❃ Chapter Seventeen - Caught Red-handed

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Zoe
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At the sound of the snap that echoed in my ears I immediately jumped upright in bed. My eyes ran across the dark room as my hands shook so bad, you would have thought I had stayed outside for hours. A fine shin of sweat coated my skin, my white gown and my covers soaked in the terrible smell.

I desperately eyed the room until I was sure... there was nothing I could worry about. No whip, no father... no chains around my wrists... nothing.

Relieved that I had just a nightmare, I kept my stare trained on the mirror from my vanity. The darkness in my room was all consuming, I couldn't make out a thing other than the mirror, until my eyes managed to adjust to the weak moonlight that sipped through the windows.

My throat was dry, too dry for me to be able to sleep again. Moving to the edge of my bed, I jumped off easily, capable of holding my own weight after the whipping wounds healed a little.

Two weeks since that whipping, one week since I started the lessons torture all over again. Thankfully, I actually managed to stay intact by keeping a good girl act and following every instruction given. My back wasn't anymore reddened around the wounds, but they were still in the process of healing.

I moved slowly in the direction of the bathroom, going to take the glass of water from the counter. As I turned on the water to pour into the glass, I realized not even a drop of water poured.

Frowning, I turned it on and off several times, until I leaned down and looked closely to make sure I was doing the right thing. Too tired to figure even that out, I put my palm flatly over the spot the jet was supposed to come from.

But... no water. What the hell?

Sniffling from the cold that had latched onto my body, I looked around, lost for a moment. It would have been a good idea to just go back in bed, but now... the lack of hydration only made me want to hydrate more, my mouth becoming drier than the Sahara desert.

I dragged a hand through my hair our of annoyance, because now I had to leave my room and go all the way into the kitchen to get some water from the fridge. Or at least some milk. Either way, I was getting myself something to drink.

Putting the glass down on the counter, I walked over to Elijah's door with the intention to knock, but stopped midway. He must've been asleep. It was definitely too late for him to be awake, and there was no light coming from his room.

I sighed, but shook my head as I went over to my door and opened it in the most quiet manner, not even making a squeak. I closed it just as silently before I walked down the hallway. Going a few stairs down to the foyer, I stopped when I heard voices coming from father's office.

"If we're doing this with Santiago, I can't have a Black attacking at any moment." My father was saying, his voice a little shushed.

"What are you planning? You know the guy can't be killed. And you don't even have his identity." Who sounded like Giorgio replied.

"What if... I get my hands on someone from his gang. They have to know him, don't they? They're his own people." Father said.

"I don't know," Giorgio hesitated, "I wouldn't risk it. There is one thing messing with the Clans, but a Black? Not a good idea."

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