0022 ~ Elodie ~ “You are going to deeply regret choosing to do that, Elodie.” The low, lethal vibration of his voice caused the entire lining of my stomach to turn to ice.
In an instant, the righteous anger that had been fueling my defiance vanished, completely overridden by a paralyzing, suffocating terror.
He didn’t scream.
He didn’t look unhinged.
The utter lack of warmth in his eyes made him infinitely more terrifying than an angry man would have been.
Slowly, Vincent set the silver plate back down onto the tray with a deliberate, metallic click.
He reached into the pocket of his tailored khaki trousers, pulling out his smartphone.
His dark eyes never left mine as his thumb swiped across the glass screen, dialing a number.
The line didn’t even ring twice before it was answered on the other end.
“Anderson,” Vincent spoke into the receiver, his tone casual, as if he were checking the weather.
“Lockwood speaking.
Yeah, I need you to handle a specific piece of business regarding Vicky Stonewall—” “What…what are you doing?” I choked out, the sudden realization of his words hitting me like a physical blow to the chest.
“Yes, the girl currently admitted to the county hospital,” Vincent continued smoothly into the phone, completely ignoring my interruption.
“The one where I personally shot her through the leg.
I want it handled immediately.” “Stop it, please!” I shrieked, my body straining hard against the nylon ropes binding my wrists to the mahogany chair.
The horrific memories rushed back in a blinding flash—the brutal beating Vicky had endured, the sound of the gunshot, and the sight of her bone shattering under Vincent’s hands.
“Yeah, just eliminate the asset.
I need the matter settled swiftly, neatly, and thoroughly organized,” he instructed the voice on the line.
“No, please!
I am begging you, don’t hurt my sister anymore!
Please, Vincent, stop!” I screamed, my voice fracturing as complete, blind panic seized my heart.
Vincent sharply lowered the phone an inch, his dark eyes snapping to mine with a lethal glint.
“Hold your tongue!” he hissed.
“Vincent, please,” I wept, entirely stripped of my pride as hot tears finally spilled over my eyelashes, burning my cheeks.
My breathing grew shallow and rapid, my chest heaving against the tight cords.
“Okay…okay, I will listen to you.
I will obey you.
I will do absolutely anything you want me to do from now on!
Just please, don’t hurt my little sister again.
I am begging you please!
Please, spare her!” The silence in the dining hall was deafening, broken only by my ragged, desperate sobs.
Vincent stared at me for several agonizing seconds.
For a fleeting fraction of a moment, the harsh lines around his jaw seemed to ease, but his icy composure remained entirely intact.
He raised the phone back to his ear.
“Change of plans, Anderson.
The girl lives.
In fact, ensure she is moved to a private wing, given the absolute best medical attention, and completely taken care of.
In a good way.
Clear?” He listened for a brief second before ending the call, sliding the device back into his pocket.
“That was an incredibly narrow escape for her, wasn’t it, darling?” A slow, cruel smirk spread across his face as a broken whimper escaped my lips.
What kind of human being was he?
He wasn’t a man at all.
He was something far worse than a devil—a living, breathing monster born from the deepest dark.
“You look absolutely pathetic right now,” he noted, clicking his tongue with a twisted amusement that laced his words.
I sniffed hard, forcing my trembling chin up to meet his gaze through my blurred vision.
“Just…please promise me you won’t hurt Vicky.” “I have no reason to touch her,” Vincent replied flatly, straightening his posture.
“Provided you follow my directives and respect the rules of this estate without exception.” “I will,” I whispered weakly, every ounce of strength and rebellion completely sapped from my bones.
I felt entirely hollowed out.
My gaze shifted slightly, passing over Vincent’s broad shoulder to where Anne was standing near the sideboard.
The poor housekeeper looked entirely frozen with fear, her fingers clutching a linen cloth.
When our eyes met, she offered me a deeply apologetic, sympathetic look, her own eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Good girl,” Vincent murmured.
