Chapter 162

Fiona

My stomach churns as I stare at the door. Tossing and turning all night makes for a hungry morning, but I don’t know if I want to go downstairs. I’m not sure what time Ethan wakes up, and if the staff get here this early, I can’t tell because it’s so quiet.

If they’re not here, and if Ethan is still asleep, it could be a chance for me to leave.

My stomach cries out, begging for food.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going,” I mutter, turning the doorknob slowly. I wince when the door’s hinges creak as I pull the door open, but when I look down, I realize that isn’t my only problem. Ethan is stretched out on the floor in front of my door.

Soft snores fall from his mouth, making me bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. What is he doing? Had he slept here all night to make sure I didn’t escape?

Curiosity tugs at my mind as I crouch and study his face. Could he have slept here to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt myself? I reach out, my body subconsciously wanting to be closer, but before my fingers brush his cheek, I pull back.

I internally scold myself because I shouldn’t want to be close to him. Ethan is keeping me trapped here, so no matter how I used to feel, I can’t let myself fall for his charms and good looks.

Forcing myself up, I stand and try to step over his body, but he shifts right at the last second, and I wobble. I tighten my grip on the doorframe to keep from falling as he settles again, snoring lightly.

“This is ridiculous,” I grumble, taking my raised foot and nudging him in the side.

Ethan’s eyes pop open, and in an instant, he’s on his feet, searching the hallway. His head whips to the right then to the left, his body is tense and locked up like he’s expecting danger, and his arms are out to keep me behind him.

“What is it? Is there a problem?” He finally asks, turning to look me over. While his eyes drag over my body, my heart squeezes before a bit of guilt inflates the quickly beating organ. Purple bags have taken up residence under his eyes which stand out against the slightly pale tone of his skin. His hair sticks out in a few places, probably from sleeping on the carpeted floor.

It seems that I’m not the only one who didn’t get much sleep last night.

Shaking away the guilt, I look up into Ethan’s eyes, cross my arms over my chest, and answer him, “No. No problem here… but wait. There is. I’ve been abducted and trapped here like a prisoner. Don’t you think this counts as a problem?”

Ethan sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face and then into his hair. I can tell he’s frustrated by my sarcastic remark, but I don’t feel bad. The ounce of guilt from moments ago evaporates as he stares down at me.

“That’s not what I meant—”

“It isn’t? So, kidnapping someone isn’t a problem?” I snip, raising a brow at him. Without giving him a chance to answer, I continue, “If you really cared how I felt, you wouldn’t keep me here against my will.”

Turning on my heel, I march toward the stairs, ignoring his calls and making my way down to the kitchen. I leave him behind to stew on my words, and when I get to the kitchen, I find the staff in full swing.

“Breakfast is ready if you would like to sit at the dining table, Ms. Fiona,” a young woman says, motioning to the dining room.

“Oh, alright,” I mumble, doing as she says. I wasn’t thinking of any fancy breakfast, especially since I didn’t realize they were already down here. Almost the moment I sit down, another staff member is placing a full breakfast plate and glass of water in front of me. Eggs, sausage, some sort of white soup, and bread are piled onto the plate.

It’s much more than I could ever eat, but I don’t complain as I thank the woman. I nibble on the bread and taste the soup, which has a sweet flavoring to it, and I’m just starting on my eggs when Ethan walks in.

He’s dressed in one of his navy suits, looking just as gorgeous as always, but I make myself look at my plate.

“Yes. Make sure they hear my exact words. If you have any more problems, call me,” Ethan says into his phone. I try not to pay attention, to feign disinterest, but it’s not the easiest thing. Everything about Ethan commands your attention- his voice, his looks, his presence.

I take a bite of my eggs and the nausea from last night rolls in again. Ever since he brought me here, I’ve been feeling sick. I guess being locked up doesn’t agree with me.

“Fiona.”

A shiver runs down my spine at the deep, husky voice. When he sits next to me, I keep my eyes on my food and ignore him.

“Fiona, look at me.”

When I still don’t look up, warm and gentle fingers close around my chin and lift my face. Ethan brings my eyes to his, and I swallow back the need to lean in and kiss him. I won’t do it. He can’t waltz in here, look longingly into my eyes, and win me back.

Not anymore.

I may not be able to move my face, but I cut my eyes downward to avoid his gaze. That is, until he says, “Angela is going to be punished.”

I search his eyes, looking for any hint of a lie or hidden truth.

“The Elders of my pack called just now and let me know they are fighting for a prison sentence. They also asked for me to provide the company’s security footage from the stairway and any other evidence of assault, so Ryan is working on getting that to them,” he explains.

His fingers release my chin, but I don’t move, even as they brush my jaw and slide down to cup the back of my neck.

“If concrete evidence doesn’t convince the council of her guilt, then I promise I will take this directly to the King and have him pass judgement,” Ethan says softly. The rasp in his tone and the gentle brush of his thumb on the underside of my jaw has warmth blooming in my chest. “The Council won’t get away with letting her off with an easy punishment.”

I nod.

“And then you can forgive me, right? I swear I won’t do anything else to hurt you.”

My stomach flips, and I pull back, getting to my feet. The nausea swirls and roars, becoming more than a little wave of sickness.

Shaking my head, I back away from the table, turn, and run from the room. How could he promise that if he’s currently doing the one thing that would hurt me worse than anything else?

Having Angela punished is only part of a very convoluted solution. There’s so much more going on than just dealing with Angela, so why doesn’t he understand that? If he’s such a great leader with an amazing track record of profitable and successful business deals, he should be able to keep his personal life together.

Maybe I expected too much, but I shouldn’t have to be locked up because he can’t do something right. I rub at my stomach, hoping I’ll feel better when I figure a way out of here. What I need to do is find some time to think without being interrupted.

Once I make it up to my room, I lock the door behind me and make a beeline for the bathroom. A hot shower, where I can think, and a nap, to chase away the nausea, are exactly what I need right now.