Was it evening? Was it a night? I couldn't be sure. The windows were sealed. There was no clock. Was this designed to make me go mad? Not knowing what time it was and if I was still in New York. Isolate me from everyone and everything? I assumed he would keep me close, and close was where he could access his company. I had to believe we were still in New York.

I had been pacing back and forth in the room I was kept in. With every minute that passed, I was starting to get more and more anxious. There was nothing to do. I was left to my thoughts, which were close to driving me mad. Walking in circles didn't help either. It irritated me.

I was dressed in the clothes Miriam brought me. It was too expensive. Actually, the closet was full of clothes that were all my sizes and were past my price range. That got me feeling suspicious and made me sick. Either he had people into my flat and got my size, or the man had some serious questions to answer. The asshole even brought me underwear. Although, the bra was a little too small. Hah. He got that wrong. Maybe he bought smaller sizes because my boobs looked bigger and fuller in there. Beth, what the hell are you saying?

Nothing was left out for a woman's necessities. The bathroom was big. It had a tub and a shower stall. There were soaps, shampoos, conditioners—all nice, expensive brands. There was also a toothbrush and toothpaste and skincare products. Clearly, he had thought about it well.

I tried to think about what was to come. If I had no answers for him, was he going to keep me here? Locked up until Hanna was found? Oh, Hanna. I hoped she was fine. I didn't want to think about the worst, but I had to. Her phone had been found on the ground along with her bag. It meant she was taken. Hanna would never willingly ran away. She loved her family. She loved the company. She would never abandon them.

So, where was she? Who took her? I tried to remember anything we had talked about, any clue to go on with, but her life had been great. She had never fought with anyone. All her exes were parted in good terms. If she didn't have enemies, who would take her? A rival company? No, a ransom would have been issued. This couldn't be about business. Then, what?

Miriam brought me food. Since I hadn't eaten anything earlier, I devoured the food right now. The grilled fish and sauce were so good that I wanted more, but I couldn't demand more. I didn't want them to think I was comfortable with my situation.

While Miriam was looking away, I stole a fork from the plate and hid it under the pillow. Call me crazy, but I wanted something to protect myself with. I didn't want it to come to that, but if it ever did, I had something to defend myself with.

After I finished eating, she gathered everything and headed for the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. But then, she didn't go out. She paused by the door, and I thought about sneaking behind her, using the fork to threaten her to show me the way out. I didn't do that.

"Beth," she dragged my name out in frustration, turning around to face me. Her eyes narrowed. "Hand over the fork."

I tried to play dumb. "What fork?"

Her eyes cast down briefly to the tray that was missing the utensil. "The fork you used to eat. Where is it? I need you to give it to me," she ordered with a resigned sigh.

I found myself in a staring contest with her, but I was not about to give up the one thing that would help me against these people. She glowered at me, and I glowered right back. Miriam ended up winning, and I slid the fork from underneath the pillow and hurled it at her. That earned me a fine glare.

"So much for women protecting each other, huh," I shot out, pissed. How could she stand there and not do anything to help me? "Do you know what you are, Miriam? His accomplice and I hope the money he's paying you will be useful in prison because that's where you will be going."

She laughed. She actually fucking laughed like that was a joke. I wanted to punch her right there. Break some teeth. Yank at her hair and make some strands fall.

"I don't worry about that," she told me, and like the lunatic she was, she added, "I think you should be really grateful that you are here. Mr. Slade is an exceptional human being. Anyone would be lucky to be here, but I guess it's all up to you—how you behave. He can give you everything, but he can also make you regret having everything."

"How much is he paying you to say that?" I asked. "Because you're trying to glorify kidnapping." She expected me to jump in happiness at my situation. The nutjob.

"What you are is lucky," she pushed.

"What you are is insane, lady," I retorted with a small hiss. "You don't see how this is wrong because you adore him. He's got you all twisted, so now you smile and nod at everything he says."

