Deceived (Burned Book 2) Page 15
"Human?" His eyes widened. Shock blanketed his face into a pale mask.
Shit.
Chapter Twenty
"Arabella, have you paid attention to a word I've said?" Alejandro's brisk words were emphasized by the sharp rap of his hand banging against my desk.
I jerked as I was yanked into the present with a gasp.
"No. I mean no disrespect." I ran a shaky hand through my hair, the tangles catching on my fingers. "I'm overtired I guess."
That was an understatement. Exhausted was more like it.
I hadn't slept in two days. The last conversation with Zak replayed on a loop. The shock in his eyes as the slip I'd always feared had happened, and with the worst possible person.
Alejandro sighed heavily and walked around my desk. He perched on the edge, searching my weary eyes. The seriousness in his gaze didn't concern me as much as the hint of worry in their depths.
His hand, cool and heavy like a block of stone, rested on my shoulder. "Arabella. Go home."
For the briefest of moments hope flared to life in my chest. Home as in…
"I'll call someone to draw you a bath. Take the rest of the day off work." His fingers slid down my arms until he entwined them with mine, the gesture soothing until the fledgling hope crashed into pieces at my feet.
He meant my condo, not leaving the House. Of course he wouldn't mean that. It was stupid of me to consider it, dangerous even.
"Sure," I croaked, unable to say anything more.
I shoved my files into a pile in my briefcase, their haphazard placement would need to be sorted out or I'd have a mess on my hands. His hand stilled my rushed movements.
"What?" I frowned. My troubled thoughts kept me unfocused. How could I have screwed up like that? Four years. Four years without a misstep.
"Go home. Your assistant can do that for you." An almost gentle smile crept onto his face. The smile lightened his features and formed a latticework of lines around his eyes. My heart fluttered as I was reminded of the old Alejandro. The one I'd met and fallen in love with. Softer and kinder than the reality of what stood before me.
"You're right." I abandoned my desk, a sudden desperation to flee washing over me.
"I'll be by after work." He brushed his dry lips against my cheek and straightened, his gaze distant. His mind had already dismissed me, returning to the work he treasured above everything.
The short elevator ride to my condo did nothing to improve my mood. I closed my eyes as I leaned against the mirrored panels, unable to stand the accusations staring back at me.
Four years and I'd said nothing. It was paramount to suicide if permission wasn't granted. What was I going to do?
"Welcome, Miss Arabella." Claudie, one of the water fey that worked in hospitality, was waiting in my condo. "Master Alejandro suggested a mani-pedi after your bath."
It was just like him to think that a little pampering would fix everything. A soothing bath wouldn't wash away my guilt; a coat of polish would do nothing to cover my growing disquiet.
"That'll be great, Claudie." I wanted to collapse on my bed and burrow under the covers, lose myself in the yards of soft fabric.
Instead I pulled off my Louboutins and stripped my suit from my weary body, leaving it where it fell. The pile of expensive fabric on the floor caught and held my gaze. That's all it was really—fabric. Fabric that cost more than what most people made in a month.
I should pick it up before it wrinkles. But I took perverse pleasure in leaving it heaped on the floor.
I slipped my emerald robe around my shoulders, the silky fabric caressing my skin. I walked into the bathroom, my senses overwhelmed by the scent of lavender. Steam coated the mirrors, my reflection nothing more than a shapeless green and red blob floating across the room.
"Would you like a massage before your mani-pedi?" I jumped, startled by Claudie's sudden reappearance. Damn sneaky fey.
"Yes, that will be fine." She left to prepare the living room for a decadent spa experience, one that many would give their left hand for. One that I could get anytime I wanted.
Pain radiated from my chest. I struggled to draw air in my lungs as panic clawed its way up my throat.
I wanted out.
I knelt on the cold tile and cradled my head in my hands. Painful sobs racked my body.
Spa treatments wouldn't fix this. The millions of dollars that sat unused in my bank account wouldn't do anything. I was trapped.
Trapped in a cage I'd walked into. My desire for a different life, a better life, had led me here. I wanted everything. I was willing to sacrifice my morals, my oath, my friends. For what?
Money?
A new luxury car every couple of years?
Designer clothes?
A life of prestige?
Was any of it worth it?
No.
If I could leave, if I could walk away today without anyone else getting hurt—getting killed—I'd do it. Even if it meant leaving everything behind and starting over.
I would do it.
But leaving meant more than just sacrificing all the money and power, it meant sacrificing my life. Maybe more if Alejandro suspected my feelings for Zak.
I couldn't live with myself if I cost another friend his life.
Lifting my head, I drew in a deep breath. Resolve filled me, straightening my spine.
I was used to making tough decisions.
I wiped my tears. The wetness trailed behind in dark green streaks on my silk robe.
I could do it.
Because there wasn't another choice.
Yet.
***
A hesitant knock, faint even in the vastness of my bathroom, broke through my repose as I relaxed against the edge of the tub. The water had just begun to cool, its tepidness the only sign that time had passed.
"Yes?"
The door clicked open. Claudie's brown hair inched through the exposed space. "Do you need anything, Miss Arabella?"
I strained to hear her voice.
