When Adrian gives me another piece of the sandwich, I chew, letting the spicy taste explode in my mouth. It’s rich and exquisite and might very well be the most delicious meal I’ve had in…ever.

I don’t protest as he continues to feed me, his fingers brushing against my lips with each bite. He has really masculine fingers—long, lean, and calloused enough to cause a weird sensation whenever they meet my skin—no matter how brief the contact.

He’s patient, not attempting to hurry the process, as if he has all the time in the world to feed me. He fixes me with a disapproving stare, pausing when I don’t chew long enough or when I do it fast, and that’s my cue to slow down or he’ll take my meal away.

By the time the sandwich is finished, I’m full. Not bloated like when Larry decides to go kamikaze and steal three sandwiches, but I’m full enough that I swallow the final bite with a sigh. I close my eyes to commit the taste to memory in case it’s the last delicious meal I have for months.

It would be perfect if some alcohol came with it, too. I can feel the headache starting at the back of my skull, and I can’t afford to be sober for too long.

When I open my eyes, I find Adrian watching me intently. His forefinger taps on his thigh in a quiet rhythm as if it’s participating in his observation.

I’m about to break eye contact—because it’s still as unnerving as hell—when his next gesture stops me. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

Adrian plunges his index and middle finger into his mouth, sucking on the tips that are a bit greasy from how he fed me. The way his lips wrap around his skin sends a weird sensation through me. I want it to stop, but at the same time, I don’t know if I’ll like it if it stops.

He pops his fingers out and finishes by licking his thumb before he uses a paper napkin.

I force my gaze away to stare through the window. The city’s endless buildings fly by us, but I can only see the way he thrust his fingers into his mouth as if he…was thrusting them somewhere else and—

My very inappropriate thoughts are interrupted when the car stops in front of a black metal gate that’s as tall and as high as one at a palace.

It slowly opens with a loud creak that can be heard from inside the car. Bulky Blond drives inside before it’s fully open.

I stare behind us and, sure enough, the gate is now closing.

Is this where Adrian lives?

I wasn’t exactly focused on the road on the way here, but we drove far enough to be somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

I let my gaze slide ahead, thinking that I should engrave the details in my brain in case I need to use them later. But for what and to go where? The moment that black gate closes, I feel as if I’m trapped in a labyrinth. The fact that Bulky Blond keeps driving on and on down the driveway might have something to do with it, but that’s not the only reason I feel like I’ve stepped into a place I shouldn’t have.

The only thing I can make out are shadows of trees that look like ghosts at the threshold of a rich prince’s gate, waiting to take his life for his cruelty. Wasn’t there a story like that once upon a time? A prince who refused to feed the poor was cursed by a witch to become a beast.

The car finally stops in front of a gigantic mansion.

No. It’s more like a castle from medieval times, but built in modern times.

The moon is the only light projecting down on it, and it’s barely enough since it’s partially hidden behind the clouds.

An eerie shadow falls on the dark building with its two-story architecture and its imposing size that sits on a large piece of land.

When people see a grandiose building, they either react with awe or intimidation, or both. Me, on the other hand?

I feel like fleeing.

Like I should sprint toward the black gate and climb it to escape.

Adrian and his guards get out of the car first. I’m not in a hurry. I can even spend the night here. It’s warm and the leather seats are more comfortable than anything I’ve slept on.

Adrian, however, has other plans. He opens the door and extends his palm to me. I’m tempted to refuse it, but that would only start an unwanted battle. I’m so exhausted from this day’s events, and all I want to do is crawl into a corner and sleep.

So I take his hand with a resounding sigh. He pulls me out and places a palm at the small of my back. The gesture of possessiveness, of staking his claim, doesn’t escape me, but I don’t dwell on it much either, because he’s not doing it to me.

He’s doing it to his wife.

As long as I don’t consider myself his wife and can separate reality from the role I’m playing, everything will be fine.

And most importantly, I’ll survive.

I allow him to lead me to a double metal door with a passcode bar on top. He runs his fingertip over the sensor and the door opens with a beep.

He gently pushes me ahead of him and I nearly stumble from the atrocious heels hurting my feet. Adrian wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me steady. As soon as I make sure I can stand, I attempt to wiggle away.

His presence still gives me a weird feeling. The creeps mixed with fear and…something else I’d rather not identify.

“Stop trying to push away from me, Lia.”

“I’m not Lia,” I whisper.

“Yes, you are, and you’ll start acting like it.”

“I can’t just act like another woman.”

He pauses, his finger tapping once against his thigh. “Did you just talk back to me?”

“No.” My voice is small. I really don’t want to induce his wrath right now. Or ever, for that matter.

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he says ever so calmly, “Your presence here is for one reason only—to be Lia. You’ll learn to act like it. In fact, you’ll be her.”

Yeah, right.

But I don’t voice that thought, because judging by his brief show of anger just now, that would only get me in trouble.

I expect Bulky Blond and Crooked Nose to follow us, but they don’t. The door closes behind us with a click and an automatic light comes on overhead in a vast reception area with pure white walls, dark wood flooring, and a round chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

There’s a simple white table in the middle of the floor, surrounded by cream-colored high-back chairs. A wide, sweeping staircase with white railings leads upstairs. The hall is elegant and hints at a minimalist, refined taste, but there’s something wrong.