0015 ~ Elodie ~ My eyes flicked open long before the first pale streaks of dawn managed to cut through the heavy draperies.
Expecting to find Vincent dead to the world beside me, I turned over, prepared to map out a quiet escape from the mattress.
Instead, the space beside me was completely vacant, the sheets already cold to the touch.
Before I could puzzle over where he had gone, my phone vibrated sharply on the nightstand.
I scrambled to grab it, the screen illuminating my face.
There were three missed calls from my boss, followed by a blunt text message demanding to know why I hadn’t shown up for work yet.
Panic flared in my chest.
I sat up abruptly, my mind racing for an excuse, when the low, muffled murmur of a masculine voice drifted in from the balcony.
I slid out of bed, creeping across the room on tiptoe until I reached the cracked glass door.
Outside, Vincent stood with his back to me, the crisp morning air rustling his dark hair.
He was locked in an intense phone conversation, tossing out sharp directives about loading docks, arrival times, and cargo securing without a single hint of morning fatigue.
Bored and thoroughly exhausted by the mere sound of his criminal logistics, I slipped away to the bathroom.
By the time I finished changing out of the silk nightwear and fixing myself as best I could, Vincent had already marched back into the bedroom.
He had bypassed the fresh clothes Margaret left, opting instead to don his tailored outfit from the previous day.
He looked immaculate, dangerous, and entirely ready to conquer the world.
“Oh, good, you’re finally awake,” he said, barely looking up as he adjusted his cuffs.
“We need to move.
I have a critical meeting scheduled for ten o’clock sharp, so let’s get going.” The departure was a blur of forced pleasantries.
We offered our brief goodbyes to the elder Pembertons down in the foyer.
I made a point to embrace Margaret, thanking her genuinely for her incredible hospitality and warmth—a fleeting slice of normalcy that felt entirely undeserved given the circumstances.
Then, Vincent practically ushered me out the front door and into the passenger seat of his sleek sports car.
The engine roared to life, and we tore down the winding driveway, leaving the estate behind.
The moment the car hit the asphalt of the main highway, the reality of my text messages came crashing back.
I braced myself and turned to look at his sharp profile.
“I have a job that I need to return to,” I said, keeping my tone as level as possible.
“My boss is already looking for me.” Vincent didn’t blink.
He kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel.
“You will need to notify them of your immediate resignation.
From now on, your sole responsibility is to stay home and act as a dutiful housewife to my brother.” My jaw dropped, a hot wave of disbelief washing over me.
“I beg your pardon?” “Did you honestly think the penance I laid out for your family would be comfortable and smooth?” He let out a dry, mocking chuckle, glancing at me for a split second.
“It’s not, darling.
You are going to send a formal resignation to your employer today.
My brother requires constant companionship, and you are going to provide it.” He spoke with such casual arrogance it felt like he was speaking absolute gibberish.
The sheer entitlement of it snapped something inside me.
I shook my head violently, my hand flying out to slam hard against the leather dashboard.
“Stop the car,” I commanded, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Vincent didn’t even ease his foot off the accelerator.
He ignored me entirely, treating my outburst like the petulant whining of a child.
“I said stop the fucking car!” I screamed, the raw frustration tearing from my throat.
The sudden volume caught him off guard.
With a sharp twist of the wheel, Vincent jerked the vehicle off the main highway, the tires crunching violently against the gravel shoulder as he brought the machine to a sudden, jarring halt.
The moment the wheels stopped rolling, I unbuckled my belt, threw the passenger door open, and hopped out into the cool morning air.
I began marching down the side of the road, my legs shaking but determined to put distance between myself and that suffocating vehicle.
“If you keep walking down that road, Elodie, you had better consider the consequences for your little sister,” his voice boomed out from the open car window.
The invisible leash tightened around my neck, halting me instantly.
I froze in my tracks, my back still rigidly turned to him.
The mention of Vicky’s name was like a physical blow.
Hot, heavy tears spilled over my eyelashes, tracking silently down my burning cheeks.
My shoulders began to tremble as a quiet, broken sob escaped me.
I felt entirely caged, trapped in a seamless, invisible prison without the slightest hope of parole.
Turning around slowly, I faced him.
Vincent had climbed out of the vehicle, leaning back against the hood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching my breakdown with an unreadable expression.
“Are you entirely finished shedding your crocodile tears?” he asked calmly, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets.
“Because if you are, get back into the car.” “No,” I said, my voice cracking but firm.
“No?” He scoffed, a dark eyebrow sliding up his forehead in amused disbelief.
“No,” I repeated, planting my feet.
“You are playing a highly dangerous game, Elodie,” he warned, his tone dropping into a quiet, menacing register.
“Get back into the vehicle before you pour gasoline on a fire you cannot extinguish.” “I am fully aware that I am the one paying the price for my sister’s catastrophic mistake!” I yelled back, wiping the hot tears from my face with the back of my hand.
