ADELINE

 

"HOW CAN YOU like oldies and rap music?  They're, like, complete opposites!" Jax says, throwing his hand in the air exasperatedly, as he scrolls through my iPod playlist on the computer.

We're currently hanging out in Lucien's office, a place in the mansion that I have never had the privilege of being in before.  The fact that Jax had to punch in a key code, which he kept hidden from me, before we entered leads me to believe that I'm probably not supposed to even be in here.

But being in Lucien's office surrounded by his personal things that he considers important enough to keep under lock and key makes me feel better and closer to him somehow.

I give Jax a shrug.  "I like almost every genre of music.  Well, except country."

"Now, that is a damn shame," he says, shaking his head.  "There are some really good country songs out there."  Grinning as he continues to scroll through my playlist, he points out, "Hypnotize by The Notorious B.I.G. is right above The Four Seasons' Sherry."  His eyes grow wide as he exclaims, "Oh, my god!  And here is Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata just thrown right into the mix."

I playfully punch him in the arm.  "Hey, stop making fun of me!"

He looks at me with a serious expression and says, "I can't help it.  This is the most absurd playlist I've ever seen in my life."

I bust out laughing, and then he cracks a grin.  "You are an enigma, Adeline.  Now I know why Lucien is so intrigued by you."  He caresses his jaw with his finger and thumb as if in deep thought before he mutters, "It definitely can't be because of your taste in music."

The smile on my face slowly fades as I think about Lucien and how he's not here right now and hasn't been here for the past several hours.  Just when Jax had distracted me enough to keep Lucien from my mind, my overwhelming thoughts of panic start rushing back.

"Do you…do you think he'll be back soon?" I ask quietly.

"What?  Am I not entertaining enough for you?" he asks, gently knocking his shoulder into mine.

I smirk.  "Oh, you're definitely entertaining enough.  I just…I…"  I stop talking, because how can I even admit my true feelings right now to Jax when I'm not even sure if Lucien feels the same way about me?

"What the fuck?" Jax mutters under his breath, grabbing my attention.  I watch him minimize the iTunes window and maximize the security camera feed on the widescreen computer monitor.  The camera angle shows the foyer of the mansion where two women are scuffling.  "Is that…?"  He leans closer and says, "Shit!  That's Maria!"  He stands up quickly and tells me, "Stay put.  I'll be right back!" he says, emphasizing the last two words.

I watch him leave and hear the lock clicking in place with a beep behind him.  I'm alone in the office.  I'm alone in Lucien's office.

Using my time alone to my advantage, I look around the large room.  It's masculine and clean with a woodsy, citrusy scent that reminds me of Luc.  The chairs are all leather and dark.  In fact, the whole room is dark with wood paneling and hardwood floors.  And bright, natural light is streaming in from the large windows surrounded by expensive draperies.

My eyes flit back to the monitor where I see Jax breaking up the brawl between the two women.  He's talking to the woman, who I don't recognize; and it looks like it's going to be a long conversation.

I glance at the other camera feeds, which are smaller squares on the right, and gasp when I see one labeled "Number Seven's Room".  I instantly recognize the bedroom as being the one I originally stayed in when I first came to the island.

There are several camera angles in the small square that I'm sure can be maximized, but I don't dare click on them.  Besides, I've seen enough to know that Lucien was spying on me, observing my every move.

No wonder I always had the feeling of being watched when I first arrived.

It's because I was.

Standing quickly, I begin to pace the length of the room.  I'm not really nervous or upset…just anxious.  I don't know how I truly feel about having been spied on by Lucien this whole time, but maybe I should be more concerned about the fact that it's not freaking me out as much as it probably should.  All the weirdness with Lucien has somehow become the norm, and I guess I've come to expect the unexpected when it comes to him.

And in all honesty, if he hadn't been watching me and keeping tabs on me, he never would have saved me that day when Rafael led me away from the mansion.

Closing my eyes, I feel the queasy feeling in my stomach again, and I force myself to block the bad thoughts out.  I refuse to think about it or what happened to me.  I refuse to give that horrible monster and his terrible actions a single ounce of power over me.

Taking a deep and calming breath, I walk towards the windows to see if I can spot any movement on the airplane runway in the distance.  On my way across the room, a bright colored post-it note stuck to the corner of a tall, black file cabinet catches my eye.

The writing is definitely Lucien's, and the words he wrote on the note have my heart skipping a few beats.

Eliminate Salvatore Valenti and Giovanni Morello

I stare at the note for a long time before I jerk open the top drawer.  I know I shouldn't be snooping, but obviously Lucien has been keeping several things from me.

So it's only fair, right?

That's what I tell myself as I search through the files.  When I find nothing truly interesting other than notes about my father's business that I mostly already knew about, I close the drawer.

After checking the security cam feed one more time and seeing Jackson still talking to the unruly woman near the front of the house, I grab the handle to the second drawer and open it.

There are several manila folders all labeled by numbers — Number One through Number Seven.  I remember Lucien calling me by Number Seven the night we got into a huge fight.  That coupled with the fact that the camera feed was labeled Number Seven's Room has my curiosity piqued.

My fingers skim along the files until I reach the one labeled Number Seven.  Carefully, I pull it out and take it back to my chair.  Flipping open the cover, I stare at the first piece of paper and shudder.  All of my personal information is contained on the stark, white sheet in perfectly printed type.  My name, my height and weight, birth date, eye color, hair color, clothing sizes, shoe size and so much more.

A photo of me is paper clipped to the top right corner, and a shudder runs through me as I stare at my prone form lying unconscious on the bed that was in my room when I first arrived.  I'm covered in cuts and scrapes and dirt and wearing a thin, white nightgown.  Lucien must have taken the picture when he was in the room alone with me before I woke up.

I had no idea…

Shaking my head, I flip to the next page.  It's a string of email correspondence.  I go to the first one and read it silently.

Big Bad Wolf,

I have what you want, but it's going to cost you.  One-hundred percent pure, virgin, 5'4", around 125 pounds, beautiful with dark hair, as you requested.

You will receive the goods once I receive the cash.

And I expect her to be released once you get what you paid for.

Signed,

Supplier

I gasp, my hands shaking as I read the words over and over again.  This is an email from the man who sold me to Lucien.

It's simply signed Supplier.  But who could that be?  Who was close enough to my father to get to me, to plan this all out?

I read further, and I see where Lucien asks him to attach a picture.  Hurriedly, I flip to the next page.  In my haste, a photo flies out of the file and cascades to the floor by my feet.

My eyes go as wide as saucers as I stare at my face in the picture against the dark hardwood. 

I look happy as I smile up at the camera.  My long, dark hair is tousled from the wind as I sit with my feet in the sand at the beach.

I remember the exact moment when that picture was taken…and there is only one person who could have taken it.

And that means I know exactly who sold me.

A man who my father trusted more than anyone in the world.

A man who I trusted to keep me safe and to…love me.

"Giovanni," I gasp in horror.