Fated To My Billionaire Saviour

Chapter 14: The Decoder

Ella

In a moment of haste, I saw a familiar face among the guests; it was Adrian, Adrian Blackwood. My heart leapt for joy; he looked so dazzling in his suit.

"No time." I quickly drifted from my thought and burst through the hidden door into my studio. I could feel my heart hammering like a jackhammer against my ribs. My hands shook as I grabbed my sketching materials, trying to look like I'd been peacefully working all evening instead of eavesdropping on a ‘human trafficking’ auction.

The footsteps in the hallway grew louder. I could hear multiple sets of feet, not just Victor's.

"s**t, s**t, s**t," I whispered, arranging papers across my work table. I picked up a pencil, but it fell off almost immediately. I picked it up again and started sketching random lines, trying to steady my breathing.

The studio door slammed open so hard it bounced off the wall.

"Well, well, well," Victor's voice brimmed with fake flattery. "Having a productive evening, are we?"

I looked up, attempting an innocent expression. "I’m just working on the textile reproduction like you asked."

Behind Victor stood two men I recognized from the auction; they were potential buyers who'd been discussing my "acquisition" like I was a vintage wine.

"How nice." Victor moved closer as his eyes scanned the papers on my table. "And what exactly have you been working on for the past... oh, two hours?"

Two hours? Had I really been gone that long?

"I've been experimenting with different patterns," I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded even amid my beating chest. "You know, trying to perfect the reproduction."

"Hmm." Victor picked up one of my sketches. It was a random geometric design I'd started when I heard them coming. His eyes narrowed as he studied it. "Interesting, this looks very... detailed."

"May I?" One of the men stepped forward. He was the British guy from the auction, the one who'd wanted first viewing rights on me.

Victor handed him the sketch. The man examined it intensively; he looked at it like someone searching for hidden meaning.

"This is remarkable," he murmured. "She has the same eye for embedding information as her mother."

My blood turned to ice. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Nothing, dear." Victor smiled; his smile looked like pure venom. "Mr. Blackthorne was just admiring your artistic instincts."

Blackthorne? Not Adrian Blackwood; this was someone else entirely.

"The genetic component is clearly strong," Blackthorne continued, still studying my random sketch. "Look at how she naturally creates these intersecting patterns, probably unconsciously."

"What genetic component?" I demanded, standing up from my stool. "What are you talking about?"

"Sit down," Victor's voice cracked like a whip.

"No. Is that why you called me a crazy b***h? Tell me!" The word came out stronger than I felt. "I want to know what you mean about my mother, about genetic components, about everything you've been hiding from me."

Victor and Blackthorne exchanged an annoying look that got me pissed even more.

"Very well," Victor said slowly. "Since you'll be leaving us soon anyway, I suppose there's no harm in explaining."

He moved to the window, gazing out at the gardens where his auction guests were probably chatting away.

"Your mother, Ella, had a very special talent. She could encode information into artistic patterns in ways that were virtually undetectable to anyone without the proper training."

"What kind of information?"

"Locations, account numbers, and names. Many things, my dear." Victor turned back to me with gleaming eyes. "Lucy was very good at documenting things that certain people kept secret."

"So? How does that concern me?”

“You see, Lucy had hidden certain information in her later works, information we needed to retrieve. And unfortunately, her encoding methods were... unique."

"So you need me to decode them for you?"

"Well…" he dragged a bit. "Initially, yes. But then we discovered something wonderful." Blackthorne stepped forward, still holding my sketch. "You inherited her abilities. You encode information naturally, probably without even realizing it."

I stared at the random pattern I'd drawn. It did look odd, but when I looked closely, it all made sense.

"That's impossible. I was just doodling."

"Were you?" Victor picked up another sketch from my table, one I'd made a week ago while thinking about the mansion's layout. "This one maps the exact location of every security camera on the first floor."

He was absolutely right. Without even thinking about it, I'd embedded a floor plan into what I thought was just an abstract design.

"And this one," he held up another, "documents the daily routine of every staff member you've observed."

My mouth fell open. I had been doing it unconsciously.

"Genetics is fascinating, isn’t it?" Blackthorne smiled like a shark. Robbing his palms against each other. "Your mother's talent, refined through you, could be extraordinarily valuable to the right collector."

"You're both insane," I whispered.

"Are we?" Victor moved to my supply cabinet and started pulling out fresh paper and pencils. "Let's test this theory, shall we? I want you to sketch something for me, Ella. Something simple."

"I'm not sketching anything for you."

"Oh, but you are." His voice suddenly turned deadly quiet. "Because if you don't, I'll have my security visit the basement and demonstrate some punching skills on your new friends."

The threat hit me like a physical blow. How did he know I went to the basement? "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

I looked between Victor and Blackthorne as I weighed my options. I could refuse and watch them torture Jon, Maya, and Sophia. Or I could comply and give them more weapons to use against me.

"What do you want me to sketch?" I finally said, accepting defeat.

"The layout of this estate. Every room, every passage, and every security measure you've observed." Victor placed fresh paper in front of me. "And I want you to be very, very detailed."

My hands trembled as I picked up the pencil. If I drew what he wanted, I'd be giving him a complete map of every possible escape route. But if I didn't...

"I can't remember all the rooms, plus I haven't gone around to notice how the estate is mapped." I said weakly.

"Do I look like I care? You'd better start remembering," Victor spat.

I started sketching. If I were naturally encoding information like my mother, maybe I could use that talent against them. Maybe I could hide something in this drawing that would help instead of hurt.

As I worked, I began embedding tiny details that looked like decorative elements, but they were actually escape routes and weak points in their security. If Adrian is here and is really trying to help me, maybe he'd understand what I was showing him when he sees this.

"Excellent." Victor watched over my shoulder as I drew. "I can already see beautiful details."

"Shit." He was reading my encoding too.

"The passage behind the library bookshelf, for instance," he pointed to a section of my drawing. "Very thorough of you to include that."

My heart sank. I wasn't helping myself at all; I was making things worse.

"And look here," Blackthorne pointed to another area. "She's documented the staff quarters' security vulnerabilities."

They were using my own abilities against me, just like they'd used my mother's talent to destroy her.

"I think that's enough for tonight." Victor took the sketch from my hands. "This will be very useful for our security upgrade."

"Victor," I said desperately, "whatever you want me to do, I can do it. You don't need to sell me to these people, please."

"Oh, my dear girl," Victor laughed. "We found what we were looking for months ago. Your mother documented a lot of things, but we recovered it all. Hahaha," he gave out an evil laugh.

"You what?”

"Ella, your talent is worth far more than any hidden bank account," Blackthorne answered. "Do you know how valuable an artist who can encode military intelligence, corporate secrets, or criminal evidence into innocent-looking artwork would be?"

The full scope of their plan hit me like a truck. They weren't just selling me as artistic labor. I am now their encryption device.

"The bidding for your acquisition begins tomorrow evening," Victor informed me cheerfully. "I expect it to be quite competitive."

"Tomorrow?" My voice cracked. "You said next week!"

"Plans change, dear.”

"What? No! No! Please…"