Chapter 3 Chapter 3
I knew what would happen. If the visit went perfectly, he'd be in a good mood for a little while, and I would be safe. But if it didn't—if the CEO saw something he didn't like, if he thought the factory was underperforming, if Vincent made one wrong move—it would all come crashing down on me. He wouldn't show his frustration to the CEO. He'd bring it all home. He would take it out on me.
Vincent's laugh echoed through the house as he talked about his plans for the big day. He was already rehearsing what he would say and how he would show off his work. I stood there, like a phantom in my own home, a silent observer of a storm that was about to hit. He was talking about a promotion, but all I could think about was what would befall me if it all went downhill.
Saturdays were my only escape. My one sliver of freedom. The orphanage was just twenty minutes outside of Emberhallow, a long, lonely stretch of asphalt that curved through a patch of woods. It was the only place I was allowed to go by myself. The town wasn't on this road, and Vincent said the orphanage's reputation was good for his, so he allowed it. To him, it was a charity case, but to me, it was my lifeline. The quiet, the sound of my own footsteps, the air that didn't smell like his cologne—it was all mine. It was just me and the road.
I was halfway there, lost in my own thoughts, when I heard it. The low rumble of an engine, a powerful purr that was completely out of place on this road. It wasn't the sound of a factory truck or the old beaters the local kids drove. It sounded like something expensive. I didn't look up; I just kept my eyes on the pavement, a habit I'd gotten into. Don't look at anything for too long. Don't call attention to yourself. Those were Vincent’s words.
The car, a long, black machine that looked like it belonged on a movie set, passed me in a blur of polished steel and tinted glass. I held my breath, waiting for the sound to fade, but it didn't. The car's brakes screeched, and it pulled over just ahead of me. My stomach dropped. I knew this was trouble. I couldn't afford to attract any attention, especially from a stranger.
The driver’s door opened, and a man got out. I kept my head down, staring at my worn sneakers as they hit the gravel. I could feel his presence, a powerful, confident energy that was a stark contrast to the quiet of the road. My heart hammered against my ribs. I'd been warned about this. Vincent's voice echoed in my head, "Don't speak to anyone unless I tell you to. People are not to be trusted."
"Hey," he said, his voice low and smooth, like a sound from a different world. "I'm sorry to bother you. Do you know where the main road is?"
I said nothing. I just kept my head down and continued walking. My face felt hot, and a wave of pure terror washed over me. I couldn't talk to him. I couldn't even look at him. I just had to keep walking and pretend he wasn't there. He was a stranger. An unknown. And to me, that made him a threat.
"Wait," he said, and I heard his footsteps as he tried to catch up. He wasn't yelling, but the word itself was a command, a demand for my attention.
I didn't answer. I just quickened my pace. I couldn't risk it. The consequences of disobeying Vincent were too great. I wasn't just afraid of him; I was terrified of what he would do to me if he ever found out I had talked to a stranger, especially a man who was an outsider, a wild card in my tightly controlled life. The last thing I needed was to bring his world into mine.
I heard the car door slam shut. The engine roared, and the sound of the tires on the asphalt faded as the car sped away, back the way it came. I didn't dare look up until the sound was completely gone.
Only then did I let out a shaky breath. My sanctuary, this quiet road, had been violated. And even though he was gone, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life, previously so small and predictable, had just intersected with something much larger and much more dangerous.
The orphanage was a sanctuary, my one safe place in this whole town. The air inside smelled of disinfectant and fresh-baked cookies, a comforting combination that was the complete opposite of Vincent’s home. The kids swarmed me the minute I walked through the door. I sat on the worn rug with them, helping them with a puzzle, the pieces a welcome distraction from the chaos of my life.
I couldn't hear the silence here. I couldn't feel the weight of a gaze I couldn't escape. Here, I was just Kira, not Vincent's wife. Here, I was just me. For an hour, maybe two, I could forget about the pain, the rules I had to follow, and the cage I lived in. It was a temporary reprieve, but it was enough to keep me from breaking.
Vincent’s POV
The air in my office felt clean and crisp and smelled of success. The reports on my desk were pristine, a testament to my hard work. I’d done my job, and I’d done it well. The numbers I submitted to the head office were perfect. I’d manipulated them just enough to show profit while cutting costs in all the right places.
Emberhallow was a gold mine, and I was the one pulling all the strings. The CEO would be impressed; I knew it. A raise was on the way. Maybe even a promotion. I leaned back in my chair, a smug grin on my face. My phone buzzed, a text from my assistant. She was ready to meet me for lunch. My life was perfect. I had power, money, and a beautiful wife who did everything I said. The factory was mine; the town was mine.
But then my office door opened without a knock. My smile faltered. A man stood in the doorway, a stranger. His suit was tailored to perfection, and his face was calm and unreadable. He walked in, his gaze sweeping over the office, his eyes like chips of ice. I knew who he was. This was the CEO, Talon Steele.
