Chapter 4

The ride back from the gala was a high-speed blur of city lights and suffocating silence. The adrenaline that had coursed through my veins, turning my fear into fuel, had evaporated, leaving behind a hollow, trembling exhaustion. I was acutely aware of Julian beside me, the faint scent of his cologne, the heat radiating from him in the cool confines of the car. He hadn't said a word since we'd left the ballroom, his profile a hard, unyielding line against the window.

He had bought my debt. He owned me. The words echoed in my mind, each repetition a fresh wave of humiliation. He hadn't just saved me; he had claimed me, publicly, like a prize won at an auction.

The car didn't head towards the Thorne Industries tower. Instead, it glided through the gleaming, affluent streets of Veridia's uptown district, finally pulling into the private underground garage of a sleek, modern skyscraper that pierced the clouds.

"Where are we?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Your new home," he said, his tone flat, as he got out of the car. A valet, who seemed to appear from nowhere, took his place behind the wheel.

My new home? I followed him numbly into a private elevator that whisked us upwards with dizzying speed. The doors opened directly into a penthouse apartment that was less a home and more a work of art. It was vast and minimalist, with polished concrete floors, stark white walls, and furniture that looked more like sculpture than something a person would actually sit on. An entire wall of glass revealed a panoramic, jaw-dropping view of the city. It was beautiful, sterile, and as cold as the man standing in the middle of it.

"This is one of my properties," he explained, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket and tossing it onto a severe-looking black leather sofa. "You'll live and work from here. My security team has already brought your belongings from your old apartment."

He gestured to a closed door. My few boxes of clothes and personal items would look pathetic in a place like this. A gilded cage. That's what this was.

The shock finally gave way to a surge of anger. "You had no right," I said, my voice shaking with repressed fury. "You had no right to announce that to the entire world. 'She works for me.' What am I, a piece of property you just acquired?"

He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "In the world we are about to enter, clarity is paramount. Ambiguity is weakness. Now, everyone involved-our enemies, my board, the press-knows exactly where you stand. You are under my protection. You are my asset. An attack on you is an attack on me. It was a strategic move."

"A strategic move?" I scoffed, the sound harsh in the silent room. "It was a power play! You wanted to show everyone that you were in control, that you owned the situation, and me along with it."

*Liar. It was more than that.* The way he had looked at me, the possessive fire in his eyes... it wasn't just strategy.

"Control is what I do," he replied coolly, walking towards the vast window. He stared out at the city lights below. "It's how I built my empire. It's how I will dismantle Mark and Leo Vance." He turned back to me. "You wanted to save your family. I have provided the means. The terms of that provision are mine to set."

I felt trapped, a fly caught in a billionaire's intricate web. I had escaped one monster only to run straight into the arms of another, more powerful one. The alternative-my parents losing their home-was unthinkable. But the price of their safety was my freedom.

"What happens now?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself, the borrowed silk dress suddenly feeling thin and cold.

"Now, we work," he said, his voice all business again. "My team has set up a secure network and workspace for you in the spare bedroom. Tomorrow morning at eight a.m., we begin dissecting every piece of data you have. We need to find the link. The person inside my company who was helping them."

He was already moving on, the dramatic, life-altering events of the evening filed away as a completed task. For him, this was just another business day. For me, it was the first day of my new, indentured life.

"There's a fully stocked kitchen," he said, gesturing vaguely towards another part of the cavernous space. "The bedroom is through there. Make yourself comfortable."

With that, he walked towards the elevator.

"Wait," I called out. "You're not staying here?"

He paused, his hand on the button, and looked at me. A strange, almost imperceptible emotion flickered in his eyes. "No. This is your space. I have my own. I will be here at eight sharp."

The elevator doors slid shut, leaving me alone in the vast, empty penthouse. The silence was deafening. I walked over to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The city glittered below, a million tiny lights representing a million lives, all of them free.

I had made a deal with the devil to fight a demon. And I was terrified that in the end, there would be nothing left of me to save.

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