"Why should I hire you?" says the cold voice of Michelangelo.

"Because Mr Garrison kept me on longer than he's ever kept anyone on. I have a letter of recommendation and I want to work here." I say.

This morning I received my final pay-check from Ruspin so I can only assume that he isn't planning on kidnapping me at the moment. But in the event that he changes his mind, this is my contingency plan. Michelangelo will help me if it comes down to it, not because I'm deluded enough to expect that he'll somehow care for me, but because I know he hates Ruspin enough to keep him away from whatever he wants.

"I'm hardly Mr Garrison." He says. "Although, I do wonder why you left him in such a hurry."

"That's none of your concern." I say brusquely. "Don't you remember when you told me that the job offer here stands until I accept it. One would think you'd be thrilled that I'm taking it."

"Start with these." He says, after a moment's deliberation, and throws a jumble of files on the desk.

I told Cage about everything this morning; it's better that he be prepared for anything. I'm also sort of hoping that he won't share this information with Celeste, because, she could just as easily tattle to her brother... but knowing Cage, I'm going to be sorely disappointed.

Bellamy hasn't shown his face either and I'm kind of happy for that; I don't know what I plan to say or do to him when he finally does. Annalise has been following me around for the past few days though, so I think I know what's keeping him away. I hate the fact that he's still so close to me despite all I've done to escape him. I hate the fact that the British army docked in a submarine off the coast of New York and that they've sealed all the boarders with the assistance of the US military. There's no way for me to escape, but it also means, that if Ruspin does try to take me, I'll take solace that it won't be easy to lug me out of this bloody country.

Dropping the files on my new desk, which FYI isn't as nice as my former working area, I plunk onto my chair. Dr Lennox decided to minus my old view and add an office-mate to the equation, if the extra desk is any indication. I swivel; eyes honing in on the colourful, exotic, floral bouquet smack dab in the middle of my desk, and occupying more than half the net area. It's probably a surprise from Cage, wishing me well on my first day.

I pluck out the tile from between the gorgeous flowers and glance at it.

Restroom- is actually a euphemism for a place where people urinate and defecate

Flowers are euphemisms for apologies; admitting to a grievous wrong.

"Angelica?"

My eyes snap to Kalvin and my fingers go slack on the anonymous card.

"Here to kill me?" I demand.

More or less, I'm sharing the sentiment.

"I'm here to beg you for your forgiveness." He says.

"Really?" I demand fiercely, although, internally I soften and become palatable.

"I've done a great wrong against you." he says, looking remorseful. The Kalvin I knew was a terrible actor... that title went to Bellamy, which seems fitting as he's a traitorous wench, anyway, Kalvin is being sincere... and it hits me that the flowers are his apology.

"What are you going to do about it?" I ask.

"Everything I can." He shifts apprehensively, "It's just that when I saw you all this anger that I had towards your parents upwelled to the surface like magma and I just couldn't contain it. I spewed it at you because I was mad you continued life without me and... I knew you didn't deserve it; my rant."

Gobsmacked by his soliloquy, I take a minute to consider. I don't particularly need any more complications in my life but Kalvin is in my life in either instance.

"Let's just get to work."



It's not eight at night, and I haven't set foot out of this cubicle. Kalvin still sits across from me, but every so often he scampers off in a frenzy, returning in a similar manner. The only thing that's passed my lips since this morning is air. No words. No food. No water. Although I do have some water in my kidney that would like to exit my body, but I'm too swamped to act on it.

I'm going to be prepared tomorrow. What size of adult pampers do I buy?

As I slave over my newest document I find myself wishing for Mr Garrison. He was mean and snobbish and stingy but he never overworked me or anyone else as far as I know. Michelangelo is a slave-driver in every sense of the word. I feel as though I'm in a plantation where the sugar cane is papers and money and I have to harvest them.

The jail like presence and atmosphere doesn't help one bit either. I find myself wishing for a visitor every once in awhile.

The presence that fills my doorway is like the answer to my prayers. The figure though, it looks astoundingly like Mr Garrison. I doubt he's here to kidnap me, he'd have such a hard time dragging me kicking and screaming past all the people employed here.

He steps into my office and to my profoundly shocking surprise, it's Michelangelo.

"Our king is having a ball in a week." He says.

Surely that would be the talk of the town, Cage would've made a point to attend... and force me to.

"It's invite only and only a select group even know about the event." He says, "You will attend and mingle, some business men will be there, you are going to get their business by whatever means necessary. Then we will proceed to England to inspect my holdings."

My heart makes the vertical trek into my throat at this. "I can't go to England sir, personal reasons."

He frowns, but nods, "Kalvin will accompany me."

I nod, taking his consequent silence as dismissal, and decide to head home.

His supercilious voice halts the process of my prompt exodus.

"Are you done with your tasks?"

My non-responsiveness is telling.

"You can leave when you've concluded your work."

"I won't be done until tomorrow. At least!" I protest.

He shrugs, "I provided you with resources, Kalvin... what more can I do short of doing the tasks myself."

Kalvin was supposed to be helping me? He's been running around all day, but none of it has been for me.

"I can see that he wasn't aiding you." remarks Michelangelo drily, "You and I will complete these files."

