Sixty Three

Isabella

I am woken by the sun shining through the window. My head is heavy and throbbing with pain, but it isn't my biggest problem—I can't feel my hands. What the hell is happening? I think, my eyes shooting sideways, taking in the straps tying me down. I jerk my hands, but the sound of metal scraping against wood nearly makes my brain burst. I wail silently and take a look around. There is nobody there. I am clearly in Dante's room. I try remembering what happened last night, but the only thing I can recall is my pole dance. I groan, thinking about all the things that must have happened when we got back—Dante must have been so infuriated.