Andre's eyes flutter open, his vision blurry as his mind struggles to piece together the fragments of memory.
His gaze shifts, and he catches sight of a figure standing on the balcony. Her hair, dark and flowing, dances in the wind like a shadow that refuses to be tamed. She wears a form-fitting black top. Her hoodie tossed aside. sleek and purpose-driven.
A sudden flash of memory strikes him—the woman, masked, fighting him. The struggle. The needle.
"You," he mutters softly, as recognition dawns.
"Ah, so you're awake." The woman's voice cuts through his foggy mind, and in a blur of motion, she's by his side, her hand on his forehead. "A slight fever. Expected, given the circumstances."
He tries to sit up, the grogginess still clouding his mind, but the woman's gaze doesn't waver. Her eyes are sharp, assessing, calculating.
"Are you hurt?" she asks, her fingers probing his pulse, checking for signs of anything more dangerous than the dizziness clouding his head.
"No," Andre croaks, though his voice falters. He's still disoriented, but his attention is drawn to her. Her features are stunning—dark almond eyes, the rich, warm tan of her skin. An exotic beauty befitting royalty.
"What's your name?" Andre finally dares to ask, but she merely glances at him, a frown tugging at her lips.
"You're in no condition to be asking me about names," she says, her tone sharp, though it carries an undertone of amusement.
"I'm fine," Andre responds quickly, attempting to regain some dignity.
"Says someone who was busy being dead a few hours ago"
"A man wouldn't mind dying at the hands of such a beautiful lady."
"I think you'll be minding it soon enough," Red replies, her voice cool and cutting as she grabs his arms, flipping him over effortlessly. She continues to tie his hands up to avoid unnecessary trouble.
"I'd prefer you on a date."
"And I'd prefer you silent," she adds, her voice soft but final.
Andre's glare is sharp as he struggles against the restraints, but Red only smirks, unphased by his defiance. "Struggle more, and I'll tie you to a chair. You won't enjoy it."
As he faces the balcony again, Andre makes a bold move, pointing at the mask discarded on the floor. It catches Red's attention immediately. Her fingers brush her face, and for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crosses her expression.
"Oh" she mutters, realizing the mask had fallen off during their struggle.
"When you're done with your revelation, I'd like to hear the story behind all this."
Red's frown deepens, a momentary distraction as she thinks, her lips forming a tight line. "There is no story you" She presses her lips into a thin line before resuming, "You messed with the wrong people, Beaumont. And now I'm here."
Andre rolls his eyes, unbothered by the remark. He shifts again to look at her, unphased. "A prince has enemies. You didn't tell me anything new."
Red's lips curve into a tight smile, a look of incredulity mixed with something else—maybe amusement, or maybe something darker. "And you think you can just walk away from this?"
"Well, if you insist," Andre replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Perhaps you'll tell me your name, we're buddies now aren't we?"
"In your dreams, princeling," Red retorts, moving to grab her cell phone, her back turned to him.
"Leaving me like this, are you?" Andre calls out, his voice tinged with mock disappointment. "Shouldn't you keep your captive in sight?"
Red shoots him a glance over her shoulder, eyes narrowing. "I'm not in the mood for you right now. Plus your hands are tied, and your combat is no more better than a 5 year old against an adult."
"I simply didn't wish to hurt a beautiful lady."
"Fuck off,"
"Good night to you as well sweetheart, Though I just woke up."
Red walks up to him.
She punches him in the face.
Punches.
"They said no murder. Lucky you," Red muttered, her hand still hovering near his face, her eyes colder than before.
Andre grinned, despite the ache in his jaw. "Guess I'm just too irresistible to kill, huh?"
Her eyes flickered with something dangerous. "Don't flatter yourself, Beaumont. You're not the first to piss me off."
"Oh, I'm sure I'm a special case," he replied, tone dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, look at how gently you're treating me."
"I can do worse," she warned, stepping closer as she secured his wrists with a rope. "And I'll do it if you keep talking."
"Is that a promise, or just a threat?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the way she was trying to keep control of the situation.
"I'm not playing games, Prince. Don't push it. Maybe a punch wasn't enough. I should've broken your jaw. At least you'd talk less."
"Playing? I thought this was a war," he shot back, a teasing grin on his lips.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she secured his legs with a second knot, making sure he couldn't move. "Keep talking, and I'll gag you next."
"Fine, fine," he relented, though his grin never faded. "But you should know—someday, you might really fall deeply, hopelessly in love with me."
Red didn't respond to that, instead moving to grab a pillow off the couch. She settled down, her back to him, her body tense as she finally allowed herself to relax.
Andre tugged at the ropes, the reality of his situation setting in as his vision blurred with exhaustion. "Good night then... sweetheart."
Red muttered something under her breath, her back still to him as she pulled the blanket tighter. "Sleep tight, princeling."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________"But if you're hungry, maybe I'll order room service." She walks away with a sly grin.
It was evening of the next day. They hadn't eaten anything. Partially because she didn't know how to do that.
"You think I'll just play along?" Andre challenges, his voice rising, his tone dripping with disdain. "The moment you call for service, my guards will storm this place, and it won't end well for you."
Red pauses, a playful smirk on her lips. "That's why you'll be the one calling it in, pretty boy."
"What makes you so sure I won't report you the moment I get free?"
Her expression softens, just a bit, but there's no warmth in it. "We're buddies, aren't we? I'm not killing you right now, which should count for something. And you wouldn't dare inconvenience a poor, helpless maiden like me."
"Helpless? Poor maiden? You sure we're talking about you?" Andre replies dryly.
"We'll see" Red shoots back, her smile wicked and playful. She goes on to free his hands to order room service. She could say she was not hungry but one could go so long without a proper meal. Plus lincoln said she should enjoy her time at the hotel.
A swift motion and the dagger effortlessly cuts through the zip tie.
Suddenly, Andre's hand finds its way to her hair, and without thinking, he twirls a lock of it around his finger. "Well so much trouble for setting me free in the end. By the way you really do have the most fascinating hair," he mutters, his fingers gently teasing it. "I'd say it's my favorite part of this entire experience."
Red pauses for a moment, her gaze flicking to his hand, and then back up to his face. "You touch my hair again," she warns, her voice calm but carrying a lethal edge, "and I'll make sure you regret it."
Red walks over once again to her bag and pulls out a handcuff. "You really don't deserve to be free"