The Maybach rolled smoothly through the empty, dark streets of Boston. The orange glow of the streetlights flashed rhythmically through the tinted windows, washing over the backseat.
Alois sat on the right side, leaning his head against the cold glass. His eyes were shut tight, and a deep crease marked his forehead.
Hayden sat on the far left side. She kept her hands folded neatly in her lap. The thick white bandage wrapped around her left wrist practically glowed in the dim light.
The air conditioning in the car was blasting. Hayden was still wearing her thin silk evening gown. A violent shiver ripped through her shoulders.
She turned her head and looked at Alois's broad, stiff shoulders.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Slowly, she began to slide across the leather seat toward him.
The expensive leather squeaked under her weight. In the dead silence of the car, the sound was deafening.
Alois's thick eyelashes fluttered for a second, but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't tell her to stop.
Hayden finally closed the gap. She took a deep, shaky breath and reached out, wrapping both her arms around his thick left bicep.
She rested the side of her head against his shoulder, absorbing the solid, radiating heat coming through his suit jacket.
Alois's entire body went rigid. His lungs froze. He didn't push her away.
Suddenly, the front tires hit a deep pothole.
Rudy slammed his foot on the brake. The heavy car jerked violently forward.
The momentum threw Hayden off balance. Her body pitched forward, and her left wrist slammed hard against the hard plastic backing of the front seat.
The fresh stitches ripped open instantly.
A blinding flash of white-hot pain exploded behind her eyes. Her vision went completely black for a second.
She bit down on her lip so hard she tasted copper. She swallowed the scream building in her throat. She was terrified that if she made a sound, he would push her away and ruin this rare moment of closeness.
Hayden quickly sat back up. She shoved her left hand behind her back, hiding it against the seat cushion. Cold sweat poured down her neck.
Alois had opened his eyes the second the car jerked. He turned his head and looked at her.
He instantly saw the sickeningly pale color of her face. He saw the way her right shoulder was awkwardly pushed forward to hide her left arm.
Then, the smell hit him.
The sharp, metallic scent of fresh blood began to fill the enclosed cabin.
Alois's face darkened. A terrifying, violent storm gathered in his eyes.
He reached out and grabbed her right shoulder, physically twisting her body so she was forced to face him.
"Bring your hand out," he ordered. His voice was deadly cold. "Don't make me say it twice."
Hayden shook her head frantically. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm fine. It really doesn't hurt."
Alois's patience snapped.
He reached behind her back and forcefully yanked her left arm out into the open.
The pristine white bandage was already soaked through with a massive, spreading stain of dark red blood.
Alois stared at the blood. His chest he heave up and down. Raw fury and agonizing panic warred in his dark eyes.
"Are you out of your mind?" he roared, his voice shaking the windows. "You're bleeding! Don't you know how to say it hurts?"
Hayden flinched violently at his shout. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over her cheeks.
"I was afraid," she sobbed, her voice a tiny, broken whisper. "I was afraid if I cried, you would think I was annoying and kick me out of the car."
That sentence hit Alois like a sledgehammer to the ribs.
All the explosive anger drained out of his body in an instant, leaving him hollow.
He let out a heavy, defeated sigh. His large hands moved with agonizing gentleness as he cupped her bleeding wrist.
He lifted his head and glared at the back of the driver's head.
"Drive steady," Alois snarled. "Are you trying to kill us?"
The Maybach pulled to a smooth stop in front of the massive stone fountain of the Wyatt Estate.
The head butler was already standing at the top of the wide marble steps, his hands clasped behind his back.
Rudy opened the rear door. Alois stepped out first. He turned around and held his large, calloused right hand out to Hayden.
Hayden looked at his hand. A painful lump formed in her throat. Without a second of hesitation, she placed her uninjured right hand into his palm.
Alois's fingers closed around hers. He gave a gentle pull, guiding her out of the car. The cool night wind whipped her thin skirt around her legs.
They walked side by side through the massive double doors into the brightly lit foyer. The butler and a line of maids immediately bowed their heads.
Hayden looked around the grand hall. In her past life, she had fought tooth and nail to escape this place. Now, the sight of the crystal chandelier and the dark wood paneling made her chest ache with relief.
She took a deep breath. She needed to break down the cold wall Alois was still keeping between them.
As they approached the sweeping marble staircase that led to the second floor, the physical toll of the night finally caught up with her.
She lifted her foot to step onto the second marble stair, but a sudden, violent wave of dizziness crashed over her brain. Her vision swam with dark spots. Her legs, completely drained of strength from the blood loss and sheer exhaustion, simply gave out beneath her. She let out a sharp, breathless gasp as her body pitched uncontrollably backward into the empty air.
Alois was walking half a step behind her. His eyes had never left her.
Alois, clouded by his own deep-seated paranoia, immediately assumed it was another one of her clumsy, manipulative tricks. The corner of his eye twitched in irritation. But his body moved faster than his brain. His long arm shot out, wrapping securely around her narrow waist before she could hit the hard stone.
Hayden immediately spun around in his grip. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket with both hands and buried her face into his solid chest.
She tilted her head up. She widened her eyes, making them look as innocent and wet as a frightened deer's.
