LONDON'S POV
He came to bed late again tonight, after working downstairs with Ariel and the rest of their team. This time, I didn't pretend to be asleep.
He walked in and loosened his tie, catching my gaze. With a seductive look, he removed his clothes one by one and let them fall to the floor. First the tie, then the shirt. He unfastened his belt and folded it between his hands as if testing its tension. Then he took off his pants.
I stared at his nearly naked body and hated how instantly aroused I became. For a criminal, he had smooth, unmarked skin. His muscles shifted and rolled with every movement, a physical embodiment of power. He wasn't massive like Dunbar, but his long, lean frame suggested strength—and speed.
He kicked off his shoes and socks before resting a hand on the waistband of his boxer briefs.
I knew I shouldn't look.
I didn't even know why I was staring.
His brown eyes radiated desire and confidence bordering on arrogance. He lowered his underwear just enough to reveal his erection, the tip darker than the rest of him. Then he tossed the fabric aside and approached the bed, fully aware that he had my complete attention.
He slipped into bed beside me and placed one arm beneath his head. The sheet rose over his hips, outlining his aroused form beneath it.
Without even trying, he looked like the man women dreamed about. Masculine, powerful, and irresistibly attractive. He slept in a castle inherited through noble blood.
He truly was a king.
He turned his head toward me.
"Like what you see, Pretty Girl?"
I didn't bother lying.
It was obvious that he attracted me.
But no matter how strong my desire was, I wasn't going down that road. I respected myself too much, and my longing for freedom had never weakened. I couldn't let physical attraction make me forget what mattered most.
I might not be able to stop him from tempting me, but at least I could stop myself from taking the first step.
"I'm tired..."
I yawned and turned away, trying to ignore the persistent ache between my thighs.
He switched off the bedside lamp and chuckled.
"As you wish, Pretty Girl. But very soon, you'll give me exactly what I want."
My heart sped up.
"What does that mean?"
"You'll find out tomorrow morning."
Then he fell silent, refusing to explain further.
I didn't take his threat lightly.
He had power, money, and authority. He could do almost anything.
I didn't know what he was planning, but I fully intended not to be around tomorrow to find out.
---
I focused on his breathing, studying it to determine which stage of sleep he was in. I couldn't move until he was deeply asleep.
When his breathing became slow and steady, I slipped out of bed and put on the sneakers Dunbar had packed in my bag.
I was wearing black leggings and a T-shirt—not exactly ideal escape clothing, but it would have to do.
I crossed the room and carefully opened the door. Thankfully, it didn't creak despite its age.
I stepped into the hallway and checked both directions.
No guards.
The dark-red carpet stretched beneath crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
I crept along the wall, listening for the slightest sound.
At the end of the corridor, I peeked toward the staircase.
Still no one.
I descended on tiptoe and immediately spotted the enormous front doors.
Dunbar stood in front of one of them, dressed entirely in black. He was staring at his phone, probably playing a game to pass the time.
Damn.
That route was impossible.
I headed back upstairs and took another hallway leading toward the bedrooms.
As I passed the first room, I heard a woman moaning and a bed frame creaking.
For a brief moment, I thought about Crewe—and what we might have been doing right now if I hadn't left.
Stop it.
I needed to get out.
I took one corridor after another until I became hopelessly lost in the enormous castle.
Eventually, I reached a large window overlooking part of the estate.
From what I could tell, I was on the opposite side of the property, above a courtyard surrounded by rose gardens.
The staircases seemed to lead only to the main entrances, which were undoubtedly guarded.
I had years of mountain-climbing experience.
Maybe I could go down the outside.
I was on the third floor.
Dangerous.
But worth the risk.
None of the windows opened, so I slipped into a corner bedroom.
Fortunately, it was empty.
Even better—it had a balcony.
I locked the door behind me.
The balcony sat above part of the roof. The only way down was by gripping the stonework.
It was reckless.
If I fell, I'd probably break several bones.
