Chapter 2 No. 2

Nora POV

The scalding water beat against my shoulders, washing away the grime of the six-hour drive, but it did nothing to ease the knot of anxiety in my chest.

I stood under the spray longer than necessary, letting the steam fill the glass enclosure. I closed my eyes, trying to reset my nervous system. Keep him in the house. Three months. Collect the check. Save Mom. Go home.

But Abigail's words echoed in the steam.

He breaks them. He finds their weakest spot and he digs his fingers in until they bleed.

I turned off the water and stepped out onto the marble floor, reaching blindly for my towel. I wrapped it tightly around my body and wiped the condensation from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, pale and exhausted.

I pushed open the bathroom door and padded out into the dark bedroom. The storm outside was violent now, the wind howling against the glass, flashes of lightning illuminating the room in stark, white bursts. The air was cool against my damp skin. I walked toward my open suitcase on the bed, reaching down to unzip it and grab my nightgown.

A floorboard creaked directly behind me.

I froze. My hand hovered over the zipper. The air in the room shifted. It no longer smelled of the lavender soap from the shower. It smelled of rain, expensive cologne, and whiskey.

I slowly turned around.

Sprawled across the velvet armchair in the corner of my room, partially shrouded in shadows, was a man.

He was tall, with long legs clad in dark trousers and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. One hand dangled over the armrest, holding a crystal glass filled with amber liquid.

His eyes, a piercing, icy green, were fixed directly on me.

He didn't look startled. He didn't look away. He just took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, his gaze dragging down the length of my towel-clad body.

"Who the hell are you?" he drawled. His voice was a low, mocking baritone that vibrated in the quiet room.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I clutched the towel tighter to my chest, backing up until my spine hit the wall. "Get out!"

The man didn't flinch. He just tilted his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You're in my room."

"I am not! This is the east corridor!" I backed up against the wall, my hand blindly searching for the doorknob.

"Right," he murmured, though he didn't sound convinced. He swirled the whiskey in his glass. "My mistake. I suppose I'm a little disoriented. I'm Jace."

My blood ran cold. The wildfire.

"I don't care who you are," I said, my voice shaking. "You need to leave. Right now."

Jace stood up slowly. He was impossibly tall. He set his glass down on the side table with a soft clink and walked toward me. His movements were predatory, like a wolf circling a wounded deer.

"Relax," he whispered, stopping just a foot away from me. He was close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. He smelled like a distillery and bad decisions. "My parents hired a babysitter," he said, the word dripping with disgust. "And they picked a pretty little thing, didn't they?"

"Stay away from me," I warned, my voice trembling.

"Or what?" He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my face. "You'll tell my parents? They're on a jet to Europe, sweetheart. There's no one here to save you."

"I'm not afraid of you," I lied.

"You should be." His smirk widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was something dark and hollow in his gaze. "I don't like being watched. I don't like being managed. And I especially don't like strangers sleeping in my house."

"This is my room," I said, trying to inject some authority into my voice. "Your parents assigned it to me."

"Did they?" He reached out, his fingers brushing the damp hair away from my shoulder. I flinched, but I couldn't move. "Well, maybe I'll just stay here. Keep you company."

"Abby!" I screamed, ducking under his arm and wrenching the door open. "Abby!"

I sprinted down the dark hallway, barefoot and panicked, my heart pounding in my ears. The towel flapped wildly around my thighs. The marble floor was freezing, but I barely felt it. All I felt was the sheer, terrifying panic of being cornered.

Abigail burst out of the service stairwell, a heavy brass candlestick held high like a weapon. "What is it, Miss Hayes? Are you alright?"

"He-he was in my room!" I gasped, pointing down the hall. "Jace!"

Jace strolled out of my bedroom, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He didn't look like a man who had just been caught; he looked like a man who had just won a game.

"Jace!" Abigail snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I got lost, Abby. I'm a little drunk," he said smoothly. His eyes never left my face, burning with a dark, amused intensity.

"Then go to bed!" Abigail ordered, stepping between us and shielding me with her body. "Your room is on the west wing. The one with the black door. Now, go!"

Jace held up his hands in mock surrender. He walked past us toward the grand staircase. He stopped halfway up the first flight of stairs and turned his head, looking down at me.

"Nice towel," he said softly, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "We'll talk tomorrow, Nora."

He disappeared into the shadows of the second floor.

I stood there, trembling violently, my teeth chattering.

"He's a monster," I whispered, tears of shock and frustration welling in my eyes.

"He's damaged," Abigail corrected softly, her hand resting gently on my shaking shoulder. "But you're right. He is a monster. I'm so sorry, dear. Lock your door tonight."

I walked back into my room on unsteady legs. I slammed the door shut and turned the deadbolt. For good measure, I dragged the heavy velvet armchair across the floor and wedged it under the doorknob.

I changed into my pajamas and crawled into the massive bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. The storm raged on outside, lightning flashing against the glass.

I closed my eyes, trying to force my breathing to slow down. I couldn't afford this kind of stress. I couldn't afford to forget things. I had to get a grip.

I had survived my own mind for years. I could survive a spoiled, arrogant heir.

But as I finally drifted off into a restless, uneasy sleep, I didn't know that Jace Harrington wasn't just a cruel boy in a dark room.

He was the man who would eventually steal my heart, break it into a million pieces, and leave me with a scar so deep that my mind would have no choice but to erase him completely.

And I had just walked right into his trap.