A new list.
A new beginning.
And this time, I don’t have to sleep on the floor.
Ellen opens up the door to the small guest bedroom as I hover awkwardly behind her. Not my old room. That room is locked, and this one has little space for anything except the small bed and drawers, but it’s more than enough.
And it’s a hundred thousand times better than the stone kitchen floor.
“You’re feeling better?” she asks, turning to me. Her pale eyes scan my face. “I was worried about you.”
I click my tongue. “Ellen. You’re not supposed to like your prisoners.”
But I smile, and she smiles back. Just for a moment.
The days pass by, and I find my routine. Silas sticks to his word, and I cheer up immensely at my new, vastly improved diet.
“God, I missed bacon.”
The bacon is hot and salty in my mouth. Groaning, I shove another piece in. Ellen purses her lips. “Don’t eat it all at once, Anastasia. You’ll give yourself a stomachache.”
But she tips another piece onto my plate.
And as the days pass, I don’t see the Tate brothers at all.
I’m not asked to serve at dinner, despite Clara’s very obvious – and completely fucking welcome – absence. I stick to the common areas, making sure every inch is spotless and thanking my lucky stars that I don’t have to change their bedding anymore.
I don’t think I could cope with another offer from Rafe.
I haven’t forgotten how he made me feel.
It sticks in my head. The longer I go without seeing him, without calling him out on it, the more irritated I get.
And the more determined I become. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold.
I owe him a little payback. For his words, and for the floor trick. Especially now I have the energy to think about it.
But I can’t do anything until I see him.
And the more days that pass, the more it becomes clear that they’re avoiding me. All three of them.
I should welcome the space.
I should.
But I still can’t stop myself from looking for them in every room I walk into.
