Page 103 of Captive Ruin

His lips twitch. “No, Princess, you may not.”

“Amelia,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m not your goddamn princess.”

“And I’m not your slave. Act like an Amelia, and I’ll call you Amelia.”

Damn him!

I storm past, heading for the front door. I need space, and I need time to think.

Fortunately, it’s not locked, otherwise I’d be smashing a window and climbing out.

I step into the cool fall air, immediately wishing I’d worn more clothing. The cold hits, raising goosebumps on my arms and killing some of my anger, but I’m not turning back for a coat, not with Tony dogging my footsteps.

The lawn stretches before me, luscious green and cut in neat lines, but the grass glitters with dew. My boots would be soaked in minutes. Down by the gate is the guard, and he’s armed. I veer away when I see him.

“Perimeter security,” Tony supplies from behind me. “There are two of them on duty at all hours.”

“Whatever,” I mutter. One prison guard or three doesn’t make any difference.

The driveway becomes a path just past the house, and I follow it, Tony’s footsteps echoing mine six paces behind. I clench my hands into fists, knowing I’m stuck with him.

Wherever I go, there’ll be no solitude, and that strikes me hardest of all. The isolation of it, the loss of freedom, of agency. No phones, no goddamn privacy. What does Van Wyk plan to do with me?

A hundred yards on there’s another building, easily the size of a normal four-bedroom house. At first, I think it’s guest accommodation or something, then I notice the distinctive garage doors. Three of them.

Where there are cars, there’s a way out. I try one of the garage doors. Locked. I know Tony is watching me, probably amused as hell, and I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying the others.

Frustrated, I turn away, following the path that runs down past the house. Ahead, there’s a swimming pool with a blue safety cover, a pool house beside it, and a patio with a barbecue setup inside a pergola. It’s an amazing home, but a gilded prison is still a prison.

I stop on the side of the pool, blinking back tears, glaring helplessly at the woods in the distance.

Tony walks up beside me. “Do you want to go swimming?”

I scoff. “In this weather?”

“It’s heated.”

Of course it is.

“No suit.”

“There are some in the pool house.”

“Or I could just swim naked,” I say, sarcastically.

His lips quirk in a wry smile. “I’d rather you didn’t. Lukas would probably kill me for looking at you.”

Now I’m half tempted to. “Then don’t look.”

“I have to look,” he replies seriously. “I can’t be your bodyguard if I’m not watching you.”

That earns him another scoff. “What exactly are you guarding me from?” I gesture at the expansive grounds, the beautiful house, the peace and quiet of it all. “Are the earthworms around here so dangerous?”

He stares at me, unblinking, and says nothing.

But I want to fight.

I get right up into his face. “You’re not my bodyguard,” I say scathingly. “You’re my jailer.”