As he predicted, he expected a phone call from Jasmine's phone from her brother any day now. A devils smirk graced Cristiano's lips as he held the brand new cellular phone–with her original SIM card and let it ring until her voicemail picked up. Zayn had tried again. When Jasmine didn't answer, he knew it would make him wonder and resort to texting.

Cristiano was ready.

Hey, I'm back.

Why aren't you answering?

Where are you?

I just drove back from Scotland.

Where are you? I tried calling.

You aren't picking up.

I need to see you.

Can you meet me at the penthouse?

What's wrong?

I can't explain over the phone.

Come here as soon as possible.

Are you okay?

You're worrying me.

It sounds urgent.

I'm fine. In a meeting.

Just please come see me as soon as you can.

I'm exhausted from the long drive.

I'll stop by tomorrow.

See you soon.

Fortunately, Zayn hadn't questioned his sister further. He hadn't figured out it was Cristiano texting him back. He'd read passed messages and made it sound like she was in fact texting him back. His intent was to make the messages sound somewhat urgent and it appeared it worked.

He learned one fine detail which was lost. Zayn had traveled to Scotland, and his mode of transportation was by car, not plane. It would explain why they couldn't locate his name amongst any travelers from the airport database.

Zayn wasted no time, as he anticipated, and appeared the next day, at the hotel. His men have been spying the hotel for weeks from a safe and disclosed distance and waited. Cristiano informed them to be on stand-by and expect him.

They were instructed to deliver a personal, simply hand-written message.

The car finally turned down the bumpy and long road to his castle. The trees parted and he saw his dark, looming castle overlooking the dark forest. The chauffeur drove the black Rolls-Royce to the front of the door and abruptly stopped. For a moment he held his breath and opened the door without waiting for his driver.

During his meeting with his private security detail, Cristiano was informed of what occurred.

Zayn stiffened, Cristiano was told, and demanded her whereabouts. If he was to contact anyone, his men also warned, she will die. It was all a lie of course, but one that would ensure his cooperation. They left Zayn with further instructions to be in touch before the exchange and escort him to the unspecified location themselves.

The exchange was to happen soon. Zayn was to make his grand appearance by the end of the following week. So much for Yasmina's sacrifice. He should have been feeling triumphant, instead he was clawing his hair the entire ride back home from the meeting.

He couldn't stop thinking about her– the way her eyes lit up with when she was outdoors as the sun soaked the face of her skin. The way her hair shone like honey. The sure swing of her hips when she walked in her tight jeans. Often times he wondered how those long legs would feel wrapped around his waist, that ivory skin silky soft beneath his fingertips, that gold-streaked chestnut hair spread out upon his pillow, spilling through his fingers–

He thrust the images from his mind, as his driver opened the front door of the castle. Standing in the entry hall, he was instantly struck with a sense of emptiness in his vast home. His men were nowhere to be found. The foyer was usually lively with servants. With no one minding the door, anyone could have walked right in. The island he occupied was a safe area, but he had plenty of enemies.

A feeling of foreboding entered his body. The first thought springing to his mind was Yasmina.

Something was wrong.

Unable to stand still, Cristinao strode into the hall in a rush of determination. He took two steps at a time as he leaped up the stairs and barged into her bedroom without knocking. The scent of the perfume she used assailed him. It burned into his nostrils.

He'd known the moment he stepped back into the castle–sensed her absence when he was downstairs. And he was right. The bed was neatly made, and there were no stray clothes or other items left scattered about. Opening the French doors leading to the balcony, he found himself alone with no sign of her.

Cristiano shook with fury feeling it boiling through his blood.

"Yasmina!"

Where had she gone? Where were the guards? He had ordered more guards posted around her when he left for his meeting, specifying they not let her out of their sight until he returned.

With a gust of rage, Cristiano entered his study and paced back and forth. Then he faintly heard the sounds of soldiers barking orders echoing into the once silent home. He thrust the door aside, stopped in the doorway and watched a pair of men leaving the dungeons. Shaking his head angrily, he knew they would not know where she was when they were guarding her friend.

He strode back in, slamming the door shut with his foot and went to the window he often watched her from when she was outside. Perhaps she went to the gardens again. It didn't seem likely that she would have gone out for a walk on such a gloomy late afternoon with the wind rising and the cold descending from the sky.

He had no reason to be worried.

But if she was out on the grounds alone, unforeseen danger might threaten her unaware. Cristiano decided to call, retrieving his phone from his pocket, and quickly dialed Mateo.

"Where are you?" He asked harshly.

Cristiano was annoyed to learn they were all watching a sports event.

"Have the men search the entire castle and grounds. The female is missing." He ends the call.

He rested his hands on his hips and tried to gather his thoughts. He could barely think. He was too furious, swiping the contents of his desk on the floor with an arm. He slammed his fists against the bare polished surface. His face turned a dangerous shade of red, beads of sweat forming on his temple as his chest heaved with the effort to control himself.

