeping with him. And for that, even as screwed up as this entire situation over here is, I'm grateful.

I'm lonely, to the point that I'm sinking into some sort of depression. Exactly what used to happen when I was a kid and my parents were at their worst and I felt all alone in the world.

I do the same thing day in and day out. I wake up, I dress, I eat breakfast, I walk around the gated area outside, doing laps until lunchtime. All while Hudson and Rossi follow me around. And then after lunch, I find a new spot in this place that's practically a castle, and I sketch. And when I'm tired of that, I read. I read rom-coms that make me feel less shitty about my situation. Books where the main characters fall hopelessly in love and I can actually laugh.

But sometimes, I'm not actually reading. Sometimes, I have a piece of paper tucked into my book. I'm writing down notes—things like when the guards come into the complex, or when certain cars pull up to parts of the building, or where Enzo and his father are supposedly traveling to, or anything else that might be useful to why I'm here in the first place.

I can't wait forever. And with Enzo out of town, there's no better time to snoop. As long as I'm inside the house, Rossi and Hudson back off and don't follow me like a shadow. So, today is the day I use all I've learned from observing everyone who lives here, and I start doing what I came here to do. With the only people here being Hudson, Rossi, and the chef, it should be easy enough for me to sneak into the room where I always see Enzo taking his crew and find out what is in there.

Though two guards are here—Rossi and Hudson, they stay near the entrance in the main part of the house. And the chef disappears when it isn't mealtime.

Sitting up in the chaise lounge I've been lying in, I stretch my hands over my head as I look at the camera in the corner of one of the many living areas. There are cameras scattered throughout the house. But oddly enough, not near that particular room. At least not that I've noticed.

Slowly, I stand, gazing around to make sure I really am alone before I head toward the large wooden door. I've seen a key be used to get inside, but I grew up on Sunset Drive. I can pick any lock.

First, I make sure it wasn't left unlocked. When I turn the handle, it hardly moves.

Of course it's not unlocked. Why would it be that easy?

Taking a bobby pin from my hair, I jam it in the lock and begin wiggling it around. This is, hands down, the hardest lock I've ever attempted to pick. But eventually, it clicks a little, and I know I've unlocked it.

I raise my hand and start to push the door open when, suddenly, an arm is around my waist. It doesn't pull me backward, but keeps me rooted in the same place.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Dove?" the voice growls against my head. It's familiar. Too familiar. "Snooping, are you?"

"I, um … I just wanted to see the whole house." I try to keep my voice from shaking, but it's nearly impossible. "I was wondering what was in that room. I've seen everyone else go in there. Why can't I?"

Being blonde, I've already been called dumb my entire life. Right now, I'm going to lean into that stigma and play the airhead everyone paints me to be anyway.

"I heard some of the guys talking. They said it was a library." I make my voice whiny and extremely annoying. "I love to read. Why can't I go in? It's such a waste."

I cringe, hearing the shit coming from my mouth. I sound like a pouty little kid who isn't allowed to go on the playground. But I can't give this man any sign of what I'm actually up to.

Slowly, the strong man moves me to face him and crowds me against the wall.

I gulp when I take in Hudson. He's in a white T-shirt today. A T-shirt that hugs his arms deliciously.

"There's a camera directly above the door in there," he growls at me. "You walk in there?" His eyes narrow. "Consider yourself dead."

His jawline is sharp, and I imagine running my finger across it and touching the stubble sprinkled on it. He's got one of those piercing, dimpled chins you see in movies that no man actually has in real life. His blue eyes are more of a stormy-gray color today. And his dirty-blond hair falls perfectly. Like he styled it, though I'm sure he didn't.

"S-sorry," I whisper. My body is painfully aware that he's holding me here, against this wall. That should scare me and make me want to run. But instead … my skin buzzes, and my heart races in my chest. "I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to go in there."

He gazes down at me as if he's waiting for me to crack. He doesn't know me well if he thinks that I will. I was raised to lie to teachers, social workers, and police officers when they questioned me about my parents' well-being.

