The greenhouse was my sanctuary.
When I was a prisoner here, I grew poisons—oleander, nightshade, foxglove. I grew them because I wanted to feel dangerous. I wanted to hold death in my hands because I had no control over my life.
Now, the poisons were gone.
I stood in the center of the glass structure, surrounded by orchids, jasmine, and climbing roses. The air was thick with humidity and the scent of life. Sunlight streamed through the glass, warming my back.
I looked down at my left hand.
The massive radiant-cut diamond from the auction glittered in the light. It was beautiful, yes. But it was heavy. Every time I looked at it, I remembered the cold fear of that night. I remembered Cassian saying, "You are Elena Moretti. You are my property."
"Penny for your thoughts?"
I turned. Cassian stood in the doorway.
He wasn't wearing his usual suit. He was dressed simply in dark jeans and a soft gray sweater. He looked younger like this. Lighter.