If she even tried to escape him again, she was going to pay dearly.

*****

The sound of her rapid, shallow panting filled the narrow space of the hedged wall of the garden maze. The hedges towered over her and she felt like a mouse trying to find its way out, frantically looking for the end that would lead it to its food, but in her case, freedom.

She'd spent plenty of time for the last couple days trying to study the vast gardens and find a way to help her escape. Jasmine had even reached the end of the estate to find land beyond the castle grounds, littered with tall trees and bushes. It almost looked like a forest of some sorts. Jasmine never ventured out for too long, but came back each day to study what she was going to do once she reached the wall-like fence. She'd have to climb it of course, which wasn't a problem. Her problem is what she was going to meet once she entered the forest.

How far was the road? How far was the nearest town? Was there wild animals hiding in the dense concealing foliage? She decide she'd come to that obstacle once she was free.

She inched down the narrow lane, her shoes softly thudding over the lush grass, her chest heaving. Constantly looking over her shoulder. It was nearly late-afternoon, the winds rose and the chill in the air lowered the temperature considerably as the night quickly approached. Jasmine hugged her middle to ward off the cold and kept moving on, making her way, glancing nervously around, searching for any sign of something hiding within the growing shadows.

She managed to avoid Cristiano for the past two days and ventured out in the early afternoons to the gardens, making it look like she enjoyed the outdoors. Ever since she spoke to her parents she didn't want to be seen or talk to anyone, even the maids who brought up her breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Usually she'd make small talk and learn as much as she could about the castle and their lives. But for the last two days she ignored them and sent them glares from the corner of her eyes.

They eyed her with uncertainty at her behavior but never questioned her silence. Jasmine felt guilt now that she thought back to the way she turned from them without so much of an acknowledgment. It wasn't their fault she was held prisoner, but they worked for the man that did. But if they truly wanted, they could have secretly offered to help her without getting caught. She was almost positive they weren't going to risk Cristiano's wrath by helping her.

With every inch she gained, her confidence grew that she would be free. She had studied the maze so many times, a part of her was afraid of losing all sense of direction. The lulling splash of the fountain in the tiny center of the maze helped her navigate where she was.

An owl hooted in the distance, giving her the chills. Clenching her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palm, she huddled against a bush, edging inch by inch down the lane. She was nearly passed a corner, pressing her back flat against the scratchy bushes, trying to gather her nerve, her stomach in knots, hoping no guards happened to venture out to make their security rounds.

The owl continued to hoot every few seconds, the sound echoing a warning. Jasmine hated the sound. The myth behind owls was they were omens of bad luck or death. At least that's what was portrayed in the horror movies she watched. Something bad always happened to the person in trouble whenever an owl was hooting, hidden in a high tree. And now she found the call unbearable and wished it would fly away to some other tree where she couldn't listen to it anymore.

The breeze rose again, smelling cut grass and the dampness of the previous nights rain. She stopped breathing for a few seconds, trying to make out any sounds of footsteps. Jasmine began moving again, but a tug on her hair almost made her scream, whirling to find one of her long thick, tangled hair had merely snagged on the grasping bush. Wide-eyed, both hands pressed to her mouth to silence her ragged panting, Jasmine backed away and resumed marching on with stiff, jerky strides while cold horror spilled down her belly.

When she reached the end of the lane, she grimaced, fighting to find her courage to look around the corner.

All she had to do was pass another gap in the bushes halfway down the lane and she'd find freedom. She bolted, her long, brown hair streaming out behind her. The break was coming, while straight ahead lay the exit out of the maze. She jerked her face wildly to the left, hearing movement.

For a moment, Jasmine could not seem to move because in the distance, through the bushes, she listened to the soldiers swiftly approaching.

They were searching for her!

The men's shouting grew loud and dogs barked.

The acidic taste of bile rose to the back of her throat. Her chest lifted and fell, lifted and fell. She knew she could not remain where she was for more than a few seconds longer. Jasmine's heart hammered as a crushing sense of impeding doom settled over her. Swallowing heavily, she tried to push down her rising dread. She had to hide before she was caught and searched wildly around her.

What to do?

She had nowhere to hide where they wouldn't be able to see her except. . .the tree she was planning would help her reach the other side of freedom. She looked above her, the tree she was under was big and old. Branches spread out from every direction, some were thick, others thin and decaying.

She had to climb a tree, reach the brick fence, and jump over.

It was the only lucky break she had. It was the only option she planned to use and the only one at the end of the gardens. The brick wall was her only barricade and the tree will act as her camouflage if she could manage to climb it. Considering what was waiting for her, she had to try to get away while the getting was good.

A bead of perspiration ran down her cheek.

After one last furtive glance towards the commotion quickly brewing for her search, she took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking so badly that it took several tries to jump, trying to reach a thick branch.