"My legs are like jelly," she whispered, her voice soft and sweet. "I can't walk. Will you carry me up?"
A few feet away, the butler stared at the floor, completely expressionless. He subtly waved his hand, silently ordering all the maids to disappear from the hall.
Alois looked down at her. A cold, mocking light flashed in his dark eyes.
He knew this girl better than anyone. She was arrogant and selfish. She would never lower herself to act this pathetic unless she wanted something massive.
She's doing this for Erick, Alois thought, his jaw clenching. She thinks this cheap acting will lower my guard.
Alois sneered internally. If you want to play this game, let's see how far you're willing to go.
He didn't call out her lie. He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her up the marble stairs with steady, heavy steps.
Hayden rested her head against his shoulder. The corner of her mouth curled up into a small, relieved smile. She thought her plan was working.
She leaned closer to his ear. "Alois," she whispered. "I promise I'll be really good and obedient from now on."
Alois's footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. His Adam's apple bobbed hard.
He carried her down the long second-floor hallway and kicked open the door to her bedroom.
He walked over to the massive bed and dropped her onto the soft mattress. The second her back hit the sheets, he stepped back, putting three feet of distance between them.
"Go to sleep," he said coldly. "Stop playing games."
He turned and walked out of the room.
The heavy wooden door clicked shut, sealing her inside. Hayden lay frozen on the massive bed. She gripped the silk bedsheets so tightly her knuckles ached. She stared unblinking at the thin sliver of light beneath the door, desperately forcing her lungs to take in air. He's coming back, she repeated frantically in her head. He's just getting medicine. He's coming back. But with every passing second of dead silence, the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch and crawl toward her. The walls of the luxurious bedroom felt like they were slowly, agonizingly closing in, threatening to crush her lungs.
Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Alois leaned his back against the wall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver lighter.
He lit a cigarette. Through the thick, curling smoke, his eyes turned pitch black, filled with a dark, obsessive paranoia.
Ten minutes later, the bedroom door opened again.
Alois walked in holding a white medical kit.
He had taken off his suit jacket. He was wearing a white dress shirt, the fabric slightly wrinkled, with the top two buttons undone, exposing his collarbone.
Hayden sat obediently on the edge of the mattress. Seeing him come back made her heart slam against her ribs.
Alois pulled a velvet armchair over and sat directly in front of her. He popped the latches on the medical kit.
He pulled out a bottle of dark, medicinal oil.
"Expose the shoulder you bruised in the car," he ordered, his voice low and flat.
Hayden's cheeks flushed hot. She reached up and pulled the thin left strap of her silk gown down, exposing her bare, rounded shoulder.
A massive, ugly purple bruise marred her pale skin.
Alois's eyes darkened. He poured the thick oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together violently, creating heat through friction.
He pressed his large, calloused palm against her bare shoulder.
The burning heat of his skin sent a shockwave straight down Hayden's spine.
Alois began to massage the bruise with firm, heavy pressure.
"Your acting is getting worse," Alois said, his tone dripping with casual cruelty. "Is this how Erick teaches you to please a man?"
Hayden's body went stiff. She opened her mouth to argue, but Alois’s hand remained firmly on her shoulder, a silent, heavy weight. The pressure was a question, a challenge that needed no words. It was a deeply invasive, territorial gesture. A silent, physical test.
Alois stared dead into her eyes. His voice dropped to a dangerous, raspy whisper. "Does he touch you like this too?"
The second those words hit her brain, a dam broke inside Hayden's mind.
The horrific memories of her past life violently hijacked her senses.
She saw Erick's twisted face in the asylum. She felt his hands wrapping around her throat, slamming her head against the freezing concrete wall as he forced pills down her throat.
A wave of pure, visceral terror and absolute disgust seized her stomach.
Hayden's face turned the color of ash. She violently shoved Alois's hand away and slapped both her hands over her mouth.
She leaned over the edge of the bed and began to dry heave violently. Her stomach cramped, trying to empty itself of the phantom sickness.
Alois froze. His hand hung suspended in the air, his fingers trembling slightly.
He stared at her shaking back. He watched her body violently reject the idea of another man touching her.
The temperature in his eyes dropped to absolute zero.
In Alois's mind, the logic was perfectly clear: Hayden was so deeply in love with Erick that the mere thought of another man-of Alois-touching her made her physically sick. She was guarding her body for Erick.
A bitter, self-deprecating smirk twisted his lips. A wave of destructive, violent rage boiled in his blood.
Alois grabbed a tissue and wiped the oil off his hands. His movements were harsh and aggressive, as if he were wiping away something filthy.
He stood up. He looked down at Hayden, who was still gasping for air.
"If my touch makes you that sick," Alois said, his voice freezing the air in the room, "why did you force yourself to jump into my arms earlier?"
Hayden choked. She forced her nausea down and snapped her head up. Tears streamed down her face.
"No," she gasped out, shaking her head. "No, I was thinking about Erick. He makes me sick."
Alois didn't believe a single word.
He grabbed the handle of the medical kit. He turned his back to her and took long, heavy strides toward the door.
"Save your tears," he threw over his shoulder, his tone laced with venom. "Keep them for your precious Erick."