Three

Angelina’s POV

"Arnold?" Katherine's voice came from behind and I spun around.

She looked scared. No — she looked terrified.

"Vanessa and the rest are waiting for me. I will see you tomorrow," she said and practically ran back into the club without me.

Leaving me.

"This way."

A man dressed in black got out of the black car and walked toward the open door. Not the man from the balcony. Another one.

I hesitated. "I don't—"

But Katherine was gone. The club music was thumping behind me. The street was empty.

I got inside.

The drive was silent. After a few minutes, the car passed through a huge black gate. A mansion. No — a fortress. Lights everywhere. Guards.

"Where is this place?" I asked as I stepped out, my stupid heels wobbling.

"From now on, this is your home," a deep voice said.

I turned.

It was him. The man from the balcony. The one with piercing dark blue eyes, black hair. He was even taller up close. An aura that made my knees weak.

"Marco will take you to your room," he said, already walking toward the huge building.

"I have a home," I said. I don't think he heard me.

I started walking behind him, but the heels — God, I don't know why I agreed to wear them — I slipped. A sharp pain shot through my foot.

I hissed, tears blurring my eyes. I bent to take them off.

"You need help?" A different voice.

Deep. Serious. Cold but not as cold as his.

My eyes involuntary followed him. He was almost out of sight.

My gaze finally shifted to the other direction.

He was holding a cigarette between his fingers, staring down at me coldly.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room." He crushed the cigarette under his boot. "This way."

"After you," he said.

I picked my heels up from the floor, barefoot.

"I don't mind carrying you," he said.

I stopped and stared at him. "I'll manage."

I tried to walk fast, but the pain was unbearable. Before I knew it, I was scooped off my feet.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, clutching his black jacket.

"Stopping you from wasting my time," he chuckled.

We stepped into the mansion. I couldn't help but look — the inside was as beautiful as the outside. Marble, chandeliers, paintings. But I couldn't stare long because he was walking fast.

Up the stairs, through a long hallway, he twisted a doorknob and pushed a door open.

"We're here." He placed me on a huge bed. "I'll get you something for your feet."

Now I could see his face clearly. Not bad looking. But scary.

"Where is this place?" I asked as he turned to leave.

"What did he tell you?" he asked back.

"He just told me to get into his car."

"And you did?" He stared at me like I was stupid. And maybe I was.

I didn't know him. But I got in because Katherine seemed to know him. "I did because Katherine seemed to know him," I explained.

He nodded once. "You trust Katherine?"

I didn't know. But I thought I did.

"I'll be back." He left without another word.

I tried to get up, but a sharp pain shot through my foot. "Goodness."

The door opened a few seconds later. He was back with an ointment.

"I'll help you apply it." He knelt, took my foot gently and placed it on his lap.

"You have soft skin," he said.

I pulled my foot back instantly.

"You don't have to be afraid. I'm a man, not an animal," he chuckled, pulling it back gently. He applied the ointment carefully.

He placed my foot down when he was done. "Rest." He left the ointment on the bedside table.

"Can I leave tomorrow?"

He chuckled, hand on the door. "Let's wait till tomorrow." He shut the door.

Goodness, why was this happening?

I looked around the room. It wasn't bad. The mattress was the softest I'd ever felt.

I don't know how, but I fell asleep quickly.

When I opened my eyes, morning light was streaming through open curtains.

I stepped down. My foot hurt less.

I smiled and walked to the window to close it. Then I froze.

Down below, the man from last night was getting out of his car. Same black suit. Same crazy aura. Arnold.

Why was I here?

I remembered Katherine whispering his name like a prayer.

"Miss Davis, breakfast is ready." I jumped, turning from the window.

"No, I won't eat. I'm leaving right now." I grabbed my heels and rushed out.

I ran down the stairs — and came face to face with him.

Arnold.

He didn't seem surprised. He walked toward me with slow steps.

"Where are you going?" he asked. Something about his voice made me speechless. I stepped back until my back hit the couch.

"Don't you like it here?" he asked, stopping right in front of me.

I bit my bottom lip. Was he going to keep me here against my will?

"What did I tell you last night?" he asked.

I frowned, staring into his dark blue eyes. "If you've forgotten, I don't mind repeating it."

My back was against the couch. No way out. Heart pounding.

"I just want to go home," I whispered.

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping.

"This is home, Angel."