Arranged By The Bravta King

11

Maria

The sound of the lock latching echoes through the room like a death knell. I fight to catch my breath as panic rises through my body. My gaze stays on the door, waiting for it to open again.

Oh God, no!

Sobbing, I remain in the corner. The cool glass presses against my forehead as I curl up in a ball, and the reality of my situation settles around me like a thick fog. I've been imprisoned by a madman who tells me I'm going to marry him. This is exactly what my dad warned me about. But how did he even know?

As I sit there, I feel a sense of bigger betrayal. I had faith in my future, and this man stole it away. Mikhail has shown me his true nature. He isn't charming or smart. He's evil, and I don't want to think about what he wants to do with me.

... What he already did to me.

Memories of his hands roaming across my body enter my mind, and shame bubbles up in my mind. The way he held me down underneath the weight of his body as I struggled awoke something inside of me. Something that I can't shake off.

His fingers hooked underneath my bra strap, and I was sure that he was on the verge of ripping it apart. And when his hand roamed up my leg ...

I shudder at the thought, mortified at the lustful thoughts racing through my mind.

He almost touched me there ...I think as I press my legs together. But all it does is set my imagination on fire with an overwhelming desire for more. I push the hem of my dress down, a sigh tumbles out of my lips, and I bite down on my lower lip to keep my breathing even.

But I can't stop thinking about how much I wanted him to do more.

I close my eyes, and suddenly I'm transported to a few minutes ago when I was underneath his powerful body. My fingers trace the path his took along my thigh, and slowly, they slip beneath my panties until they find my p***y.

My eyes fly open when I realize that I'm soaked.

"Get yourself together, Maria!" I whisper as I pull my hand away and hug my knees to my chest. "Remember where you are!"

I can't stand it any longer. I didn't run away to end up here, and I'm not marrying him!

Taking several deep breaths until my brain turns back on, I sit up and study my surroundings. The door, with its horn-shaped handle, taunts me. But determination finally pushes me to get off the floor. I grasp the handle with trembling hands. It doesn't hurt to try.

"C'mon, c'mon," I whisper, willing the lock to open. I pull it with two hands and tug. Nothing. I tug harder and harder until I'm yanking wildly at it. But my efforts bring me nothing. Panting, I glare at it, but it won't budge.

Well, that was worth a shot.

My frustration builds up until I shout at the door as if my anger could break that lock. Dammit. I turn my attention to the windows. The enormous glass panes stretch from floor to ceiling, revealing a vertigo-inducing panoramic view of the city below. I laugh madly. I'm being held captive in a glass box.

My breathing comes in short gasps as the view closes in on me. I stare at the sky as if it's opening up, threatening to swallow me into the void. Each breath feels like a struggle, and I can't shake the feeling of being watched. Even in my captivity, I'm not given the security of privacy.

Mikhail is right. No one is coming to help.

This gilded cage is suffocating me.

I make my way toward the nearest window casement and push it with both hands, gripping the thin metal.

"Come on!" My voice breaks as I try to lift it out. But it refuses to budge.

I feel for locks with my fingertips, but the surface is smooth. There is no latch to open.

As the minutes tick by, my hope begins to fade. The locks remain locked, and I'm no closer to escaping than when I arrived.

Not even my dad could get me out of this place.

Dad, I think sadly. He must be sick with worry. Oh God. I can picture him crazed, tearing up the roads in his truck, racing into the city and quizzing a confused and frightened Mercy about my whereabouts.

I've got to keep trying.

My heart pounds as I stalk over to the last window, hidden behind a voluminous sheer curtain, the only one I haven't tried because it looks too small to climb out of.

"C'mon," I whisper, willing the window to open. With trembling hands, I reach out and grasp the slim metal lock. To my shock, it pops open in my fingers. Relief shoots through me as the window slides over, and muggy air floods the room. Finally. I close my eyes and let my small victory sink in.