"Hudson?" a voice yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Did you go into the office? The system is saying there was a breach."

Before I realize it, Hudson's hand covers my mouth—even though I wasn't going to say anything anyway.

He doesn't look flustered, though his hand presses slightly harder on my mouth. "Yeah. Uh, sorry, Rossi. I was doing my check throughout the building, and the door to the office was left unlocked." He swallows, and I watch his neck move slowly. "All set now."

Rossi doesn't answer right away, but eventually, he calls back, "Uh … okay. Boss isn't going to like that."

"I'll take care of it," he snaps. "Next time, they should make sure it's fucking locked if they don't want this shit happening."

Seconds later, I hear Rossi's footsteps as he walks away from the stairs, but Hudson keeps his hand on my mouth, and I panic.

"I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth, and you're going to go to your room. Quietly," he says through gritted teeth. "Do you fucking understand?"

My heart pumps with fear. One second, I felt like he was possibly my ally, helping me find my bracelet and taking me to McDonald's when I told him I was hungry. And now, I fear him.

Sluggishly, I nod, and just like he said, he pulls his hand back slowly.

As I shuffle between him and the wall, he grabs my wrist and stops me from moving farther away. "Don't go looking for things, Dove. You're not going to like what you find."

Pulling my wrist away from him, I rush into my room. Closing the door behind me, I suck in a few shaky breaths.

Having someone like him around is going to make everything harder. But still, two questions won't leave my brain.

Why did Hudson lie for me?

And why on earth does he call me Dove?

In my room, I pace back and forth.

How the hell could she be that stupid? I mean, yeah, I don't know the chick personally. I know her past. I know why she's here to begin with. I know, despite her size, she can eat the fucking shit out of a Big Mac and polish off two apple pies like nothing. But how could she think she'd just stroll into that room—after fucking unlocking the door with a damn hairpin—and just carry on with her day? Like she isn't a sitting duck, surrounded by sharks.

And how could I be so stupid? To be that close to her?

Guilt consumes every single ounce of my body, and I wish I could take what just happened back. I have no business looking at Briar James—or any woman for that matter, the way I just looked at her.

I'm not buying the whole "library" bullshit either. No. That girl is up to something. I should just turn her in and tell Enzo that she's suspicious. Her being here is going to complicate everything I'm working toward because I'm fucking lying to Rossi.

Rossi wouldn't have told Enzo that it was Briar who unlocked the door. He knows that would only leave Briar to get hurt. But if I told him, he'd know that she was snooping around, and then we'd both be stuck lying. And in this world, the more you know, the harder it gets.

The shit in that room—all those files—well, it's like Pandora's box. Once you open it, there's absolutely no going back.

There's a reason that room stays locked.

I, myself, need to get into the files in there, and even I haven't had the balls to fucking attempt that yet. Then, there's her—this five-foot-maybe-three girl—and ten days in, and she's breaking into it, completely fearless.

For the past ten days, I've had my doubts about whether she really is as naive as she wants everyone to believe or if it's all a disguise. And to be honest, I think I just learned the truth.

My main objective for being here wasn't to protect the girl. And now? It's all I can fucking think of.

And I don't even know the girl.

I tell myself it means nothing—my need to watch over her more closely than I was hired to do. I do that because I can't stand the guilt I feel when I look at her for too long. I know it isn't right, but, fuck, it's hard to stop.

There was a fear in her eyes when I covered her mouth as I had her pressed against the wall. She was scared of me. And how the fuck can I blame her? She should be scared of me. In her eyes, I'm a monster, just like everyone else here.

I cursed my dick when it twitched in my jeans, simply from feeling her lips on my palm. I wanted to punish her for being that stupid, thinking she could waltz right into that room. Her wide eyes looked up at me, eating me alive.

She's not nearly as helpless as she makes herself out to be. To what degree though? I guess that's for me to find out.