Page 26 of His Forbidden Obsession

He was gone, and I was back in my room.

Bang.

Someone was knocking on my door.

“Open the door if you want to eat.”

Food. I was starving. I couldn’t lose my chance to eat, no matter how much I wanted Lorenzo back. I stumbled to my feet, tied my robe, and pushed my hair from my face. I opened the door, and the guard shoved a tray at me. I almost dropped it since I was trying to hold it with one hand. I gasped in pain when I had to grab the side with my injured arm.

“Eat up,” the man said. “I don’t know when you’ll get more.”

He slammed the door as I jumped back.

I looked down at the tray. There was a small sandwich and some thin soup. The sandwich was filled with turkey, which I disliked, and the soup looked grayish and unappetizing. I ate it all. What choice did I have?

The next few days dragged by. I wasn’t given anything else to eat except a piece of bread on the third day. I spent most of my time crying or sleeping, often dreaming of Lorenzo coming back to rescue me. I didn’t care what he made me do in the dreams. I was willing to let him have me any way he wanted. A sane person would probably crave independence after growing up the way I had. They would never want anyone telling them what to do after, but I didn’t feel that way at all. I craved someone who would take care of me, protect me, and tell me what they wanted from me. I needed rules and restrictions, but I didn’t need abuse.

“I deserve a chance to see my son.”

My mother was outside, yelling at the guard. What was she doing here? I hadn’t thought my father was going to let her attend the wedding, and I couldn’t think of any other reason she’d be here.

I was supposed to be married the next day. I’d lost track of days, so I only knew because one of the guards had told me to be presentable today because someone would be coming to test out the style for my hair and makeup. It was going to take some serious work to cover all the bruises on my face.

The lock turned, and the door opened. I rolled over to see my mother standing there.

“Niko, are you okay?” I realized she was sober—or at least mostly so. How had that happened?

“I’m fine.”

She frowned. “Don’t lie to me.”

I’d been lying to myself as much as her. If I believed it, maybe I’d have the strength to get out of bed. She turned to the guard who stood behind her. “Leave us.”

I hadn’t heard her speak with that kind of authority in her voice in years. When I was young, she occasionally tried to stand up to my father. It never did any good, but I still hated that she’d stopped.

Shockingly, the man stepped back into the hall.

“We don’t need you out there either,” my mother said, but the man shook his head.

“Dimitri wants me to stay here. Nikolai is not to be left without guards under any circumstances.”

“Then at least close the damn door.”

My mouth fell open as I stared at her. This was not the woman I’d left in New York.

When we were as alone as we could be, she looked me up and down. “You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, and, oh my God, what happened to your arm?”

“I… I fell.”

“Nikolai, I already told you not to lie to me. I didn’t come all this way to help you for you to act like I’m stupid.”

This was the mother I remembered from my childhood, not the woman she’d become in the last decade. How had she changed so much? I’d only been here at my father’s house for three months.

“Mom, you… I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I told that son of a bitch I was determined to attend my son’s wedding. He thinks I’m too weak to do anything, but he’s wrong. It’s time for you to get out of here.”

“What?”