The Start of Time

Chapter 42

"Happy birthday, Princess."

After yesterday, I am knocked out cold, drool trying to escape through my lips, frizzy waves sprawling everywhere, cheek smushed ungracefully against the pillow. I squinch my nose as a stray hair falls down my face slowly, and I hesitantly open my eyes as Declan pushes it away gently.

"Is it morning already?" I mumble against the sheet. "Can't we just stay in bed a little longer."

"We could," he checks his watch. "But do you really want to spend your birthday in bed?"

"If it's with you, then yes."

"Please don't tempt me," he almost whines in a husky groan. "I've got so many things planned for you today, and you could easily talk me into ditching every last one of them."

I don't need to hear his pitiful voice more than once, so I climb out of bed, dragging him with me, easily switching roles. "Well, hurry up and get ready. We've got a lot of things to do today."

Once we're out, the first place is enough to make my day.

"Before we go in, you have to promise you won't stay all day."

Inside is a huge classic library with exhibits from famous authors, a huge open ballroom, books filling up every wall all the way to the artistically designed ceiling. It's pulled straight out of a book I just finished because, of course, the leading man has to have a huge ballroom to dance with his feisty heroine.

The dark wood finish is the perfect contrast to the millions of hardcover novels lining the shelves. There are books with faded covers and fraying corners from before New York was even a state. Another section holds colorful titles from this year alone.

Every genre, every period, every color—all collected in one immense, beautiful room.

For the first time since I arrived, I feel like this is home, and he's madly in love with me. My mafia boss who kidnapped me only has a soft spot for reading. Well, and me.

Wait.

I think I've shifted to the wrong plot line. However, Declan Wilder would make one hella hot mafia boss.

Not only do I get to channel my Belle from Beauty and the Beast, but I also get to gawk over their most recent exhibit. Typically, places like this feature paintings and sculptures from famous artists, but today it showcases portraits by Irving Penn. He wanted to put photography on the same playing field as paintings and sculptures, so I guess, in a way, he did.

"Hey," he gets my attention from the other side of the corridor. "This looks just like the picture you took of Maverick while playing with his camera."

"Mmm, maybe a little. That one is obviously in black and white, though." I laugh.

"Some of these pictures are so fucking weird." He elevates himself on the stairs, ignoring the sign, before twisting his face to mimic the portrait in this collection. "We could be famous. I'll model as the arrogant, rich boss, and you'll—"

"Declan, what are you doing? Get down from there." I interrupt.

"I'm just saying. We could be an exhibit in a museum one day."

"We won't be able to do much of anything if you get us banned."

He hops down just as one of the workers round the corner. "I have a much better way to get us banned."

He grabs my hand to pull me behind the staircase. Before I can take in my new surroundings, he lunges towards me in some newfound fury, forcing my back against the wall.