My clothes are laying miserably on the floor and my body shivers again. God! I need to get a grip. I pull the covers along as I get down from the bed and down the two steps that lead to the closet. I push it open to the side and walk into it.

Layers of clothes, underwear and gowns from different designers hang in accordance. I go to the nightwear section and pick a black satin robe. This mini mall does not surprise me at all. What else do I expect from a man like Rolan.

I brush through my hair with my right hand as I place my feet into the fluffy white slippers. The night breeze is chilly and I should probably close the balcony glass door but for some reason I love the chilly atmosphere and will love for it to remain like this for a while.

Ignoring the playful curtains as they fly in and out of the room, I  pad across to the door where my gift is right behind it. I take a breath in. It's now or never. My right hand curls the white doorknob and turns it down before pushing it open.

The almond crisp smell of paper saunters into my nostrils and I breathe it in deeply till it fills my lungs. Before me is a long rectangular shaped room with a spherical shaped ceiling, all covered with white walls. Are they walls? The room is pretty dark and I can hardly tell a thing except for the white painted wall covering.

I search the wall beside me for a switch and I see one with a paper that has a; pull up' written on it glued to the dial. Following instructions, I pull up the switch and a motor-like vibration sound fills the room as the white walls which cover the whole ceiling slowly draws down.

My eyes widen in wonderment. The Moscow night sky comes into view with a glass like ceiling covering it. The array of glimmering stars filter the dark deep blue sky and the off white half moon not far from sight. Surrounding the ceilings are oval light bulbs that lit up the room.

So beautiful and serene. They remind me of one particular sexually frustrated sadist.

The walls are no longer white but teal green with white swirling designs. I climb a few steps down. Standing in front of me are four rows of shelves with a large space in the middle where a patio study is located up front. Short flower shaped chandeliers drop from the ceilings, brightening up the pathway to the patio study.

I walk down the path in the middle, inhaling the wood polish and spicy cologne. Makes me realize that he's been here. Of course he has.

Leaning closer to the right, the soft padding of my feet against the floorboard echoes across the room as I make my way to the study. My hands stretch and I allow my fingers to touch and skip through the hard cover books of different colors on the shelf.

Right up three little steps, I walk on the green rug,  behind the round flat wooden chair to the brown squared desk where a few books are stacked beside two transparent cylinder vase sets of orchids and right in the middle of the table is a lamp made in the from of a little tree with its leaves as bulbs of light.

This part directly faces the little garden which is behind a pair of glass doors where fireflies play around the flowers and plants and climbing green plants climb their way up the handles to frame the door, adding to its beauty. After the desk is a white chaise lounge with pillows arranged on it alongside a cream colored blanket.

"Don't get lost in it."

His words ring in my head and I can't stop the stupid smile that stretches my face or the fluttering beating of my heart. But when I see the title of the first book on top, I gasp and rush towards it.

Absent-mindedly, I sit on the chair and bring it closer to the desk. My hands shake. Why do they shake? I pick the book which makes a bubble of emotions burst in me. "Gone with the wind." by Margaret Mitchell stares right back at me in its red hardcover beauty.

My fingers trail each letter of the title as I stare in amazement. I open the book and a note falls from it to the table.

Opening it, my smile broadens at the sight of Rolan's initials at the top and beneath it is a one line sentence. "Helena spilled the names of your favorites to me." My eyes roll sarcastically. Of course she would be the clumsy feline that spilled. I continue with the rest of the writing after the sentence.

"This may be a marriage of convenience and there might never be love between us but we will build a family together, a strong empire unlike any we know. When I marry you Davinia, I don't plan on ever letting you go even if the world splits and if you must go, go to the library and find your escape in between the pages of another world entirely different from yours. I hope you love your gift, Anís"

My heartbeat quickens. Hurriedly, I fold the paper and put it in a brown antique jar on the table. I try to steady my heart, am I coming down with a type of sickness that's making my heart beat this way? Either way, I ignore it.

The oak musty book scent with a hint of vanilla waffles into my nostrils as I open the book and settle further into my seat. Memories come flooding to me. Reading has always been my means of escape when my world gets nasty. When mother is on her episode and my very existence irks her to the very end. I lock myself in the library and read till I'm fully out of reality but when papa died and I was made Don, I became distant with books.

"I'll just read a chapter." I mutter to myself as my excited eyes begin to read the chapter about Scarlett O'Hara