I stand there flabbergasted as he walks to my office.

When I gain the gall to enter I find him already making a dent in the pile.

"You're quick." I comment.

"I've had practice." He says, looking up with a smirk. His smirk is scary... but cute. Like a tiger perhaps.

Stealing Kalvin's chair, I inch closer to the desk and grab a bundle for myself.

"Did Ruspin allow you to wear such gaudy articles of clothing?"

"He never allowed me to do anything, there was no way he would ever convince me to skimp on my basic rights."

"Then I perceive that I won't have much luck in that regard either."

"Very perceptive." I mutter, then after a few beats of silence, "What's the deal with you two anyway?"

"I'm sure he's already poisoned your mind with his version." He hisses, suddenly turning chafe.

"He hasn't mentioned anything." I say.

"It isn't something I like to talk about." He says, "But why don't we talk about you?"

"Probably because I'm boring."

"People who say they're boring are often the most intriguing."

"Well, I can safely say that I like American wine."

"Don't they have any in England?" he asks.

Laughing, I reply, "You own a majority of the land, you tell me."

"Well your economy could use some sprucing up."

"Are you afraid of anything?" I ask.

"My mother." He says, looking vaguely uncomfortable, "She was murdered. Ruspin caused it. He also caused me to lose any shot I had at the throne... but now, I'm planning to take it."

My mouth drops open. How many contenders are there for the throne? We might as well convert it into the next hunger games.

"Uh, that's a big undertaking." I remark.

"It is, but I'm going to make this kingdom into a safe place where people won't have to watch their family members die."

My heart aches for him, having so much taken away so traumatically. He has the right motivation to be king... I still don't know Ruspin's. I consider telling him about Rupsin's plans but I still don't know the other half of the story, I don't even know this half of the story.

He still sits there stoically as though not caring for my judgement or approval.

On that note, I'm fairly certain that he would abstain from revealing the details of his plan to me but it is nice to know how he thinks.

Or wants me to think. I've played this game before and a man like him, with everything to gain; would tell you everything just to have your support. I feel a strong sense of uncertainty... a conflict of alternating interests between him and Rupsin. They both have the potential and mettle to lie their way into power but there's always the problem of the probability of innocence.

So I follow my boss' league. I shut my mouth and do my work.



"I can't believe that you told him that!" exclaims Melinda. She's the car dealer's wife and quite nice once she overcomes her initial bashfulness. I'm just telling her about my escapades with Ruspin. I also mentioned the notes and the flowers from Kalvin(they're a daily occurence)

"Oh my God. I just remembered something."

"What?" she asks, sipping her drink.

"He spoke French to me on that trip. I have it recorded on my phone and I never got around to translating it." I say chirpily. "Although, I think he might have insulted me."

She smiles softly, "Let's find out."

Whipping out my phone, I move to the recordings and bring up the translator app. I'm just about to hit play, then the screaming commences.

Everyone is clustered around one of the servers. Some have their phones out, a few wretch. It's most likely a fried rat, I've heard that those are pretty common here. But as I make a path to the centre I stop short. A head. It's a head on a platter with a message stuffed in it's mouth like a pig.

It's Paige's head. Her severed head, transfixed in terror, covered in blood, partly scalped with a message in her mouth. Shoving my shock and sorrow aside, I peer at the message:

Think of this as an early marriage present princess.

I don't even need to ask. Prince Felix. This is most likely what would have happened to me.

It's not a question of getting caught to him... all he cares to ask himself is who's next.

I have to get out of this place. Knowing my parents they would've forged my signature on our engagement arrangements and Felix will cart me right past the guards. My parents will be elated at our wedding, all the while imagining which of their suggested methods I would use to kill him. Kill him before he kills you. That was my motivation. Kill him so your country won't suffer, was their failsafe for when the first one failed. Needless to say that neither won out due to my selfishness.

My selfishness. That's what brought us here. If I'd just done what they wanted like a good daughter an innocent person, my friend would still be alive. I stare at her severed head once more, finding eyes transfixed in horror for all eternity... everything whorls out of focus.

Michelangelo is suddenly in front of me his mouth contorting and his face etched with lines of concern. For me.

The guilt comes.

It drowns me.

It kills me.

It leaves me with the euphoric sensation of numbness.

"I need to leave."

"We need to talk. You can't be okay after what you just saw." He prods, a peculiar scrunched expression marring his pretty face.

"Let me go." I hiss, in no particular mood for his crap.

His grip is suddenly gone, as if lacking the energy to contain me. "As you wish." He says, walking away smoothly.

With trembling fingers, I extract my phone from my hand bag and dial the number of the only person who will make this right.

It rings once... twice... the call is ended! The nerve. He told me to call him and he doesn't even deign to answer!

I stand there and hit redial. Over and over. I'm determined to force an answer out of that money obsessed man. I mean, this is in his best interests, I'm sure the monetary gain out ways the time taken to answer my call in this case. He just needs to pick up and yell at me... that's all and everything will be alright.

"Angelica." My head snaps up to his and he looks satisfied. Nothing indefinitive about it. His satisfaction radiates outward like a nuclear explosion. Well, he's about to get what he wants... he's about to become King Ruspin.

"I want you to ransom me to my parents."