Deep inside, I heard Crewe's warning.
If I tried to escape and failed, there would be consequences.
Serious consequences.
I could turn back.
Or I could keep going and pray.
I had to leave.
I swung my legs over the edge and began climbing down slowly, wedging my fingers into cracks in the stone.
Within minutes, my skin burned.
Sweat poured down my body.
I gritted my teeth and kept moving.
I was halfway down when I heard shouting.
"Find her!"
Crewe's terrifying voice echoed across the courtyard.
Damn.
I looked down and realized I could make it—but not if I kept moving slowly.
I had to jump.
Taking a deep breath, I let go.
I hit the grass and rolled.
Pain shot through my joints, but I was alive.
Flashlights immediately burst from windows and balconies.
Angry voices followed.
I had to run.
I sprinted across the courtyard toward the trees, my heart pounding so hard it felt ready to explode.
My footsteps thundered across the ground.
Just reach the tree line.
Once inside the woods and up in the highlands, I could hide until they gave up.
"There's the little bitch!"
Dunbar's flashlight locked onto my shoulder.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
I ran faster.
Being trapped on Fair Isle had ruined my endurance. Before leaving New York, I had been in excellent shape from spending all day racing around the hospital.
Now I wasn't.
But I kept going.
"Over here!"
Dunbar's voice was terrifyingly close.
I wasn't going to make it.
Still, I refused to quit.
I crossed the tree line and pushed deeper into the wilderness.
Darkness surrounded me.
The moonlight wasn't enough to guide my path.
I knew I couldn't outrun Dunbar.
I needed to hide.
Spotting a large tree, I planted my feet and climbed.
I hauled myself upward, ignoring splinters digging into my palms.
Higher.
Higher.
Until the branches became too thin to support any more weight.
Then I stayed perfectly still.
Maybe I'd get lucky.
Maybe.
Dunbar's voice came far too close for comfort.
"She's hiding. Probably in a tree."
Damn.
Flashlights appeared everywhere.
A dozen men spread through the area, sweeping beams across trees and bushes.
Heavy boots crushed the grass below.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I clung to the branch.
I wasn't getting away.
Soon I'd face whatever punishment Crewe had planned.
Fear tightened around me.
Dunbar stopped at the base of my tree.
I could see his broad silhouette below.
Then he raised the flashlight.
The beam landed directly on me.
I heard the smile in his voice.
"Got you."
Every shred of hope left me.
Dunbar put two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.
"She's up here, boys."
There was nowhere left to run.
"I can climb up and drag you down if I have to," he called. "But it'll be easier if you come down yourself. There's nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. And the boss will be here any second."
Tears stung my eyes.
I wanted freedom so badly.
I wanted to be treated like a human being again.
I wanted to walk into the coffee shop on my street, feel the sun on my face, and live without fear.
I missed all of it.
"So what's it gonna be?" he barked.
I had no other plan.
Instead of delaying the inevitable, I climbed down.
Branch by branch.
Slowly.
Until my feet touched the grass.
The second I landed, Dunbar grabbed me by the neck and slammed me to the ground.
"Don't move."
This time, I obeyed.
The men surrounded me with their flashlights.
Then the group parted.
Making way for their leader.
Their king.
He approached slowly, a dark and threatening figure.
His anger was tangible.
Terrifying.
The seductive man was gone.
The dictator had returned.
He knelt in front of me, illuminated by the circle of flashlights.
His brown eyes were cold and merciless.
He didn't need to say anything.
His stare was intimidating enough.
"What. Did. I. Say?"
His voice was barely above a whisper, yet filled with menace.
Suddenly his hand shot out and closed around my throat.
Harder than ever before.
He squeezed until I couldn't breathe.
The worst part was that I couldn't even blame him.
He had warned me.
I had taken the risk anyway.
I should have studied the grounds first.
I should have memorized the castle's layout.
But when I thought about what awaited me, I panicked.
His grip tightened.
Cutting off my air completely.