Page 11 of Beautiful Ruins
“You’re quite observant.”
“That’s kidnapping.”
“I call it self-preservation.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it—short, sharp, edged with hysteria.“You havegotto be kidding me.”
His mouth curved in a way I wouldn’t exactly call friendly.
“Sit,” he demanded, nodding toward the chair by the window.
I didn’t move.
Something flickered in his expression—not annoyance or anger.Possibly curiosity.His brow lifted just slightly, like I’d surprised him again.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he pointed out.“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up.”
“Wow,” I glared.“You should put that on a welcome sign.”
One corner of his mouth twitched.“You have a mouth on you.”
“You kidnapped me,” I shot back.“You don’t get polite outta me, buddy.”
He watched me for another long beat, eyes dragging over me the same way mine had over him earlier.Not leering.Assessing.Like he was mapping pressure points instead of curves.
Then he stepped fully into the room.
And closed the door behind him.
Theotherdoor.
The click was soft.Final.
It landed uncertainly in my chest, a reminder that I hadn’t been locked away so much ascontained.The door I’d been fighting wasn’t an exit at all—it was something else entirely.
He must have seen the confusion flicker across my face, because he lifted a hand and pointed to the doorway behind him, eyes never leaving mine.
“That one leads to the rest of the house.”
Then he lifted his gaze—just slightly—and indicated the door I’d been wrestling with moments earlier.
“And that,” he said, pointed enough to make my stomach drop, “leads to my room.I thought it best to lock it.For my own safety.”
His lip curved into something small and amused, like he enjoyed the irony.
The truth settled in slowly.
It wasn’t just a locked door.It was an interconnecting one.To his room.
The realization locked low and hot in my stomach, fear and awareness tangling together in a way I didn’t like—but couldn’t ignore.
Without him taking a single step closer, the space between us tightened, charged with something sharp and electric.When his gaze locked onto mine again, there was no mistaking it—whatever game he thought we were playing, I’d already stepped onto the board.
“Who do you work for?”he growled.
I blinked.Then I laughed.
I laughed with everything I had—head tipping back, breathless, disbelieving, the sound bouncing off the walls like he’d just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
