Captive: Hopeless

Chapter 7 - Fables

Daniella woke on the bed, not the ground, which surprised her. She lifted herself up against the pillows and stilled.

This was not the warehouse but a room with a real bed with white linen. White furniture with splashes of chocolate brown and beige scattered here and there, an eggshell carpet, and a door with no inside handle met her gaze.

She slowly sat up, her body slightly stiff but not sore, and swung her legs down to the ground, noting that someone had dressed her in actual men's pajamas, also white.

Another door drew her attention. She went over to it, pulling the handle to reveal a real bathroom with a shower stall, clean clothes set out for her, and a fluffy towel.

"Be ready by twelve," warned a sticky note against the mirror in unfamiliar formal, cursive handwriting.

The watch against the wall read eleven forty-five, and with a little spurt of trepidation, she quickly stepped out of her clothes and into the shower.

***

Her hair was still clean from the night before, and she pulled a comb through the short length of it that she could almost fasten in a short ponytail, which was incredible, given the minimal passage of time.

The modest bra and panties, a pair of jeans, an undershirt, and a blouse paired with leather boots with one-inch heels felt like a return of her dignity. A little taller than your average woman, she had never developed any fondness for high heels, and these suited her just fine—towering over others was not her thing.

She barely returned to the room when the door swung open, and a tall man rather broad of shoulder entered, dressed in a formal suit with actual dark glasses and highly polished shoes. He came across as intimidating, reminding her of a movie version of a CIA agent.

The way his gaze immediately located her, as if he assessed her as a threat, didn't go unnoticed. He stepped out of the way and motioned wordlessly for her to go outside, where another man dressed in the same manner but blond, not dark-haired, waited. This one never even glanced in her direction.

They started walking, and she followed, her heels sinking into the expensive carpet as they passed many doorways in this nondescript part of the house before reaching a pretty impressive foyer that looked like it came from another world.

Although she was no expert, the furniture, carpets, paintings, decor, and curtains exuded affluence, and whoever lived here had to be insanely rich.

The men continued through the house and into another blank wing, but the walk was shorter.

***

A solid wooden door opened into an office, where a woman waited. She motioned the men outside, and they closed the door behind them as she turned to stare at Daniella.

Shorter than her and inhumanly beautiful, she also wore dark glasses but took them off. Her eyes were an intense, unique green and intimidatingly direct in their perusal.

"Sit, Daniella," she invited, but it was not a request.

The woman radiated danger and power.

Who was she?

Once seated, the lady studied Daniella silently until she didn't know where to look or what to do with her hands.

"You turned out lovely, and it is a pity your genes were so resistant to the change. You're beautiful and perfect but, unfortunately, too pure to let go. I could sell you to some lesser lord or prince if your bloodline were more diluted. They'd enjoy you as a sex toy they could own for a couple of million, and your life might be comfortable, near normal."