Page 15 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
A wave of unpleasant shivers runs down my back, and I dig my nails into my palms.
The backs of my eyes prick, but I won’t let him see me cry. “Anything else?”
“No. Get some rest. You’ll meet the rest of the staff tomorrow at breakfast.”
“Fine.”
When the lock of the door clicks behind him, I sink to the floor and press my palms against my eyes.
Don’t cry. Do NOT cry.One day at a time.
But without my phone, there’s no outlet for the muck swirling inside. There’s nothing to get me through the night.
I drop my palms on the floor and glance around. Everything is unfamiliar, and shadows flicker in the corners of the room. A chill drifts over my arms even though all the windows are closed. Straining my ears, I try to hear Giorgio on the other side of the wall, but besides a dull footstep or two, there’s nothing.
It’s a small relief. The last thing I want to hear tonight is him reuniting with Sophia.
Eventually, I get myself off the hardwood floor and drag myself to the bathroom. At the sink, I splash some water on my face and wipe off the little makeup I have on with a wet towel. That’s as much as I have the strength to do tonight. My four-step skin care routine will have to wait for a better day.
I slip on my pajamas, crawl into bed, and flick off the lights.
The castello is silent.
Sleeping in an unfamiliar bed is like pulling on a random glove and hoping it fits. I move my body until I find a comfortable position and drag the duvet up to my chin, inhaling the scent of clean laundry. Did Sophia make my bed this morning?
An image of a slim, beautiful, dark-haired woman in a sexy maid uniform appears inside my head.
Ugh.Stop it.I have enough things to torture myself with already.
I push the image away and let my body relax into the mattress.
Then I hear the floor creak.
The sound makes me sit up. It’s close, like it’s coming from somewhere inside my room, and I glance around, my eyes adjusted to the darkness by now.
Everything is still except for the shadows. They flit across the walls, swaying and twisting, and the longer I stare at them, the more I start to see.
Wolves chasing through the woods after a small, bleating sheep. An old house with a door that swings on its hinges until someone jerks it shut. A girl on her knees, crying with her back to me, until she whips her head around and shows me her face—a bullet between her brows.
I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut.
Imogen.
An icy hand wraps around my heart. She didn’t want to go to New York. I made her come, and then I told the men who took us who she was because I was too dumb to keep my mouth shut. Things could have gone differently if I was just a little bit smarter.
Or a little bit braver.
And when Lazaro came for the second time, I could have tried to fight him off instead of waiting for Vale to save me once again. His hand was by my mouth. Why didn’t I bite him? Why didn’t I do anything but cry like a pathetic loser?
A sob catches in my throat, and I clamp my hand over my mouth. I don’t want Giorgio to hear me. I don’t want him to come storming in here and burden me with his worried eyes.
Out of habit, I reach under my pillow, looking for my phone, but it’s not there. There’s nothing to calm me, nothing to distract me from my thoughts.
Pulling up the duvet all the way to my nose, I tell myself to go to sleep, even as the room keeps creaking and shadows dance around me.
CHAPTER5
MARTINA
