Page 17 of Secret Heir

“We can look later, baby,” I say, even though I can see how badly he wants to explore. “Let’s see where we’ll sleep first.”

There is are two bedrooms off the sitting area.

The first room is clearly meant for Daniel as it looks like something out of Pottery Barn Kids. There’s a full bed with a navy duvet, more toys, and a desk with paper and colored pencils already laid out.

The walls are painted a soft blue, and there are blackout curtains and a nightlight shaped like a rocket ship.

The second bedroom is mine. There’s a queen bed with white linens, a dresser, and a closet that’s huge. Everything is pristine, expensive, and completely impersonal.

The bathroom between the two bedrooms is marble and chrome, with a soaking tub and a shower that has more jets than I can count. Fluffy white towels are stacked on a warming rack.

Toiletries are lined up on the counter.

I recognize the expensive brands from department stores I could never afford to shop in.

It’s more space than Daniel and I have had in years. More luxury than I’ve seen since I left Brighton Beach. Everything a person could need.

And I hate it. I hate every beautiful, expensive inch of it.

Because it’s a cage. A gilded, gorgeous cage, but a cage nonetheless.

“I trust everything is satisfactory.” Maksim is standing in the doorway of the sitting room, watching us.

“It’s fine,” I say shortly.

“There are clothes in the closets. They should fit.” He pauses. “If you need anything, press the call button by the door. Someone will respond.”

“How considerate.” I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice.

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

He leaves, closing the door behind him, and I suddenly realize I haven’t checked the most important thing.

I set Daniel down on the sofa and walk to the suite door. I go to turn the handle.

It doesn’t move.

I try again, pulling harder. Nothing.

Locked. Of course it’s locked.

“Let me out.” I keep my voice level, aware of Daniel watching. “Open this door right now.”

Maksim is still nearby, because all I hear from beyond the door is, “No.”

My stomach bottoms. “You can’t keep us locked in here like prisoners.”

“I can, and I will.” His voice is hard. “Until I’m sure you won’t try to run with my son. This is your home now.”

“This isn’t a home,” I snap, hating the tremble in my voice. “It’s a prison.”

“Call it whatever you want,” he says coldly. “The door will remain locked at night. During the day, you’ll have access to the house and grounds, but there are guards, cameras, and alarms. If you try to leave with Daniel, you’ll be stopped.”

I gape at the door. “You can’t⁠—!”

“I can. Good night, Aria.” I can hear him start to walk away.

“Maksim!” I’m gripping the door handle so hard my knuckles are white. “You can’t just⁠—”