"Word of advice, Beth. Stay on his good side. Give him what he wants, and you might be able to get out of here before you get yourself caught in his clutches." She left the room, and I swallowed to get rid of the sudden dryness in my throat.

Two hours later, Miriam returned to my room. By then, I was so bored and slightly depressed for being kept locked in a room with nothing to pass the time with. I was used to staying busy, doing whatever to make me happy, but right here, Rogue was desperate to push me over the edge.

"Good evening, Beth," Miriam greeted with a pleasant smile. Apparently, she was determined to forget what had happened earlier. Did she snoop on me to Rogue? Did he ask her to forget it?

"What time is it?" I asked without rising or getting out of bed.

"Five," she answered as she pulled at the sheets that were covering me. "Mr. Slade said I should show you around the house. Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah, it's really nice," I remarked sarcastically, sliding my foot onto the ground. "Can I have a phone or a computer?"

She blanched. "You have to take that up with him."

Of course. I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask her anyway. Exploring the house would give me another chance to find another exit. Another chance to escape. Maybe I would be lucky enough to find someone that wasn't Miriam who could help me. Suddenly, it didn't sound so bad to go with her.

Maybe I would find a phone too or Rogue's office. If I could send a text or an email to my sister, she could come to rescue me along with the police to arrest Rogue. At the thought of Stephanie and my parents, happily going on with their lives, thinking I was safe and enjoying myself on my vacation, made my heart twist. It was another reason to send them an SOS. I wouldn't be rescued if they didn't know I was kidnapped.

"Where is Rogue?" First, I had to ask her that. I had to know he wasn't hiding in the shadows, waiting for another opportunity to torment me. I had to walk around freely without being scared that he would read my secret on my face.

"He's at the office," Miriam explained in annoyance. "He is a busy man, Beth, he can't always be here. He has a company to run."

"Ah, so here's out there pretending to be a good man, and when he comes back, his true colors are revealed."

"He is a good man," she defended passionately. "He just has his own....ways." She shook her head, bored with the conversation. "Do you want to leave the room or not?"

I wanted to hit her, but I refrained myself. What would that gain me? Nothing. My chances of escape were much better if I had more freedom.

She showed me the house. I already knew it was big, but I didn't know it was that big. There were fifteen rooms—five downstairs and ten upstairs; five living rooms, a theatre, two libraries, and a huge, striking kitchen with granite countertops.

Rogue's study, which was off-limits to me, was on the first floor. It was where he took care of business affairs, and as soon as she told me, I knew that would be the perfect place to find a phone. The decor of the house was a bit of modern and traditional mashed together, although the house lacked a bit of color that would pop the place. There were two pools; one on the first floor and the other on the roof.

When she was done showing me the house, she went off to do some work and told me to explore on my own. Not going to lie, I did jump at the prospect of being alone to do whatever I wanted, which was to snoop, but at the last minute, I changed my mind because I thought it might be a test. Leave me alone and see what I will do. Anyone who was kidnapped would be that predictable, but I wanted to show all of them that I wasn't. They wouldn't control what I did.

I decided to check the library. I didn't care about the books yet. I went straight for the windows. I latched myself onto it, finally able to see the view outside, which was so breathtaking. The garden was green and lush. It was spacious, and there was a bloody maze. The blue-covered sky hung low and endless. There wasn't a feeling inside me that told me I wasn't in New York. I suddenly missed home. I wanted to get out. I didn't want to be held by a crazy man who believed I had something to do with the disappearance of my friend.

I fantasied about being out of this house, back in my own home, and with my friends. I thought of walking the street of New York freely and being at the office. So many things crossed my mind. It made me angry. Angry enough to pick up a chair from the table and tried to break the windows. The chair ended up bouncing off.

Aggravated, I stalked away from the window and put the chair back. I decided to check the built-in bookcases. There were series and individual books, and most of them were history books, autobiographies, memoirs, and so much more. In general, there were no fiction books. I was bummed. Rogue was a boring person, I realized. Not that I expected him to have a shelf full of romance books, but this was a little too much.

