Stolen Queen (Dynasty of Deception #4)

7. Ava

7

AVA

I wake with a start, confusion surrounding me. Where am I? The room around me is unfamiliar, and a sense of dread washes over me. This isn't my bedroom. The walls are a deep burgundy, not the soft pink I'm used to. The bed beneath me is larger, firmer.

The side of my head throbs, and when I reach up to touch it, I wince. The spot is tender, sore in a way that makes me wonder if I hit it on something.

I close my eyes, trying to piece together my last memories. I remember standing on my balcony, looking out at the night sky. I'd been planning to sneak out again, desperate for another taste of freedom after my first adventure weeks ago.

I'd climbed over the railing, my heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. But after that… nothing. It's all a blank. Did I fall? Is that why my head hurts? But if I fell, how did I end up here?

Panic rises as I consider the possibilities. Did someone find me? Take me? My father's enemies are numerous, and I've always been warned about the dangers that lurk beyond our walls.

I sit up slowly, fighting against the wave of dizziness that threatens to pull me back down. The room spins for a moment before settling. It's not lavish, and yet, it’s definitely high-end. Expensive furniture, thick carpets. Whoever brought me here has money. That knowledge does little to comfort me.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet sinking into plush carpet. My gaze darts around, taking in more details that set my nerves on edge. Heavy curtains cover what I assume are windows, blocking out any natural light. A large armoire looms in the corner. Next to it sit my shoes. I glance down, noting that I’m dressed in my clothes. I guess I’m glad that my captor only removed my shoes and not my clothes.

I stand slowly, steadying myself against the bedpost as another wave of dizziness hits. I take a tentative step forward, then another, my legs shaky but holding.

As I move, I catch sight of myself in a full-length mirror. A small gasp escapes my lips as I notice a bruise forming on my temple. What happened to me?

Fear grows as I approach the door. My hand trembles as I reach for the handle, dreading what I might find on the other side. I turn it slowly, holding my breath.

It doesn't budge.

I try again, harder this time, but the door remains stubbornly closed. Locked. My heart rate spikes.

"Hello?" I call out, wondering if it’s a good idea to get my captor’s attention. "Is anyone there?"

Silence answers me.

I'm locked in a strange room, injured, with no memory of how I got here. I must have been kidnapped. My father often warned me of the possibility, although I usually dismissed his concerns as paranoia.

"You're a Rinella," he'd say, his eyes hard. "There are people who'd do anything to get their hands on you."

I thought he was just trying to scare me to control me. What value could I possibly have to anyone outside our family? The D’Amatos didn’t seem to feel I held any value.

Now, trapped, I realize how naive I've been. My heart pounds against my ribs as the truth of my situation sinks in. This isn't some adventure gone wrong. This is exactly what my father had always feared.

Tears prick at my eyes as I come to terms with the consequences of my actions. I'd been so eager for freedom, and now, I'd give anything to be back in my pink bedroom, safe and sound.

I stand staring at the door, wondering how long I've been missing. Does my family know I'm gone yet? Are they searching for me?

The handle of the door turns and my heart, already beating fast, ratchets up to a million miles a minute. The door swings open, and I stumble backward, nearly losing my balance as I retreat from my captor.

Matteo Moretti steps into the room. His tall frame fills the doorway, those piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.

"You?” I'm shocked. Why… how… am I with Matteo?

Matteo's expression is unreadable as he sets a tray of food on a small table and then takes a step toward me. I flinch involuntarily.

His head tilts as he studies me. “You’re safe.”

Am I? My mind races, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. Matteo Moretti, the man who's been haunting my dreams for weeks, is now standing before me in this strange room. Is this a dream too? The line between reality and fantasy blurs, and I'm not sure what to believe anymore.

Flashes of that night at the club come flooding back. The burning taste of alcohol, the thrill of rebellion, and… a kiss? My cheeks flush hot as the memory surfaces, vivid and electric.

Is that why he’s taken me? He wants more than a kiss?

"What's going on?" I demand, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Did you… did you kidnap me?"

Matteo's brow furrows, and he takes another step closer. I back up until I'm pressed against the bed, thinking this isn’t the best place to get cornered if he wants more than a kiss.

“That depends on what you consider to be kidnapping.”

What? “You took me without my consent.”

He shrugs. “The way I see it, I saved you.”

“You saved me?” I think he’s playing word games with me.

“You were trying to escape your room again, but this time you fell. Lucky I was there or you could have broken your neck in the fall.”

The throbbing in my head suddenly makes sense, but it doesn't explain everything. A part of me wants to believe Matteo, but another part screams that this is exactly what my father warned me about. While our families aren’t at war, there is bad blood between my family and the D’Amatos. Is taking me some sort of revenge? Am I going to be a bargaining chip?

Matteo takes another step toward me.

"Stay back!" I shout, my voice shrill with panic. I grab the nearest object, a heavy crystal vase from the nightstand, and brandish it like a weapon. My hands shake, but I hold it firmly, ready to defend myself if necessary.

