I stare at his beautiful features. The room behind him is swimming, a blur of color.
“Nights?” I squeak. “You want me to…work with you? At night?”
He chuckles, tilting his head. He’s looking at me like I’m adorable. Adorable and naive. “I think we’d work well together.”
“Like, business partners?”
“Business partners. And more.” His hand settles into the small of my back, pressing me close. Oh. I might be a virgin, but I aced my anatomy classes. And Adam is perfectly formed—in all areas.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs in my ear.
“I…don’t not want it.” Way to commit, Daphne!
Rachel was right. Adam is into me. So much he’d like to be inside me if the hardness against my stomach is any indication. “I don’t know what to say. I thought you just wanted Belladonna.”
“I do want Belladonna. The merger makes sense. But so do we.”
I swallow. Adam is looking at me expectantly, a half smile on his breathtaking face. Any other woman would swoon if she was in my shoes. So why don’t I feel happy? “What about my father?”
“What about him?” Adam tilts his head, casting half his perfect profile into shadow.
“He’s fragile right now. Won’t this be a shock?”
“We can wait, if you like. Until your father is better.”
“I-I’d like that. There’s just so much going on.” I step away, rubbing my temples. “The board, the merger. The press keeps hinting that Belladonna is on the brink of bankruptcy.” And they may be right.
“Why don’t you let me worry about all that?”
Because I’m a big girl. I don’t need a man to save me. The retort is on my tongue when the band strikes up a rousing Strauss waltz. The room swirls with dancing couples. The figures start to blur…
I touch my face, wishing I had my glasses. It’s silly, but whenever I’m stuck on a problem, I switch from contacts to glasses or vice versa. A literal new way of seeing things.
“A-Adam?”
“Yes, sweet?”
“I think I need a moment. My contacts don’t seem to be working right.” There are two of you.
“All right, Daphne. I’ll wait.” He ushers me out of the ballroom, past a duo of hulking security guards to a private hall.
I pause with my hand on the bathroom door. “I won’t be long.”
“Good girl,” Adam says, already turning away and pulling his cellphone from his pocket. Even doing something as mundane as checking his texts, he looks like a model.
I turn away, making a face. Adam’s always been a little overbearing but tonight he’s coming on strong. I need an ally. I wish Rachel was here.
The bathroom is empty and blissfully quiet. I linger a few extra moments in the dark stall before emerging to wash my hands in the marble sink. My head throbs. My hands blur.
I knew I shouldn’t have worn these contacts. So what if my glasses make me look like a nerd? I am one.
Gritting my teeth, I remove the offending lenses. There, that’s better. Now if the room would just stop spinning.
“Daphne?”
I whirl with a yelp. Armand stands in the doorway between the bathroom and the ladies parlor. I didn’t even hear him come in.
“What are you doing here?” Without my contacts, his far away features are a bit blurry, but he stands out, a dark specter in the midst of pink and white marble. “This is the ladies room!”
“And I’m the biggest queen here.” He strikes a pose. “At least until Philip Waters arrives. Are you feeling all right? Your pupils are dilated.”
“I’m…fine,” I slur, leaning back on the counter. “Drink hit me the wrong way.”
“Hmmm.” He comes closer, leaning in to study me. “You haven’t been imbibing belladonna, have you?”
“What?”
“Renaissance women took belladonna to make their pupils larger—”
“I know that,” I flap my hand. “Believe me, I know everything about belladonna the plant that there is to know. And I have not imbibed it.” I’m just feeling a wee bit queasy…
“Good. Because you’re late for a very important date.”
“With Adam?”
“Not him, you sly girl. You’ve got another secret admirer. A beast of a man.”
“What?”
“I was told to give you this.” Armand hands me a rose.
I hold it close, staring at the whorl of red petals. “Who sent this?” The rose is exactly like the one left in my office. Rosa x hybrida. I know roses—my mother made sure of that.
It can’t be a coincidence. I’m this close to knowing who my secret admirer is.
“I don’t know. Big man in a scary mask. But what I wouldn’t give to find out.” He waggles his brows.
I put a hand to my head. Is this really happening?
“He wants you to meet him in the labyrinth. Take all right turns. Oh, and he says the future of Belladonna depends on it.”
What?
There’s a knock on the door in the outer parlor. “Daphne?” comes Adam’s muffled voice.
I stiffen, clutching the rose close. Is it a bad sign that I’m so tempted to grab this lifeline Armand is offering me—or the fact that it feels like a lifeline in the first place? What’s wrong with me? Any woman here would kill to be in my place with Adam waiting on the other side of that door for her.
“Is that Adam Archer?” Armand asks. “The plot thickens.”
“He’s worried about me.” I bite my lip.
“You do look flushed. Are you sure you’re all right?”
I shake my head and hold up the mysterious rose. “Help me?”
“This way.” Armand grabs my hand, guiding me down the line of stalls, as if helping me sneak out of the ladies bathroom is the most normal thing in the world.
At the end of the bathroom is a giant gilt mirror. Armand pushes a hidden button and I gasp when it swings open a crack, revealing a tiny door.