I hit the jackpot when I found a collection of Tolkien's books, which made me scoff. Someone must have definitely slid these in thinking he wouldn't notice. But I was grateful for something. I had never read the Lord Of The Rings books, so I pulled the first book out of the shelf and made comfortable in one of the couches.

Let me tell you something. Reading a book or trying to find something to pass the time didn't help take your mind off the situation you're in. Every instinct was telling me to get up and find a way out. I read the same sentence for twenty minutes. It was hard to concentrate when you have no freedom when you have no idea when you'd be getting home, and in my case, where Hanna was. Getting past all this was difficult.

Storming out of the library, I walked down the hallway, peeking into every room until I found myself in a small living room. Oddly enough, it was the coziest room in the house. The decor was a little depressing for my liking. The only interesting thing was the vase that looked antique, which was set atop a glass table as if it was the most precious thing in the room. My leg pushed me forward until I was standing in front of it, gazing at the designs, the swirls, and the details that were given so much importance.

I decided to touch it.

It was a calculated decision. I just saw something pretty that I wanted to touch. So, I picked it up. I held it. I ran my hand over it. I inspected the delicate thing in my hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" The authoritative voice behind me came out so strong and powerful that I spun around in shock, caught off guard by his presence, and the vase slipped past my fingers and dropped to the ground.

It shattered the second it touched the ground. The sound was loud. A thousand little pieces scattered around. My mouth was wide.

He stared.

And stared. He stared, but I could see a storm brewing in Rogue's eyes. His gaze hammered knives into my chest, twisting and twisting and dragging through me. He was a beast unleashed. I waited for him to charge and pounce. Every inhale got my hands shaking. I had to grit my teeth and tried to stay calm.

His voice bellowed, "Get out!"

My chest pumped with fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break it. You scared me." I crouched to touch the pieces as if I could mend them back together, but the second my hand could touch the closest piece, he roared again. I quickly rose, trying not to shake.

Why was he so mad? Was it really that expensive? It was an accident!

Rogue swallowed his rage, unsuccessfully hiding the anger on his face. "Get out. Don't make me repeat myself."

I was facing a warrior in combat head-on, but I had an open to escape. The animalistic need to hide from him gave no room to argue. Without needing to be told twice, I ushered myself out of the room. I couldn't stop myself from breaking into a scurry.

When I blacked into the hallway, I released a breath. When I made sure he wasn't following me out, I leaned back against the wall and let another air out. I soothed my heart, patting and whispering for it to calm down. My ears pricked at the gentle footsteps that came from the living room.

I dared to look in. Rogue was crouched in front of the broken vase. For a few seconds, he didn't move. He just stared. Then, he reached out his hand and took a piece. He placed it over his palm. He took another and another until he gathered a few in his hand. I watched him close his fist. I sucked in a breath. He held the pieces so tightly that the first drop of blood splashed onto the ground. Rogue didn't let go. He didn't open his palm. He knew what he was doing, and he wanted it.

Watching the display agonizingly, the shock was like a plastic bag wrapped around my heart, suffocating me. I didn't dare move; I could barely breathe. He was deliberately hurting himself, and I wanted to tell him to stop. The battle to stop myself from going in there and keeping myself planted right where I was becoming hard to win. Every grip and every drop of his blood wasted on the ground whispered for me to interrupt.

I can't.

He scared me. This was scaring me. Why would he do that?

I backed away before I could stop myself. I turned, and I was running back to my room. I was running away from him.

Back in my room, I couldn't settle down. I kept pacing, biting, and soothing my fingers. I finally had enough courage to walk out of the room. My feet took me to the theatre room, where everything was dark grey. The chairs were leather and comfortable, and the screen was so big. There was a popcorn machine, hot dog mini cart, cotton candy machine, and a wide snack display along with a glass refrigerator that had every soda known to me.

