Page 14 of Stolen Temptation

Sorrow works through her expression before she gives me one last shaky smile. She wipes her face and sucks in a congested breath. “Sweet girl. Never give up until you find happiness.”

After pressing one final kiss to my cheek, she disappears out the door.

Watching her go for the last time is as painful as being ripped in half, but somehow it only motivates me to succeed in my own escape even more.

There’s no way in hell I’ll survive in this criminal world without her. If she goes, so must I.

I peek at myself in the mirror one last time.

Hating the sight of the long, dark barrel curls created by a flat iron, I wrestle my hair into a bun at the base of my neck and smooth the sides around my small heart-shaped face. Fear quivers in my brown eyes, the flecks of green in them barely visible. My mouth twitches, my lips rolling together.

Despite the fact that I’m fighting back tears, I definitely look like a stagehand.

A stagehand wearing way too much makeup.

After wiping some of it off, I fidget with my bun. It’s a hairdo Leo’s never seen me wear, and I’m hoping the effect, along with my change of clothes, will help disguise me.

From the pocket of my pants, I pull out the little earpiece Mae snagged from a table on our way in here for authenticity, so I’d match the other workers.

I love her so much and miss her already with every fiber of my being.

Keep it together, Kiara.

“This is my one chance.” I stare into my own eyes as I whisper those words. This is it.

I’ve opened doors probably a million times in my life, but when I pull open the one to the dressing room so I can leave, none of my experience prepares me for the deluge of fear that ices my veins.

The security guards stationed outside the entrance around the corner don’t glance my way. No one’s expecting me to run. Why would they? In twenty-four years of being a prisoner in this family, I’ve never attempted to flee. For a long time I had Mom to think of, then Mae.

Maybe that’s why I’m scared out of my mind as I hasten down this darkened corridor, trying to remember everything I noticed when we arrived a few hours ago. But it doesn’t work. I can’t recall anything.

Not when I’m this amped.

There was the long, panicky ride. There was Leo and a security detail leading me down into a dangerous, abandoned-subway-station-looking place. Then, echoey, torch-lit darkness that turned into winding corridors.

No shortcuts. No exits.

No ideas about how to escape on my own without being detected.

I zip around the next corner and find myself in a hallway that runs the circumference of the auction floor. Even though I’ve already seen it once, the sheer glitz of everything captures my breath.

Jazz pulses hazily through the air, and candles flicker, high and low, like in some kind of vintage New York City wedding spread. The place is fit for a royal ball. The impulse to paint the vivid party-scape before me pulses through my fingers, so I take a mental snapshot to tuck away for later.

For the moment, I need to keep my wits about me and figure out some way out of this place.

From my vantage point, I scan the room.

No sign of my monstrous cousin. Thank God.

I stick to the shadows, avoiding the auction floor at all costs. Definitely won’t be able to escape if I’m passed out from a panic attack in the middle of the room.

Still, I can’t help but be awed by all the gilt and glamour. Since when does Leo put on events of this caliber? Before they carted him off to prison, he certainly never did.

This venue is exactly what I’d imagine the inside of a piece of amethyst might look like. Darkness, shadows, and purple crystals with white glints of light bouncing off them. Candelabras, gemstones in the walls, and sky-high ceilings.

Despite my rush, I can’t help but peek at the spectacle every few moments.In my mind, I sketch out the painting I’d make based on this moment, allowing the dazzle of the room to distract me for a couple more seconds.

A bout of masculine laughter jolts me from my vision, spiking a fresh surge of anxiety. I return to scanning the room for an exit. While openings mark the cavernous walls, not a single one of them has a neon green exit sign hanging overhead.