“Never come to a party without a planned escape route,” Armand announces, pulling a key out of his jacket pocket and fitting it to the door’s lock.
“Seriously?” I gape.
“It’s New Olympus.” He shrugs. “Nothing is as it seems.”
“Thanks, Hermes,” I giggle. Tomorrow I’ll think this is all a weird dream. But right now, the champagne is really hitting me.
“Daphne?” Adam’s voice echoes, getting closer. “Are you in here?”
I should run to him. But instead, I squeeze behind the mirror, frantic to get away. “Cover me,” I mouth to Armand.
Through the looking glass I go.
Armand nods and closes the door behind me.
I step into some sort of low ceilinged hallway. It’s completely dark but I can feel around with my hands and I trust Armand not to send me towards a dead end. But this night is getting stranger by the second. I stumble on, feeling my way with my hands and find another door, this one unlocked.
It swings open and I emerge into the night air.
Four
Daphne
It’s cool outside, and gods it feels good. Strains of music float above my head. I’m at the foot of a large staircase, the twin to the one I entered at the front of the Parthenon. This one leads to a balcony where guests can gather. Unlike inside, there are no stars in this sky. But a path of tiny twinkling lights leads to my destination.
The labyrinth.
The maze is made of towering hedges, shaped into thick walls of dark green. But at least the elaborate decorations mean that standing light sconces are set up every five feet or so, so I can see in spite of the dark, moonless night. Evening mist floats along the ground.
Creepy much? I shiver and wrap my arms around the soft bark of my costume’s waist.
I look down at the rose clutched in my hand. I held it so hard in the darkness, the thorns pricked my hand and there are two dots of blood on my palm. I wipe them against the dark bark of my bodice. So much for
not getting anything on my dress. I glance down the labyrinth.
The future of Belladonna depends on it. What does that mean? Our precarious position isn’t a secret. My father is ill, leaving me at the helm. Even with the Ubeli Foundation’s generous donations, Belladonna is sucking through money. The possible merger with Archer Industries is a lifeline.
This invitation is probably a prank. Armand or Adam or someone is playing a joke.
But if it’s one of them, then that means they know the secret of the rose. My secret admirer.
I clutch the rose like a talisman and blunder forward, entering the labyrinth. Immediately, the noise and music of the party becomes muted. A shiver creeps its way up my spine at the sudden quiet.
The box hedges stand about two feet above my head on both sides and up ahead the path forks left and right. Which way to go? Then I remember what Armand said. Keep turning right. That’s easy enough to remember.
But then another shiver runs through me as I look around and stumble a little. Dang, I really should have eaten something. I blink a few times, trying to think. I giggle. Usually it’s not this hard to think. But then I frown and try hard.
Because what if it isn’t Armand or Adam? Sure Armand gave me the rose but is he really the most trustworthy? It’s not like I know the guy, not really. Am I really just going to wander blindly out into the dark to meet some stranger dangling my company’s survival out in front of my nose?
If this was a horror movie, I’d definitely be the first to die. Dumb girl walking out into the dark alone. Then again, I’m a virgin. Don’t they kill the virgins last?
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep in another hysterical giggle. Dear gods, I should just go back to the party. I stop in my tracks and look over my shoulder.
But the harder I listen, the more I actually can hear voices and the occasional laugh somewhere around me, probably others also exploring the labyrinth.
I scrub a hand down my face. This is not a freaking horror movie. I’m just being silly and letting myself get freaked out. There are people around everywhere and the security at a party like this has to be insane.
No one would try anything while we were in a public place and literally all I’d have to do is scream. I mean, the party is being thrown by Cora Ubeli and her husband was supposed to be a big bad mob boss—and that’s not even taking into account the rumors about Mrs. Ubeli herself.
No one’s dumb enough to try to screw with any of the Ubeli’s guests.
I blink hard to reorient myself, then turn right at the fork and head further into the labyrinth. Chill bumps race down my arms, both from the cold night air and the dark night. And I do really want to know who’s been sending the roses all these years. It’s never felt like someone malicious.
Strings of lights are woven into the hedges here and there, along with the occasional standing sconce, but it’s only barely enough to see where I’m going.
So pretty. I sigh and trace my fingertips along the lights.
Pretty lights in the dark night. Haha! I trip again.
Whoops! I barely catch myself and frown down at the mist covering the ground.
Well, that’s why I’m tripping. I can barely see my feet. Ooh look, another fork in the path. Another right turn. More twinkly lights.
But the lights seem to blink in and out, and for a second I can’t make out anything at all. The mist is especially heavy here for some reason, like someone’s blown a fog machine over the garden.
“Hello?” I call out, waving a hand uselessly at the mist to try to see.
I blink hard and take another step down the path. My step stumbles though and the path spins crazily.
Whoa, I don’t feel so good. I blink again and reach out for balance. My hand brushes against shrubbery but I can’t get a good grip and stumble again.
Shit. When was the last time I ate? I have a bad habit of working through meals and today I don’t think I even grabbed anything from the snack machines, I was so anxious about the newest round of experiments.
And then there was the champagne… The world slants sideways for a moment, mists and hedges and ground all becoming distorted in front of me like a funhouse mirror.
