"Well", a bright and all-too-familiar voice cut through the garage's silence. “This is not the boyfriend I pictured you would find.”
That voice was too familiar… Lisa!
Victor stood up and crossed his arms, watching the new visitor approach.
"Holy shit, El," Lisa breathed, her voice echoing slightly. Then her gaze slid past Elena still on the floor, and landed on Victor. Her grin turned sharp, appreciative. "And hello. You must be the guy in charge of the robes."
Victor didn't answer. His eyes, cold and assessing with a questioning look.
"Oh dont’t worry, I won’t hold it against you… Yet," Lisa said, winking before turning her full attention back to Elena. Her expression softened into real concern. "You look like you just went three rounds with a cement mixer. What the hell have they been having you do for work?"
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Elena closed the distance and hugged her. The familiar scent of Lisa's citrus shampoo cut through the garages cold air. It was an anchor. "It's a long story. Mostly just trying not to die of boredom."
"Liar," Lisa whispered into her hair, squeezing tight. She pulled back, holding Elena by the shoulders. Her eyes were knowing. "You're all marked up. Your neck. Your arms."
"Training," Elena said, the word too quick. "Self-defense. It's nothing."
Lisa just raised an eyebrow. She looped her arm through Elena's. "Right. Well, this dungeon is creepy as hell. Show me where you're being held captive. I was promised robes and, frankly, I feel underdressed." She threw a last, lingering look over her shoulder at Victor. "Coming, robe guy?"
"Your belongings have been taken to Miss Rossi's room," Victor said, his tone flat. "I am not a bellhop." He gave a slight, dismissive nod and turned, his boots silent on the stone as he disappeared down a side corridor.
"Ooh, frosty," Lisa murmured, impressed. "Okay, lead the way, Cinderella. I need the full tour."
The walk to Elena's room was a quiet, hurried affair. Elena felt exposed, every sound of their footsteps too loud. She pointed out nothing, just moved. When she finally shut the heavy oak door behind them, she leaned against it, exhaling a breath she felt like she'd been holding since Lisa arrived.
Lisa whistled low, spinning in a slow circle. "Okay, not a dungeon. A really fancy prison cell. This bathroom is bigger than my apartment." She ran a hand over the silk duvet, peered at the art on the walls. "So. Spill. Not the sanitized version. The real one."
Elena pushed off the door. Her body ached, a deep, satisfying throb from the training. "I need a shower. I smell like gym mat and Victor's disapproval."
"Don't change the subject," Lisa said, but she flopped onto the bed, making herself at home. "Go on. I'll interrogate you through the door."
The bathroom was a sanctuary of marble and steam. Elena turned the water as hot as she could stand and stepped under the spray. The heat hit her bruises, the sore muscles, a sharp contrast that made her gasp. She heard the bathroom door open.
Lisa didn't come in. She just leaned against the doorframe, a silhouette through the foggy glass of the shower. "You know, for someone who used to change in a locked closet in gym class, you're being very casual about this."
Elena froze, soap in her hands. She hadn't even thought about it. The shyness, the instinctive need to cover up, was just… gone. Her body wasn't just hers anymore; it had been seen, touched, known. The memory of Liam's hands, his mouth, his eyes watching her, flashed hot under her skin. She rinsed off, the water sluicing down her back. "It's just you," she said, but the excuse was weak.
"Uh huh," Lisa said. Her voice was closer now. She'd come in and sat on the closed toilet lid. "So. How was it?"
The question hung in the steam. Elena shut off the water. The sudden silence was loud. "How was what?"
"Don't. Don't do that. I've known you since you thought boys had cooties. You have a glow. And not, like, a healthy lifestyle glow. A 'I finally got laid' glow. It's practically radioactive."
Elena reached for a towel, wrapping it tightly around herself. She stepped out of the shower, the cool air raising goosebumps on her legs. She couldn't look at Lisa. "It's not like that."
"Elena." Lisa's voice lost its teasing edge. It was soft, serious. "Your tells are screaming. You didn't flinch when I walked in. You stood under that water like you owned it. And you keep touching that spot on your collarbone, right there, like it's a secret."
Elena's fingers dropped from her skin as if burned. She saw the faint, yellowing bruise in the mirror, a souvenir from Liam's mouth. Her face flushed, a heat that had nothing to do with the shower.
Lisa saw the surrender. "So. Victor, then? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Silent Disapproval? I mean, I get the appeal. He looks like he could break you in half. In a fun way."
"No!" The word burst out of Elena, too loud, too sharp. "God, no. Not Victor."
A slow, wide smile spread across Lisa's face. "Ohhh. Oh, shit. It's the boss. The mysterious Liam Thorn." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "You slept with the dragon in his tower. Details. Now. Was it… castle-appropriate? Four-poster bed? Suits of armor watching?"
Elena sank onto the plush bathmat, her back against the cold tub. The towel was damp against her skin. She hugged her knees to her chest. "It wasn't like that. It wasn't… a fling."
"Okay," Lisa said, drawing the word out. "So it was terrible. Giant letdown. All brooding, no action."
"No." Elena's voice was a whisper. She looked at her friend, really looked at her. Lisa's teasing mask was down, replaced by pure, unwavering focus. It was the look she got when she was hacking a system, finding the flaw. Elena was the flaw. "It wasn't terrible. It was… everything. It was like being unmade."
Lisa was silent for a long moment. "Okay," she said again, quieter. "So it's serious."
"I don't know what it is," Elena admitted, the truth a raw scrape in her throat. "He's… he's in pieces, Lisa. And sometimes he lets me see them. And other times he shoves me into a uniform and acts like I'm staff. He's at war with a ghost. And I'm just… here. In the middle of it."
"But you slept with him."
"Yes."
"And?"
Elena rested her forehead on her knees. The memory wasn't just visual; it was a full-body echo. The weight of him. The taste of his skin. The broken sound of his breath in her ear. "And it felt like the only true thing that's happened to me in months. Like I finally understood what wanting was. Not just… theoretical. Aching. Needing. It hurt."
"Good hurt or bad hurt?"
"Both. It's all both with him."
Lisa let out a low whistle. "Well, thank god. I was worried. The only other options I had were the cook I haven't met, or the butler… but he's a bit old for you, miss."
A choked laugh escaped Elena. It felt strange in her chest. "Presley is… kind. In his own way. But no."
"So it's just the devastatingly rich, probably dangerous, emotionally shattered lord of the manor then. Simple." Lisa stood up and offered a hand. "Come on. Get dressed. You can't have a life-altering sexual awakening sitting on a bathroom floor. It's undignified."
Elena took her hand, letting Lisa pull her up. The simple touch, the normalcy of it, made her eyes sting. "What do I do?"
"About the hot, broken billionaire who owns you and apparently rocks your world?" Lisa shrugged, a glint back in her eye. "You survive. And you take notes. For research purposes. Now, show me this insane wardrobe. I need to see what a kept woman wears."
Elena followed her into the bedroom, the towel still wrapped around her. The confession hung in the air between them, a new shape to her captivity. Lisa knew. The one tether to her old life now knew the deepest secret of her new one. It made it real. It made her want for Liam, her confusion, her fear, all of it, terrifyingly real.