It was the second time she'd heard him say that. What did he mean? Could he actually be thinking of some way to turn back time? That was delusional. Darcy did her best to keep her expression neutral and pulled her hand from his grasp. "Where are we now? We're not in our own state, are we?" Zane named a place. Darcy hadn't heard of it, but that confirmed it—they were definitely abroad. During dinner, Darcy spoke up. "I'd like to eat downstairs." Zane hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But Darcy, I should warn you. The place is guarded inside and out. Even a fly wouldn't get past them unnoticed." He was warning her.Darcy gave him a sidelong glance, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Wow. You think way too highly of me. I'm just a weak woman, yet you've got an army on me?" Zane smiled thinly, "You're anything but weak. You're far too clever." He reached out to touch her face, but she recoiled, turning her head away in disgust. A flicker of pain crossed Zane's face, but he quickly buried it. It's fine. Just one more night. After the hypnotist arrives tomorrow, everything will be like it used to be. "Come on. Dinner's ready." Following Zane downstairs, Darcy took the opportunity to scrutinize the layout and personnel more closely than she had that afternoon. Her observations were clearer now. Two guards stood inside the front door. Outside, two more were stationed at the main gate. They were massive, with dark, weathered skin that suggested they were local to the island.Looking at their sheer size and strength, Darcy had no doubt they could snap her like a twig without breaking a sweat. It has to be brains, not brawn. A direct confrontation is suicide. Dinner was, unsurprisingly, more sandwiches. It seemed the maid's culinary skills were limited. Darcy ate slowly, mostly to delay her return to the locked bedroom upstairs. She dreaded what Zane might try next. Zane, however, misinterpreted her slow pace. Thinking she disliked the food, he rolled up his sleeves and asked the maid, "Do we have any pasta?" The maid blinked, then nodded. "Spaghetti, yes." Zane looked at Darcy. "Don't force yourself if you don't like it. I'll make you some spaghetti." The maid's eyes practically sparkled, as if to say, See? Your boyfriend is so considerate. Darcy fought the urge to roll her eyes again. How starved for romance do you have to be to mistake captivity for some grand love story? But the sandwich was dry. Spaghetti would be a definite upgrade. As Zane busied himself in the kitchen, Darcy got up and walked over to the window. "Oh, miss, you can't go outside," the maid whispered urgently. Darcy kept her voice calm. "I'm not going out. Just getting some fresh air." Seeing that Darcy stayed put, the maid relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on her. After all, Zane had promised a significant sum of money if the task was completed without any issues—enough to secure a comfortable life for her and her family. Standing by the window, Darcy pretended to close her eyes and breathe in the night air, while her mind worked furiously. This window should be directly below the bathroom window upstairs. That means jumping from upstairs would land me right here in front of it.She studied the ground below. It was bare earth, and it looked soft, like freshly turned soil. A few empty planters sat nearby, suggesting it had once been a garden. If I angle the jump right, I could land on that soft patch. Should minimize injury. The only remaining problem was the guards at the door. Were they on watch all night too? Her thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand on her shoulder. "Darcy, the spaghetti's ready. Come try it." Zane's voice was close. Darcy murmured an acknowledgment and moved past him to sit at the table. "How is it? Good?" Zane asked, his expression full of expectation. "I remember back when you used to come to my apartment to tidy up. You'd always cook this amazing spread afterwards. I didn't appreciate it then, but later, I missed it so much. Darcy, from now on, I'll treat you ten times better. I'll make up for everything, I promise." Darcy just gave him a cold, withering look, saying nothing. The scorn in her eyes was palpable. Zane didn't get angry. He could wait one more night. Just then, his phone rang in his pocket. Zane pulled it out, his face tense. He clearly wanted to answer, but glanced at Darcy. He stood up, instructing the maid, "Keep an eye on her," before striding quickly into a study and closing the door firmly behind him. Only then did he answer the call. Whoever that is, it's important. And it's probably about me, or he wouldn't be so secretive. Darcy noted this silently and continued eating her pasta. Inside the study, Zane was seething. "Dr. Kincaid," he said through gritted teeth, "we had an agreement. You were supposed to arrive tomorrow. You're backing out again."On the other end, Jason Kincaid's tone was casual. "I'm not the one backing out, Mr. Vance. It's Ms. Roby. I can't reach her at all, and she hasn't paid the fee we agreed upon. Not a single penny." Zane felt a vein throbbing in his temple. "How much? Name your price." It always comes down to money. He'd known this slippery guy might try to pull something at the last minute. At least he was prepared.