What the—?
I stumble forward and finally make it all the way down the path.
It’s a dead end.
There’s no one waiting for me.
I frown and grab my dizzy head. Is this all some joke? Someone’s funny idea of screwing with me? Or did I take a wrong turn and not realize it? I’m really not feeling so good.
I hold a hand out to the sculpted branches of the box hedge for balance. I really need to get back to the party. Have to— Have to eat something before I pass out.
I turn around to head back—
And scream.
In front of me, blocking the path back into the rest of the maze, is a monster. Huge. Horns sticking out of his head. A freaking demon monster! Heading through the mists towards me.
I scream and stumble backwards into the hedge. Dark-leafed branches scratch at me.
“You’re hallucinating,” I whisper frantically to myself. “Someone spiked the punch.” I’ve heard of that happening before. People spiking punch with party drugs so that parties turn into, like, orgies. And whatever they put in this time is hitting me way, way wrong.
The scary demon monster takes another step towards me.
I whimper, blinking over and over as it comes in and out of focus, swathed in mist.
Not real. He isn’t real.
But he sure as hell looks real, all six massive feet of him. Chest like a champion wrestler with huge, oversized muscles, barely constrained by a dress shirt, no jacket.
As he comes closer, dark eyes glare down at me from a bronzed demon face. He’s a— A monster.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper, fear cinching my chest tight. I should scream. I need to scream people so can come help me. But my vocal cords are frozen like my legs.
He grins and I frown. Wait, his mouth, it’s different. I blink repeatedly. Is he— Is he wearing a mask?
“What do I want from you?” His voice is a low, brutal growl. “Everything, little girl.”
Oh shit. Run. I need to run.
But he’s backed me into a corner. There’s nowhere to go where he won’t catch me.
“I’m going to take everything from you and—” he growled.
But I never hear the end of his threat because right then, I pass the fuck out.
Five
Daphne
I blink my eyes blearily and lift a hand to my head. What the— That was the craziest dream. I scrub my hand down my face and sit up.
And then shriek, because where the hell am I?
I jump out of the fancy four poster bed—a bed that isn’t mine—and my feet hit a cold stone floor. The whole room’s made of stone. There’s a giant empty fireplace with a snarling beast head. It reminds me of the creature the night before.
Shit. Shit shit shit. This is bad. I blink hard and shake my pounding head. I have a headache from hell. Was I drugged? Oh my gods, I was drugged and then kidnapped. I’m not wearing my tree costume, just the nude-colored camisole and slip I was wearing underneath. Holy shit. Holy shit.
I run to the window. The glass is old, thickened at the edges. The stone still is freezing to touch. Outside is a several-story drop down a worn stone face to a lawn below. Mist swirls over the trimmed grass and hedges, obscuring the road and the forest beyond. Not that I can see much far off detail without my contact lenses.
I swing back and look around the room again. Weapon. I need a weapon. Shit! In all those years of schooling I took, how did I never take a self-defense class? There’s a lamp in the corner that looks heavy.
But right as I head towards it, the huge wooden door opens. I clap a hand over my mouth to hold in a shriek when a man—oh gods, the same one from last night, bits and pieces are starting to come back—comes into the room.
“You’re awake,” he says in
his low baritone. Even without my glasses, I see the truth. He’s wearing a mask. Not the same as last night. There aren’t horns this time—maybe that was part of the drugged hallucinations?
This mask is smooth and covers only the left half of his face, including most of his nose. I’m too distracted by the mask and, ya know, the fact that I’ve been kidnapped by a most likely psycho killer to pay too much attention to the other half of his face, other than to note that he’s young, maybe in his thirties.
I scramble backwards up against the windowsill. “Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper, my heart pounding a thousand miles a minute.
“You’re not safe,” he says, standing still as stone in the doorway. “Someone tried to drug you.”
I’m frozen as well, only able to stare at him. Uh, duh, someone not only tried to drug me, they did—Him. Before he brought me back to his creepy lair.
“Please let me go.”
“Not until I’m sure you’re safe. Who would’ve drugged you?”
Is he serious right now? “No one that I know.”
He shakes his head, a bitter smile curving his lips. “You don’t see them for what they are.”
“You’re the one wearing a mask.”
He takes a step into the room and I flatten myself back against the window even though I know it’s useless as he stalks closer. His foot falls in time with my heartbeat: boom. Boom. Boom.
“In New Olympus, evil doesn’t have to wear a mask. It parades around, looking beautiful, for all to see. But underneath it’s rotten to the core.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I touch my face, frowning when I don’t feel my glasses there. “Please just let me go.”
“What? Didn’t you like your rose? Your mother did so love them.”
He pulls his hand from behind his back and produces a perfect red rose. I can smell it from here. It’s the same hybrid from last night. And the one on my desk. And every year since I was eighteen…
“You?” I gasp. “Who are you?”
He takes another step closer and runs the blush of the rose petals down my cheek. My first instinct is to jerk back but instead I straighten my spine and look him in the eye. He drags the silken petals down the side of my cheek, along my throat and down along my exposed collarbones. It raises involuntary goosebumps but I don’t look away.
Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set Page 3
