Chapter 3 Mean
LYSANDRA
A sharp buzz jolted me awake. I hissed as i woke up on a strange but soft bed, the room was pitch black.
The buzzer sounded again, continuously. A voice followed, flat and mechanical from a hidden speaker. “Mr. Vale expects you for breakfast in fifteen minutes.”
I fumbled for a light switch. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“It is 6:45 a.m., Miss Thorne. And you have fifteen minutes to be there.”
The speaker clicked off. Then I stumbled out of bed in a pyjamas i was given yesterday. My clothes from last night were gone. In the walk-in closet, a single, simple black dress hung alone. My size. I dressed on autopilot.
The dining room was all cold glass and sharp angles. He was already there, reading a financial tablet, a half-empty cup of black coffee beside him. He didn’t look up.
“Sit.”
I pulled out the heavy chair opposite him. The scrape of wood on marble was obscenely loud.
A silent woman in a plain uniform placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. Another filled my water glass.
He finally put his tablet down. “You’re late.”
“I was told fifteen minutes and I’m here.”
“Fifteen minutes was the warning. Punctuality is expected immediately.” He took a sip of coffee. “Eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask if you were hungry. I said eat. Monitoring your health is part of the asset’s maintenance.”
I picked up a fork, my knuckles white. “Asset maintenance. Is that what this is? Do you change my oil every three months, too?”
A flicker flared in his storm-grey eyes. Not amusement. Annoyance. “Your wit is noted, and unnecessary. Eat the eggs.”
I took a small, tasteless bite. “My sister, her treatment is this morning.”
“I am aware.”
“I need to know it happens.”
“You will know.”
“How? You won’t even let me call. How will I know?”
He leaned back, watching me. “Because I will tell you. That is how this works. My information is your only source. You will learn to trust it.”
“Trust?” The word came out as a laugh. “You bought me. Trust has never been part of the deal.”
“It is the entire deal. Your trust that I will hold up my end is the only thing that will make this… tolerable for you. Fight it, and you will drown in your own doubt. Now. The eggs.”
I took another bite, the food like ash in my mouth. We ate in silence for a full minute. The only sound was the click of his cup on the saucer.
“What did you do before?” he asked, his tone conversational, as if asking about the weather.
“Before what? Before you purchased me?”
“Yes.”
“I worked. I took care of my sister.”
“At what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. I’m asking.”
I put my fork down. “I was a research assistant at a university. I fetched coffee and fact-checked papers for professors who never learned my name. None of them ever cared about me, apparently. But it paid the bills.”
“Why there?”
“It was flexible. When Elara had a bad day, I could leave. They didn’t care, as long as the work got done.”
“And before that?”
“What is this? An interrogation?”
“It’s a conversation over breakfast. So, indulge me. What did you study?”
I looked at him, this man who owned me, asking about a life he’d erased. “Music composition.”
His eyebrows lifted a fraction of a millimeter. I guess he was surprised. “An impractical choice.”
“It was a passion. Before practicality was a requirement for survival.”
“Do you still play?”
“A piano? No. My last apartment had thin walls, and the neighbors complained.” I looked around the sterile, echoing room. “I don’t imagine anyone would complain here.”
“No,” he said, his voice flat. “They wouldn’t.” He picked up his tablet again. “The treatment is scheduled for 9:05 a.m. Dr. Evangeline Shaw is leading the procedure. She is the best in her field, so you can rest assured. I’ll inform you when it is concluded.”
The air left my lungs in a rush. Just like that. The information I desperately needed, offered without me begging for it. A tactic... I knew it was a tactic. Still, it worked.
“Thank you.”
He didn’t look up from his screen. “Finish your toast.”
CASSIAN
She picked at the food. Every movement was a struggle between defiance and defeat. The research assistant detail was new, it came just at the right time.
Music composition? That was… unexpected. A flaw in the profile. An echo of something else. It required further investigation.
“The treatment is scheduled for 9:05 a.m. Dr. Evangeline Shaw is leading the procedure. She is the best in her field. I’ll inform you when it is concluded.”
The gratitude on her face was instantaneous. As expected , they're all so predictable. Provide the barest shred of necessary data and they latch onto it like a lifeline. It was the easiest way to ensure compliance. Control the information, control the person.
My phone vibrated on the table. Sebastian Croft. Again.
Lysandra’s eyes flickered to it. “Your rival is persistent.”
“He’s bored. It makes him tedious.”
“What does he want?”
“What everyone wants. A piece of what I’ve built. He’s not creative enough to build his own.” I sent the call to voicemail. “He’ll hear about last night. He’ll see it as an eccentricity or even a vulnerability. But he will be wrong.”
“And how will you stop him from being wrong?”
“By ensuring you are not a vulnerability.” I stood up, breakfast concluded. “Your day is your own. The library is down the hall to the left. Do not attempt to access any computers or external lines. The doors to the terrace are locked. Don't bother testing them.”
“So my options are… read a book or stare at a wall?”
“For now,” I said, walking toward the door. “Learn to be still, Lysandra. It will be the most valuable skill you acquire here.”
I left her sitting at the table, a lone figure in a vast, empty room. The first report on her father’s movements was due in an hour. The game was already in motion. She just didn’t know she was on the board.