I decided not to take anything but situated myself on the last chair, far away from the door, and tucked my legs under me. I decided to watch a movie, scrolling through various lists, and decided to go with The Invisible Man.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the theater room, taking the opportunity in the quiet scene of the movie to resonate in my ears. I didn't have to look to know who it was. I wasn't going to look. Resting my hands on my lap, I tried to pay attention to the screen, clenching my teeth as I breathed hard through my nose.

My ears pricked as his footsteps slowed to a stop. My head begged to rise and take a look at him as his scent and presence surrounded me. It was all I could think about. Instead, I locked my gaze on the screen and bullied myself into keeping my head straight forward. His legs came into my vision. I grasped the armrests.

Rogue came forward a few steps, lowering himself into one of the seats at the front, planting his long, powerful legs on the ground, two seats away from mine.

Don't look. Pretend he's not here. Don't look. It doesn't matter what he's doing here. You don't have to look.

He crossed his leg. The movement had my head shifting a little to catch a glimpse of his throat before I quickly fastened my gaze to my movie. He's not here. He's not here. My skin pricked when he shifted again.

"Interesting movie you've chosen."

I caved and locked eyes with him, finding myself trapped in whatever game he wanted to play. "You'd think that," I retorted without a thought. "You and him have something in common. You like tormenting women."

He stared harder. "You don't know torment, Beth. I'd hardly call this tormenting." His features were deadly serious—annoyed, in fact. It boiled my blood, and I wanted to claw his eyes out.

"Shall I refresh your mind on what you've done since I was brought here against my will?"

He smirked at me, and it took everything in me not to explode. "You are fed. Clothed. You get to roam the house with many available options to choose—like right now, you're watching a movie. Can you say the same for others?"

"I want to talk to Taylor," I decided. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted to talk to someone who would look at me, see and hear my innocence, not someone who wanted to paint me guilty. Rogue wanted someone to blame. He wanted a scapegoat.

His annoyance grew until his face darkened, and his forehead furrowed into furious lines. "You won't talk to him. You will be talking to me," he finalized. Rogue's fury was a hot blanket that was scorching me. "Have you decided to tell me where Hanna is?"

Another day. Same question. Same answer.

My chin lifted higher. "I think I've made it clear that I'm innocent."

He stared at me with no expression, but with a perfect focus. "I'm the only one who gets to decide whether you're guilty or not." He smiled, keeping his lips tight over his teeth, unable to hide his predatory from showing.

"Hardly seems fair when you're hellbent on making me the culprit. You won't even consider that someone else could have taken her," I said tightly, pissed off. The way he watched me attentively as if he was trying to send some connection to me. He didn't have to. Something was sparking through me, and the longer I stayed in his presence, the thicker it grew until every cell in my body hummed with it.

The slightest tension tightened the corners of his mouth. "It's impossible. Hanna doesn't have enemies."

"And you know this how?"

"Because I know it."

"And I should believe you because you said so?"

Rogue stared at me with heated eyes and a clenched jaw, slowly exhaling through flared nostrils. "That would be the smartest thing," he advised.

I couldn't resist throwing him a glare. "I don't want to be smart then. You can accuse me of making my friend disappear, but I can't accuse you of being wrong?" In what world was that fair?

"I say yes or no, and people go along with it. It's how peace is kept." His voice resembled an ax, hacking through the air.

I stiffened, and it didn't go unnoticed by him. "And if they disagree?" I dared to ask, even though I knew the answer. Men like Rogue Slade, who had power got away with everything. They were above the law. They spat on it. People treated them like gods. People feared them like they were the devils. They could never be two sides, just one.

"The peace is gone. Everyone wants to keep the peace with me," Rogue warned, and right now, he wasn't the man who owned several companies. He wasn't the billionaire plastered on every front page. He was Rogue Slade. Dark and sinister. Ruthless and dangerous. I didn't know the man staring at me. "Trust me, or don't trust me, but you need to keep my wishes and desires above yours."

"What happens when I don't?"