Chapter 5 A Deal With the Devil

Avery's POV

The clinking of silverware echoed gently in the silence between us.I sat across from my father at the long mahogany dining table, idly pushing scrambled eggs around my plate. I wasn't hungry, not even a little.

Not with the events of last night still playing on a loop in my mind, as I was lost in thoughts.Mike's voice. His smirk. The look in his eyes when he realized who I truly was. It was as though he had studied me for a long time and knew how to go around me.

The betrayal that shimmered beneath the triumph.I barely heard the door creak open behind me until the maid's timid voice broke through the silence."Sir... there's a letter. It came in a black envelope. No return address."She was holding the letter like it carried a disease. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed it to my father.I didn't reach for it.

I watched, wondering what could be in the letter.Something about the black envelope gave me a chill. Call it intuition,or maybe it was just paranoia. Either way, I knew better than to act first.My father took it without a word, tearing the flap open. I noticed the moment his eyes met the contents,his entire posture changed.

He stiffened, his brows furrowed deeply, and then... the letter and the pictures slipped from his hands like his soul had just left him.I blinked."What is it?" I asked, standing slowly.He didn't answer. His eyes were wide, hollow in shock.My stomach dropped. I walked around the table, crouched to the floor, and picked up the papers.And froze.There it was. A photograph. Crystal clear and taken up-close.Jerry Drummond.Lying unconscious,or possibly dead,in a bathtub.

His skin pale. His mouth slightly open. Tubes barely visible beneath the waterline. The image was haunting.I forced my expression to remain calm.My father had a heart condition. One strong emotion could be the final nail in his coffin. As much as I despised him, I wasn't ready for him to drop dead at my feet."What... is this?"

I asked, my voice cool, like I hadn't just felt my blood turn to ice.He didn't answer. He simply sat there, pale, sweat beginning to bead at his forehead.And then his phone rang.The ringtone was sharp, slicing through the tension in the room like a blade. I glanced at him as he wiped his palm against his pants before answering.

"Yes?" he said.Then, something strange happened.His body relaxed. His posture straightened. The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.I stared, confused, what could he have heard that changed his expression.Whoever was on the other end of that call had just brought him back to life."Yes, yes, of course," he said eagerly. "I'll let her know immediately."Her?Me?What has this call got to do with me, I thought.

He ended the call and set the phone down with a thud, turning to me with a gleam in his eye I hadn't seen in months."We have a job," he said, his voice tinged with something close to excitement. "A very special one. Just for you."I narrowed my eyes."I'm not doing this anymore, Raymond. I told you that."

He didn't flinch. Didn't even acknowledge the anger behind my words."We don't have a choice," he said firmly. "We're bankrupt."His eyes locked with mine,cold, determined, and completely devoid of empathy."If we don't take this, we lose everything. This is the only way to survive."My hands curled into fists."You keep saying 'we,'" I snapped.

"But it's always me. You sit here and pull the strings while I go out there and wear the mask. You gamble everything, and I pay the price!"He slammed his palm on the table."You are all I have, Avery!""And what am I to you? A pawn? A tool? A daughter you can pimp out to the highest bidder?" My voice shook now, and my chest tightened.He stood slowly, chest heaving. "You will do this, Avery.

"No," I said flatly.He stared at me.I stood up suddenly, the chair screeching against the tiled floor as I pushed it back."I'm not your puppet," I whispered, my voice low and trembling with fury. "Not anymore."I turned and walked away, ignoring his calls,his fragile voice growing desperate behind me.

"Avery,Avery, come back!"I kept walking, my heels hitting the stairs hard enough to echo.He doesn't deserve my tears.He doesn't even deserve my words.I reached my room, slammed the door shut behind me, and locked it.I stood still for a moment, my chest rising and falling like a wave crashing against rocks. The letter. The photograph. The phone call. The sudden switch in my father's mood... Something wasn't right.No, everything wasn't right.

I moved to the window, pulling the curtain slightly to peer outside. I didn't know what I was looking for,maybe a car parked where it shouldn't be. Maybe Mike watching from the shadows. But all I saw was morning sunshine painting the driveway like nothing had happened. I stepped back, my eyes drifting to my reflection in the mirror. Same face. Same eyes. Same haunted expression.

But something inside me had shifted.I could feel it.This wasn't about survival anymore. It wasn't about pretending or pleasing anyone,not my father, not Mike, not anyone.This was about reclaiming my life.Whatever "job" he had in mind... whatever trap he was about to drag me into next,I needed to be two steps ahead this time. Because if I wasn't? I'd be the one in the bathtub next.I sat down on my bed,legs crossed and clearly pissed.

I knew my father could go to any length just to get money and return back to his usual affluent life but pimping me up every now and then?I stood up and walked over to my set of drawers, pulled it open and got the album I made for the memories of myself and Miles.

"You shouldn't have died," I whispered."Or better still,you should have taken me along, at least,then I wouldn't be the cause of people's death."