My eyes are closed, though I’ve been awake for hours.

I hear Damien moving around in the room. A few minutes later, the moving stops, and I feel his eyes on my face. It’s a struggle to keep my eyeballs from moving behind the lids. The commotion starts again.

A few seconds later, the shower is running. I resist the urge to open my eyes immediately. What if it’s a trick and he’s still in the room? No way. If he were in front of me, I would feel it. His presence is too strong for me not to notice.

My eyes are heavy as I open them. I barely got any sleep last night, so that’s not a surprise. I’ll have a few moments to myself before he returns to the room—time enough for me to gather the courage to ask for more freedom. If he lets me out of the room, out into the garden, I might be able to find a way to escape.

There’s no way he’ll let me out on the grounds alone, or to roam around his mansion unaccompanied. Adrian would probably remain a few steps away from me. But what if Adrian was distracted by something else? No one can stay focused every single second. Minds wander all the time. I’ll worry about how to distract him later. The first step is to get through the thickest wall of all, through the devil himself.

He’s humming a tune. A chill trickles down the back of my neck when I recognize it: Here comes the bride. He’s in some kind of wedded bliss. Last night was as close to a honeymoon as he could get. When the water stops running and I see him reach for a towel, I shift my weight and turn to face the other side of the bed, eyes closed. He’d love it if I saw him naked again. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.

He enters the room. I hear every muted step on the wood and then the carpet. The hairs at the nape of my neck bristle. His eyes are on me again.

A door opens. Apart from the door to the hallway, there’s one leading to the walk-in wardrobe. He’s still humming the tune under his breath as he slides drawers in and out.

The rustle of clothes, the clink of a belt buckle, the snap of a watch being closed: These are the sounds I rely on to tell me at what stage of dressing he is. He returns to the room and sinks down on my side of the bed, right next to me. His cologne curls around me, a blend of roasted coffee and citrus.

“I know you’re awake.” His words are unable to conceal his smile. “Aren’t you going to wish your husband a good morning?”

I purse my lips and open my eyes. No use in pretending. Thank God he’s dressed.

The tie is still hanging down his chest, waiting to be tied, and a pair of square cuff links with black enamel inserts and polished brass frames remain unfastened. His body is fully clothed. He greets me with a smile that looks so real, so loving, it would fool anyone but me. But my heart still bleeds when I think about what could have been.

What if all this had never happened? What if he had been released from prison as a truly innocent person, and we entered into a real relationship? Would we have stayed together for the long haul, overcome any obstacles? Would we have married and had kids? Would he have held our babies the way he had held Leon in the garden?

Sadness tears at my heart when I think of Leon. I miss him, but I have to forget him. He did what he came to do: offer me something to hold on to in my personal storm. Now he’s gone, and I have to use the strength he gave me to focus on what’s most important.

“Good morning, Damien.” I force a smile. In order to make a connection, I have to stop fighting him. I have to create trust. There’s no way he’ll let me out of this room otherwise. For the first time since my kidnapping, it dawns on me that the ball really is in my court. “Did you sleep well?”

Damien hesitates before responding. “I... Yes, the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.” He reaches for my hand. I resist the urge to pull away.

“Good.” My voice comes out choked. Left with nothing else to say, I stare at our hands, his fingers woven through mine.

“How about you?” he asks.

“Me too. I slept well.” This lie comes easy.

He leans forward, kisses my forehead. “That makes me glad. I look forward to many more nights with you.”

Not if I have something to do with it.

Silence falls and crackles between us as he puts on his cuff links.

“Have you heard anything about Leon?”

He looks up, a line etched between his eyebrows. “I called to check up on him yesterday. From what I hear, he’s settling in well with the new family.” He pauses. “You don’t have to worry about him.”

“I miss him.” Talking about Leon is a step toward putting us on the same wavelength. His eyes tell me he also bonded with the baby.

“I do too.” He starts tying his tie, eyes fixed on the window. “Would you have wanted to keep him?”

“I… no…”

“I got the impression that you fell in love with him. You were pretty upset when he left.”

Beads of sweat pop up on my nose. “Yes, yes. Sure, I was upset. But I’m not ready to be a mom.” This conversation has to die immediately. Throwing Leon into the mix again will complicate my escape plans.

He chuckles. “No need to panic. You were an exceptional substitute mom, but I agree with you. We should enjoy married life a little first before starting a family.”

That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I’m relieved nevertheless. I give him a nod and swipe my nose with the back of my hand. I have to make him believe I want to go along with his sick plans.

He rises to his feet. “We’ll both be ready in a year or two. That’s more than enough time to wait, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” The simple word is like a poisonous pill on my tongue.

“Perfect.” He disappears back into the wardrobe and exits with a charcoal suit jacket over his arm.

I sit up quickly, pulling the covers up to my neck to cover my semi-nakedness. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting with some business partners.” He walks over to the bed and kisses me on the lips. “I’m sorry we can’t have breakfast together. But I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Damien.” I bite my lip. “Do you mind if I go out into the garden for some air?”

A cloud settles over his features. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t have you leaving the room when I’m not here.”

“I’ve been having headaches, and I know some fresh air will help.”

He glances at the door and then at the windows. “I have a better idea.” He walks over to the windows, pulls a key from his pocket, and inserts it into a keyhole. He extracts it and slides the windows open. The stream of fresh air that drifts in is intoxicating, but it’s not enough to satisfy me.

I hold my breath, waiting for him to open the bars as well. My heart falls when he turns around and pushes the key back into his pocket. “There, plenty of fresh air. I’ll have Hanna bring up a painkiller with your breakfast.”

I deflate back against the pillows. “Thanks.” I’m seething inside, but I can’t rock the boat. My earlier resistance got me nowhere.

“See you later, my angel.” He places a fluffy bathrobe on the bed for me and kisses me on the lips once more. Then he leaves me with nothing but a long, empty day ahead filled with shattered plans.

The first thing I do after breakfast is run my hands along the bars at the windows to see if there’s some way they can be opened.

“Can I be of assistance, Mrs. Steel?” A voice interrupts me. “Is there a problem?”

I jump away from the windows. “No, Adrian, everything’s fine.”

Damn cameras. I forgot about them.

I’m about to sit down on the bed when I change my mind and head to the door. I lean my body against it. I could try and reach out to Adrian again, pull him into a conversation.

But that might backfire. For one, like last time, he might not take the bait out of loyalty to his boss. Plus, the cameras are still running. It’s too easy for Damien to find out what I’ve been up to. And that could destroy the tiny bit of progress I’ve made, burn the fragile bridge between us. Things would definitely get worse after that.

I have to come up with another plan. No matter what it takes, I’m getting out of this damn prison.

An hour later, an idea sneaks into my mind—something so twisted I want to throw up. There’s one way to get him to let his guard down and trust me. I’ll give him what he wants, and in return, I hope to get what I want.

The price of freedom had never been so high.