However, she misses.

Jasmine walked away a few steps and turned around, gaining speed and pushed herself hard in order to jump and try to grasp onto a branch. On the third try, adrenaline pumping through her veins, she pushed up with all her might and she finally caught on to a branch but it quickly snapped and echoed throughout the silent night and gave away from her weight. She fell to the ground and managed to fall on the weight of her feet with a hard thump to only stumble and fall backwards on her back.

Jasmine bounded to her feet and scurried back in surprise, tears pooled in her eyes as hopelessness filled her.

Soldiers burst onto the path and skidded to a halt as they took in the scene of her before them. Numb with terror and dread, Jasmine watched helplessly as they spoke in Italian into their two-way radios, and the dogs held by leashes barked viciously at her, snapping their jaws, bodies erect and ready to pounce. She retreated back a few steps and turned, her fight or flight kicking into full force. She bolted, ignoring the growing ache in her shoulders, back and legs and she tried to move faster.

Jasmine didn't look back as rustling ensued behind her. Their feet moved rapidly over the ground as they turned and reached down the path.

"Ferma!" (Stop) One shouted from behind her.

She shrieked and looked over her shoulder as the men tore around the corner behind her. Jasmine panicked and continued to run. They were bearing down fast and the dogs panted heavily as they gained speed. As she passed a gap, running full force, another soldier unexpectedly exploded out of the intersecting path.

He caught both her arms and she screamed. She quickly tore free, tackled her way clear of him, heard her cardigan ripping as she pulled, wrenching forward.

A gun shot rang into the darkening night.

Her very mind choked before her body knew to stop. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. She immediately touched her middle and hunched forward. Jasmine half expected to feel a bullet rip through her skin as she collapsed to a stop. It took a few seconds for her mind to realize she wasn't shot.

It was only a warning to make her stop running.

Just then, the night sky decided to fling a cold burst of cold rain. When the first drop struck her the bare skin of her face she flinched. One of the soldiers strode froward and hauled her up from her crouched position. She cried out. He hurled her to face him and put a gun to her temple.

"His Highness is expecting you, little princesa." (Princess) His thick Italian accent washed over her.

She could not see his face due to the rain plastering her hair to her face and veiling her eyes. She heard the others chuckle at her expense. Cheeks blazing, she wanted to die for shame at being caught and taken back to Cristiano. She felt like she was going to throw up.

The dogs growled at her like she was their enemy, barely controlled by the leashes at their collar.

She was gripped tightly by the arms by two men and escorted back to the castle. She was trapped, her breath jagged, her skin racing with shivers, hot and cold. She could feel a volcanic force of pure rage building from the castle. He must be furious. The air was suddenly thick and heavy. The only sound she found she could focus on was her pulse crashing in her ears.

"Perhaps, he will throw you in the dungeon with your friend where you belong and finally be done with the both of you." The same man ruthlessly whispers in her ear.

Terror wiped her mind blank. Usually she was quick-witted, but at the moment she was mute, staring unseeingly at the castle up ahead. What if he harmed Sammy because of what she did? What if he did place her in the dungeon? She wouldn't have the chance to try to escape again.

Hundreds of different thoughts rushed through her head. What has she done, she despaired.

She couldn't stop shaking.

****

"She was trying to escape." Mateo said, standing with his arms crossed. "My men managed to catch her before she made her break over the wall."

"Where were your men? This would never have happened if my orders weren't dismissed!" Cristiano spat.

Mateo bristled, a scowl forming on his forehead. "They will be dealt with accordingly, your Highness." He bows his loyalty. "I assure you, this will never happen again."

"Where is she now?!?" Cristiano asks in a furious rasp.

"In her room, your Highness." Mateo responded. "Shall I escort her to the dungeon? Where she belongs with that other vermin?"

Cristiano's pulse thundered in his ears, and his hands closed to fists. He felt his anger burn like a jet engine ready to explode at the suggestion. Be it good or ill, even as angry as he was with her, he gave a damn what other men said of her.

"She is none of your concern. I will deal with her myself. "

He maneuvered his way through the shattered remains of his furniture after his display of temper and destruction.

Her door was shut as he stormed down the hallway towards it, but never stopped.

He never slowed.

He never took a breath.

He walked right into it, barreling his shoulder into it, and crashed through it as a roar almost ripped from his throat. The door flew open and crashed against the wall.

Jasmine gasped, spun around. . .and froze as she dropped the towel.

. . .his mind went blank.

Inches from him, naked, and totally alone in the room stood Jasmine.

"Where–" he blinked, his jaw clenched right as the rest of the world faded away.

"Where did–" his eyes slid over her, and his mouth stopped working.

Because right there, for the very first time was all of her. She was all woman, all soft curves and smooth skin and his mind just went blank.

_____________________________________________________________