"I'm ready to get out."
The fey glided to the side of the huge bathtub, a towel stretched between her arms. She waited patiently for me to rise.
Such a well-trained servant. How long would she stand there waiting? Would she wait until her arms shook with strain? Until the large towel became so heavy that pain shot through her arms and she was forced to lower them?
What would her punishment be? Was she as trapped here as I was?
I stared at her with new eyes.
She looked human. Her mousy brown hair and eyes were nondescript, plain. She wore her hair in an elaborate braid, revealing a delicate bone structure and chiseled features. Her chin was sharp and pointed. The combination was not eye catching; she'd probably blend in easily. At least by appearance.
The fey had their own unique challenges, a water fey more so than others in an urban setting. They needed to sleep at least one night a week in water to rejuvenate themselves. I've heard that was when they transform into their true form, but who knew what the truth was. The fey were secretive. They tended to keep to themselves unless necessary.
I watched Claudie's arms begin to tremble, her pleasant empty mask of patience never wavering.
I shot out of the now cool water, gratefully allowing her to wrap the soft fuzzy towel around my chilled body.
"I can dry myself." I tugged the towel from her hands.
"Yes, miss."
I almost expected her to curtsy. I'd been forced to get used to the constant referral to my title. The fey who worked for the House—or maybe all fey for all I knew—tossed about the misses, misters, and masters, like leaves tumbling from the northern trees in the autumn.
"I'll wait at the massage table. It's prepared in the living room." Her soft footsteps led to the bathroom door. "I took the liberty of adding the same lavender oil from the bathwater to your massage blend."
"That's fine, Claudie."
This time she did curtsy as she left, escaping quickly and sil
ently.
By the time we'd moved onto the mani-pedi I was barely awake. Claudie was a master at bodywork. My limbs were loose and limp by the time she was finished. All the tension released under her skillful hands.
As she finished the final topcoat on my nails, Alejandro arrived. He walked through my condo as if he owned it—which he did. I was so relaxed that even my usual storm of conflicting emotions was at rest.
"Feeling better, my dear?"
"Mmm-hmmm," I mumbled.
His deep chuckle rolled through me, sparking a once familiar warmth.
I smiled, unable to resist his good mood.
"These will be dry in less than a minute." Claudie snapped her case shut, the bottles of polish clinking against each other. The resulting sound reminded me of wind-chimes.
"Thank you, Claudie." The habitual words slipped unnoticed from my lips.
Claudie frowned, her eyebrows drew low across her eyes which flashed with fire.
Mine widened as I realized what I'd done.
Shit.
"I'm sorry, Claudie." I rushed to apologize, waving my hand in a dismissing gesture. "Please forgive me. I was so relaxed I forgot myself."
I swallowed the bile that threatened.
"I apologize for my thoughtless words. I appreciate everything you've done for me. Do you accept my plea?" The formal words, those that I'd been taught to say for mishaps like this, slipped from my lips as I'd practiced long ago, but rarely had cause to use.
"I accept." The dull expression crept back into her tired eyes. "You've never given me cause to question your appreciation before." She nodded her head in a simple bow, then turned and did the same to Alejandro.
"Master, if it pleases you I shall take my leave?"
"You may, Claudie." Alejandro's smile was gentle as he turned to the water sprite. She was such a slight creature her footsteps barely registered as she left, closing the door behind her.
The click of the door was loud in the silence that followed, the sound ominous. His smile fell from his face as the fury in his eyes flamed to life. My heart beat wildly in my chest.
"How dare you," he snarled as he stalked to me, his movements faster than I could follow.
The slap, unexpected and controlled, whipped my head back. I'd have fallen to the floor if I wasn't already sitting on the couch. Pain radiated from my face, shooting down my neck and back. My hand cradled my cheek. From the heat left behind I knew it would leave a mark.
"It was thoughtless." The shaky assertion rushed out. I hung my head, shamed that I'd almost offended the kind fey so horribly. "I don't know why I forgot."
"You never—never—say thank you to a fey. Never!" he shouted, the veins bulging on his neck. Redness colored his features as his chest heaved with rage. "It is one of the first lessons I taught you."
"I know." Tears squeezed from my eyes, as my whole face throbbed with pain. "I'm sorry." I trembled on the couch and waited for the next blow.
"Your reckless words could have cost me dearly," he spat. "As my consort you are expected to be an extension of me. The damage something like that could have done." He snarled and drove his fingers through his hair. "We could be beholden to a fey for some stupid slip like that. Or worse."
A sob caught in my throat, I swallowed it along with any protest. I hadn't meant to do it, but I was not in a position that allowed such accidents.
My earlier stumble with Zak had me biting my tongue. I would never be forgiven for a mistake like that. My heart sank.
"I knew you'd been having a difficult time lately. I had this nice evening planned." He scoffed, lifting his nose in the air. "But then you had to go and ruin it." He glared at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm done for the evening. I expect to see you in the office in the morning. Over," he flailed his hands in front of me, "whatever it is that is going on with you. Get over it." Brown eyes flashed fire as they bore into me. "Or else."
The slamming of the door was so loud the pictures on the wall rattled; one fell to the floor in a shatter of glass.
