Liora's POV
The bathroom was so big.
The echo of the running water sounded like a waterfall in a cave...I stripped off the pink uniform and left it in a wet heap on the heated marble floor. I hated that dress, but seeing it lie there felt like seeing a dead friend. It was the last thing that belonged to my old life.
I scrubbed my skin until it was red. I wanted the smell of the diner and the grease and the rain gone, but when I finally stepped out of the tub, I felt even more exposed.
I walked into the bedroom. The maids had left a dress on the bed. It was deep emerald silk. I touched the fabric. It was cool and felt like water. When I put it on, I realized something that made my stomach twist: it fit perfectly. They didn't just guess. They knew my height, my waist, the width of my shoulders. They had measured me before I even knew they existed.
A quiet knock sounded at the door. One of the stone-faced maids brought in a tray of food...steak, asparagus, and some kind of sparkling water. I wasn't hungry, but I ate every bite. I needed the energy. I needed to be strong for whatever "mapping" meant.
Then came the doctors. Two men in white coats who didn't tell me their names. They took my blood. They checked my heart. They looked at my teeth and my eyes. They didn't talk to me; they talked about me.
"Vitals are strong," one said.
"Cycle starts in four days," the other replied, marking a tablet.
When they finally left, the room felt even emptier. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at the stranger in the green silk. I looked like someone who belonged in this house. I looked expensive.
I looked up, scanning the ornate molding near the ceiling. I found it in the corner. A small, black dome. A camera.
My heart gave a heavy thud. He was watching.
Darian's POV
I sat in my study, the only light coming from the bank of monitors on my desk. The whiskey in my glass was untouched. I had three different feeds of the West Wing pulled up...
I watched her eat. She ate like it was a chore, her movements sharp and efficient. She didn't cry. I kept waiting for her to break, to put her head in her hands and sob for the life she'd lost.
But she just kept chewing.
Then the doctors arrived. I watched the feed as they drew her blood. Her face remained a mask of ice, but I saw her free hand. She was gripping the silk of that green dress so hard her knuckles were white. She was terrified, but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a flinch.
I liked the green on her. It made her eyes look less like mud and more like a forest...
The doctors left, and she was alone again. She stood in the center of the room, looking around. I leaned in, my chest tightening as I watched her eyes move. She was smart. She was looking for the cracks in the fortress.
Then, she looked up.
She found the lens.
On my screen, her hazel eyes became massive. She didn't look away. She didn't hide in the bathroom or turn off the lights. She stood perfectly still and stared directly into the camera. It was a silent challenge.
"Liora Hayes..."I whispered.
I felt a jolt of something that wasn't just triumph. It was heat.
Liora's POV
I didn't blink. I stared at that black eye in the ceiling and imagined I was looking right into Darian's blue ones. I wanted him to see that he could buy my time, but he couldn't buy my fear.
I stayed like that for a long minute. Then, very slowly, I walked to the bed. I pulled back the heavy covers and climbed in. The silk felt like a mockery against my skin. I reached over and clicked off the lamp.
The room went dark, except for the tiny, red glow of the camera's power light. It looked like a demon's eye in the corner.
I'm still here, Darian, I thought as I closed my eyes.
I'm still here.
Darian's POV
The screen went black and white as the infrared kicked in. I watched her lie down. I watched her chest rise and fall in the steady rhythm of someone pretending to be asleep.
She was a Hayes, alright. Stubborn to the point of suicide.
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking in the silent office.
A slow smile spread across my face. I hadn't felt this alive in years. Most people were so easy to break. They crumbled the moment the money was on the table.
But Liora?
She was going to be a masterpiece.
I picked up my glass and took a slow sip of the scotch. The burn felt good as always.
"Let the game begin, Liora," I whispered to the monitor.
I watched her until the early hours of the morning, long after her breathing finally turned heavy and real. I watched the way she curled toward the center of the bed, even in her sleep, as if she were trying to protect something.
Tomorrow, the real work would start. Tomorrow, she would learn that in this house, there are no dreams...Only requirements.
I turned off the monitor and sat in the dark.
I could still see her eyes.