“But do you truly have to be this unyielding?
You forced me to abandon my fiancé who I intend to marry in three months!
You destroyed the perfect, quiet life I built for myself just so I could keep my sister alive.
The absolute least you can do is let me keep my job.
It is the one solitary piece of sanity I have left to cling to right now.
Stripping that away from me isn’t just business, Vincent.
It is purely wicked and cruel.” Vincent tilted his jaw slightly, his gaze drifting over my face as if weighing the utility of my misery against the disruption of his plans.
For a long, agonizing beat, he stood in silence.
Finally, he shifted his posture, his eyes hardening into flint.
“Get in the car, Elodie.
Right now.
And I am not asking you a second time,” he barked, the sheer authority in his voice vibrating through the open space.
I squeezed my hands into tight, white-knuckled fists, my nails biting into my palms.
“You are a monster,” I whispered.
“Yeah, yeah.
Tell me something I haven’t heard a thousand times before,” he replied nonchalantly, turning around to slide back into the driver’s seat.
Realizing the futility of a standoff on a deserted highway, I marched back to the passenger side and slammed myself into the leather seat.
Vincent shifted into drive, pulling us back onto the main road without another word.
When the iron gates of the Lockwood mansion finally parted to welcome us back, the atmosphere inside felt heavier than before.
We stepped into the grand foyer, instantly greeted by Anne and Gareth, who stood waiting in perfect, rigid alignment.
“Welcome home, Mr.
Vincent, Mrs.
Lockwood,” they offered in a synchronized, rehearsed unison.
“Please, just call me Elodie.
Or Miss Stonewall,” I corrected sharply, the legal title tasting like ash in my mouth.
The moment the words left my lips, Vincent whirled around, his dark gaze pinned strictly onto the staff.
“Do not address her by that name,” he commanded, his voice slicing through the room.
“You will address her as Mrs.
Lockwood.
Always.
Am I understood?” “Yes, Mr.
Vincent,” Anne and Gareth chanted together, offering a deep, submissive bow this time.
“Now, where is my brother?” Vincent asked, turning as Anne stepped forward to carefully take our heavy outer coats.
“He is just about to head downstairs for breakfast, sir,” Anne replied quickly.
“Will you be joining him in the dining room?” “Yes, but I cannot linger.
I have an urgent meeting to attend to across town this morning,” Vincent ordered, checking his watch.
“Set the table and ensure the service is fast.” Anne nodded obediently and scurried off toward the kitchens.
Vincent immediately turned his attention to Gareth, his eyes narrowing.
“I noticed the front gardens on our way in.
The hedges look incredibly sloppy.
Tell the gardener to fix his handiwork immediately.
If it isn’t perfect by evening, tell him he’s dismissed.” “I will handle it right away, sir,” Gareth nodded frantically before disappearing down the western corridor.
The entire household existed in a state of absolute terror around him, a fact that became more glaringly obvious with every passing second.
Even I could feel the residual dread settling into my bones.
“Let’s have breakfast, shall we?” Vincent turned back to me, a sudden, charming smile flashing across his face as he extended his arm, waiting for me to join him.
He escorted me deep into the eastern wing of the estate, guiding me into what could only be described as a massive dining hall rather than a simple room.
High above us hung an immense, breathtaking crystal chandelier that threw brilliant fractures of light across the space.
Below it sat a massive, polished table, its dark wood waxed to a mirror shine, surrounded by at least twenty-five high-backed chairs.
Vincent naturally claimed the absolute head of the table, exuding the dominant, unyielding aura of a man who owned everything his eyes landed on.
I intentionally bypassed the seats closest to him, moving down the length of the wood to sit a full two chairs away.
“Running away from me already, sweetheart?” he murmured, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.
I turned my head away, completely ignoring the bait.
Before the silence could stretch, the grand double doors of the dining hall burst open.
Joy, one of the household staff rattled into the room, her usual composed demeanor completely shattered.
Her face was pale, her hands shaking as she clutched her apron.
“Boss…your brother—” She cut herself off, gasping for breath.
Vincent sat up instantly, the lazy amusement vanishing from his features as his entire posture turned sharp and alert.
“What about my brother?
Speak, Joy.” “He…he is threatening to end his life, sir!” she cried out, her voice pitching with sheer panic.
“He… he managed to steal a surgical scalpel from one of the visiting physician’s medical kits!” Vincent turned to me, a flash of genuine, devastating horror crossing his face.
Without uttering a single word, he launched himself out of his chair, the heavy seat screeching against the floor as he raced out of the dining hall.
Joy sprinted right on his heels, leaving me sitting completely alone in the cavernous room, dumbfounded and entirely speechless at the chaos unfolding around me.