I stay rooted to the spot. The only sound was my labored breathing as I struggled to stave off the returning panic.
Oh, God. I needed to get out.
Before he killed me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I should have canceled. I should have made up some excuse not to attend.
My heart raced as we inched closer to the Straz Center, the traffic heavy for the highly anticipated charity gala.
A heaviness surrounded me, weighed me down. My anxiety was almost a tangible thing, as if I could reach out at just the right moment and feel it glide through my fingers.
"We should have brought the limo." Alejandro's scowl deepened the feeling of doom that settled around me.
"The limo is pretentious. I hate it." I struggled to keep my voice light but strong.
"I think it speaks of our station."
"You would." I bit my lip but it was too late, the words slipped out before I could stop them.
Alejandro narrowed his eyes at my misstep.
"You didn't have to come." I kept my eyes on his, refusing to back down.
"You're right, I didn't." His eyes flashed with something I couldn't read. The emotion flickered briefly, replaced with a practiced bored compliance. One he wore more often lately.
I struggled to keep my breathing even.
Why now? The question haunted me since he accepted my casually tossed invitation.
For the last two years he'd sent me with associates, finding the event stuffy and too sedate for his taste.
Why had he accepted this year?
I drew in a calming breath and fixed my makeup in the lighted mirror. My lipstick was a mess and needed to be reapplied. The crimson went on smooth, sliding over my lips, still plump and swollen with his earlier heated kisses. I powdered the angry bruise on my cheek, ensuring it was hidden. Angry emerald orbs caught and held their reflection.
Pull the mask on. Play the part. It's all theater, just like court.
I didn't need to remind myself that the stakes were higher than the millions I usually fought for.
Zak would be there.
Alejandro's cool hand held mine in a steely grip as the car pulled up to the Performing Arts Center, the media in a tizzy to see who would exit.
Petre, Alejandro's driver and muscle, opened the door. The flashes of the cameras were blinding, even through his considerable bulk. It only worsened when they realized it was Alejandro, the city's darling.
Our hands linked, he guided me out of the car, displaying me like a shiny toy in my Rachel Zoe backless gown. The sequined material twinkled under the bright lights.
We posed for a few pictures: the billionaire bachelor and his gorgeous companion. With Alejandro's appearance my status was reduced to nothing more than a decoration, an accessory to be worn. While Alejandro, the eligible wealthy bachelor, was regaled for his business savvy and generous philanthropy.
What would happen if they knew the real Alejandro? What he'd done to get where he was. The monster he hid beneath the smile and chiseled features.
I held onto the laughter that threatened to explode at the image. I stamped it down, the mask firmly in place.
I struggled to keep my tone polite as I answered the questions that the reporters threw at me. Most of them were about my dress and shoes as if I didn't have an important thought running through my head, as if I wasn't a successful attorney in my own right.
I hid my growing annoyance as I caught Alejandro answering questions about his charity work and his business. Not a single reporter asked him about his custom Armani. He spent more on his outfit than I did on mine, why wasn't his choice of clothing as much a focus?
An unfamiliar reporter caught me in his snare. He shoved a microphone in my face as he asked me the one question that annoyed me more than who are you wearing?
"Arabella, now that you've been a constant presence on Alejandro's arm for the last several years, do you have any plans for marriage?"
"Whether Alejandro and I have any plans of the sort is personal." I glanced and saw a light band of skin on his ring finger and smiled cruelly. "How's your divorce going?"
A collective gasp broke through the throng of reporters that were close enough to overhear. Apparently I'd hit a nerve. Good.
The reporter's eyes narrowed. "How'd you know about that?"
"I'm not some vapid arm-candy." My smile never slipped. "Don't ask me personal questions if you're not willing to answer mine."
Redness crawled up his neck and spread across his face. Fury burned in his eyes.
Alejandro's cool hand slid around my arm, resting in the crook of my elbow. His sharp nails dug in enough to hurt, but not enough to leave a mark.
"Excuse us." He smiled widely, eyes sparkling under the flash's glare. "My gorgeous date and I have a charity gala to attend." He swept forward, smiling and nodding to familiar faces. The bruising grip on my arm never lessened.
Once we were through the doors and out of earshot of reporters and the casual passerby, he turned me loose. The abrupt loss as he tore his arm from mine caused me to teeter on my four inch Choos. I struggled to regain my balance, almost knocking into a vintage playbill display.
"What was that?" he snarled. Fire replaced the facade of gentleness, only present for the benefit of the media.
I drew in a measured breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I refused to rub my aching arm. "I got a little testy with the reporter. He was getting personal."
"Don't let it happen again." A silent threat accompanied his snapped words.
Part of me wanted to demand, or what? But I wasn't stupid.
"I'm not some meek arm candy." Blowing out a harsh breath, I stared into his flashing eyes. "I got annoyed at all the airhead questions: who are you wearing, who did your makeup, your hair. Ugh." A frustrated sound escaped. "And you, you get all the insightful questions."
He said nothing, staring at me with an expectant expression. The energetic din of the party was creeping closer. We weren't here to argue, we were supposed to be supporting a bevy of organizations that did good work in our community.