He snapped his fingers once, looking up at his personal guard.
“Luca, untie her.” The henchman stepped forward instantly, his large hands working efficiently to loosen the tight knots around my wrists and ankles.
“I have absolutely no intention of spending my evening playing nursemaid and spoon-feeding you,” Vincent stated, rising from the adjacent chair and strolling back to his original position at the head of the table.
“Clean your plate.” As the ropes fell away, a dull ache radiated through my flesh.
I rubbed at the red, raw imprints left on my wrists, staring down at the mashed potatoes with absolute revulsion.
I possessed zero appetite, but the memory of the phone call was a knife pressed against my throat.
I knew I had to eat to prevent Vincent’s wrath from returning.
With trembling fingers, I picked up the silver spoon.
I forced a bite past my lips, swallowing past the lump in my throat, followed by another, and another.
I kept my head down, forcing the food down until the white porcelain of the plate was entirely bare.
“I’m finished,” I whispered into the quiet room.
Vincent didn’t look up from his own plate; he merely cast a glance toward Luca.
The guard offered a brief, confirming nod, indicating that I had complied with the order and cleared the dish.
“Excellent,” Vincent smirked, setting his fork down.
“How did you find the meal?
Was dinner satisfactory?” He asked the question with a terrifying lightness, as if we hadn’t just been bartering for my sister’s life a minute ago.
“D—dinner…the dinner was very nice, thank you,” I stammered, my voice shaking.
“I am truly pleased to hear that,” Vincent replied smoothly.
He then turned his head toward the opposite side of the long table.
“What about you, brother?
Are you finished with your service?” Logan, who had remained entirely frozen throughout the entire ordeal, kept his eyes glued to his lap.
“Yes,” he muttered quietly.
He looked incredibly frail, the heavy chemicals running through his veins making it difficult for him to even hold his head up.
“Good,” Vincent said.
He shifted his dark eyes back to me, an unreadable expression crossing his features.
“Elodie, since you have both concluded your dinner, why don’t you assist my brother back up to the master suite?” Without offering a single word of protest, I slid out of my chair, my legs feeling like lead as I walked around the perimeter of the table to where Logan sat.
“Let’s go, Logan,” I murmured softly, keeping my tone as gentle as possible.
I reached out, my fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of his sleeve to help him stand.
The moment my skin made contact with his, Logan let out a sharp, ragged gasp and flinched violently away from my touch, his grey eyes widening in panic.
I pulled my hand back instantly, hurt by the reaction but understanding the fear embedded in this house.
“Are you alright?” I asked softly.
“I’m fine,” he whispered automatically, his voice trembling as he forced his weak limbs to stand up from the chair.
This time, I didn’t make the mistake of reaching for him again.
I simply stood by his side, matching his slow, halting pace as we began the long walk toward the grand foyer.
Before we reached the base of the stairs, I paused for a split second, casting one final look back into the dining hall.
Vincent’s back was turned toward us.
He hadn’t bothered to watch us depart.
He was simply sitting alone at the head of the massive table, quietly continuing his meal in perfect, unbothered isolation.
I shook my head, fighting back a fresh wave of tears as we began to ascend the stairs.
I followed Logan toward the dark, cavernous bedroom we were forced to share under the pretense of a legal marriage.
*Is this truly the script for the rest of my existence?
Living in absolute terror?* I knew the truth.
If I didn’t have Vicky to protect—if my sister hadn’t been bound to this nightmare—I would have chosen to end my own life long before I ever let Vincent drag me into that courthouse to sign my name next to his.
But I couldn’t leave.
It would be an act of supreme selfishness to abandon Vicky, leaving her entirely alone to face the cruelty of Vincent Lockwood and his world.
Our parents were long gone, buried in the past, but we were still here.
I had to endure.
I had to stay alive for the sake of my little sister, even if the reality I was forced to inhabit was an absolute, living hell.