Matteo stops, his hands raised. He’s not afraid of me. No, he’s acting like I’m a skittish caged animal that he wants to reassure. "I'm not going to hurt you."

But his calm demeanor only fuels my fears. My mind races, conjuring up worst-case scenarios. He’s taken me for his own desires. Or he’s taken me at the order of Elio D’Amato.

"What do you want from me?" I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Then why am I here?”

He sighs. “I told you. I saved you.”

He takes a step closer, and I raise the vase higher. "Don't! Don't come any closer."

He stops, his blue eyes searching my face. "Why are you so afraid? You weren’t afraid when I saved you from yourself before. I promise, I'm trying to help you."

His words do little to reassure me. If anything, I'm more suspicious. What kind of person kidnaps someone and then acts like he did it to protect them?

"Help me? By locking me in a strange room? By keeping me from my family? How is that helping?" My mind whirls as I try to reconcile the Matteo before me with the man I thought I knew. The charming, dangerous figure who'd starred in my dreams. The one who'd shown me a glimpse of freedom that intoxicating night at the club.

But now, trapped in this room with him, I'm not sure what to believe. Did he really catch me when I fell? Or is this all part of some elaborate scheme?

He rolls his eyes, and I can feel frustration radiating off him. “Or maybe I should have let you fall unconscious to the ground to be found by your father's guards.”

Okay, so that wouldn’t be good. Assuming he’s right, I could have died. And if not, being found and brought to my father would lead to punishment I don’t want to think of.

As if he can read my fears, he says, "Or maybe I should have taken you back to your father myself. Get back in his good graces."

My stomach churns as I imagine the consequences. The loss of what little freedom I have would be the least of my worries. My father's temper is legendary, and I've already pushed him to the brink once. What would he do if he found out about this?

I lower the vase slightly. "You… you didn't tell him?"

Matteo shakes his head, his smirk softening into something almost… kind? "No, I didn't. But you see the problem we have now, don't you?"

I see my problem. Even so, I want to go home. It’s true that I’d rather be with the devil I know. “Thank you for helping me. I should go," I say, moving toward the door. "My family will be wondering where I am."

As I move past him, Matteo's hand shoots out, grasping my arm. His grip isn't painful, but it's firm enough to stop me. My pulse quickens, fear creeping back in.

"You can't leave," he says, his voice low and serious.

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. "What do you mean?”

Matteo's blue eyes lock onto mine, intense and unreadable. "By saving you, I've put myself in a precarious situation with both our families.”

"That's not my problem," I insist, my voice stronger now. "I appreciate what you did, but I need to go home."

Matteo's jaw clenches. "It's not that simple, Ava. You apparently don’t understand.”

"Then explain it to me because right now, all I see is you keeping me here against my will."

“Sneaking out of your room, putting yourself in danger… Did you think there wouldn't be consequences?"

His words sting, and I feel my cheeks flush with indignation. "That's not fair. I was just trying to live a little, not to be kidnapped by my father’s enemies.”

He arches a brow. “Is that what we are now? Your father’s enemies? That makes my saving you all the more problematic, Princess.”

I don’t like how he calls me Princess. It has a tone that says I’m a spoiled brat.

“And how do you expect to return home? You’ve been out for a while. Your father must know you’re gone. How will you explain yourself? You’re in as much trouble as I am.”

“Your troubles aren’t my problem.” But he’s right. How do I sneak back home? How do I explain my absence? I could blame Matteo. There's something about that idea that doesn't feel right.

Matteo's eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a humorless laugh. "Not your problem? Grow up, Ava. You're the one who created this situation. You can't just wash your hands of it because you don't like the consequences."

He does think I’m a spoiled brat. Part of me wants to scream at him, to defend myself against his harsh judgment. But another part knows there’s some truth in his words.

He gives me a derisive glare. “You’re safe here, but right now, you’re under my protection… and my rules. Eat something, and I’ll be back later." He stalks to the door, exiting the room. The door shuts. The latch locks in place.

I sink to the bed as my mind reels. I think of that statement about being careful what you wish for. I wanted adventure, a taste of freedom. In the end, I've traded one prison for another. I’m at the mercy of a man who both terrifies and fascinates me.

Matteo Moretti.

Even now, scared out of my wits, a part of me feels drawn to him. Why? He's my captor, keeping me here against my will.

I rise, going to the window, wondering if I can open it for fresh air, or perhaps to escape. I pull back the curtains and realize I must be in a penthouse as I can barely make out the cars and people below.

I study the cityscape. I'm still in Chicago, I think. Downtown, maybe. So close to home, yet impossibly far away.

I sigh as I begin to accept my new reality. I'm no longer under my father's thumb, no longer facing an arranged marriage to a vile man. But I’m not free. What is Matteo planning to do with me? Sell me? Ransom me? Keep me locked up?

I’m discovering that sometimes, the unknown is scarier than the known.