THE CRIMSON VEIL

The Job That Could Ruin Me...

CHAPTER 5

Elara's POV

I woke up the next morning with swollen eyes and a splitting headache.

For a few seconds, I thought it had all been a nightmare. The painting. The underground chamber. The magic.

Then I saw the locked door and remembered.

It was real. All of it.

Someone had brought breakfast while I slept. A tray sat on the table by the window. Fresh fruit, pastries, coffee. Food I couldn't even think about eating.

I spent the morning pacing the room like a caged animal. Thirteen steps from the door to the window. Thirteen steps back.

Thought kept circling around in my head

Three months until they killed me.

Around noon, I heard the lock click.

Lucien walked in, looking as composed as ever in another expensive suit.

I backed away instinctively, pressing against the far wall.

"I thought we could talk," he said.

"About what? About how you're going to murder me in three months?"

"About the ritual, yes. And about how we proceed from here."

"We don't proceed anywhere. You let me go and pretend this never happened."

Lucien closed the door behind him but didn't move closer.

"That's not possible."

"Why not? Just let me leave. I'll disappear. I'll go somewhere you'll never find me."

"There is nowhere you could go that we wouldn't find you, Elara."

The way he said it, so calm and certain, sent ice down my spine.

"The Crimson Veil isn't just thirteen people in robes," he continued.

"We have members in every major country. Presidents. CEOs. Judges. Military leaders. People who control governments and economies and armies. There's no corner of the world we don't have eyes in."

My legs felt weak. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

"So I'm just supposed to accept that I'm going to die? That there's no way out?"

"The ritual requires your participation. It's been prophesied for three hundred years. The celestial alignment happens in exactly three months. On that night, you'll be brought to the ritual chamber and your blood will be offered to complete the pact."

Three months to live.

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I had three months left. Twelve weeks. Ninety days.

And then I'd be dead.

The reality of it crashed over me and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I started crying, really crying, my whole body shaking with sobs.

"Please," I begged, looking up at him through tears.

"Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I'll disappear. I'll change my name. You'll never hear from me again."

Lucien's expression didn't change.

"That's not possible."

"I'm begging you. Please. I don't want to die. I'm only twenty-eight. I haven't done anything with my life yet. I haven't—"

My voice broke completely.

I pressed my hands to my face, trying to muffle the sobs. Trying to hold myself together and failing.

Lucien was quiet for a long moment.

Then I heard him move. Footsteps crossing the room.

He crouched down in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne.

"Look at me," he said.

I couldn't. Couldn't stop crying long enough to do anything.

"Elara. Look at me."

Something in his voice made me obey. I lowered my hands and looked at him through blurred vision.

His gray eyes held mine.

"I'm going to make you an offer," he said. "Listen carefully."

I tried to steady my breathing enough to hear him.

"You have two choices. You can fight this. Try to escape, refuse to cooperate, make every day of the next three months miserable. If you choose that path, I'll make sure you regret it. Everyone you've ever cared about will suffer. Your roommate. Your former clients. Anyone who ever meant anything to you. I'll destroy their lives one by one until you cooperate."

Horror flooded through me, cold and complete.

"Or," he continued,

"you can accept your situation and make the best of it. Stay willingly. Don't try to run. Cooperate with what needs to happen. And I'll make sure these last three months are as comfortable as possible."

"Comfortable," I repeated. The word tasted bitter.

"You're going to kill me and you want me to be comfortable about it?"

"I'll give you everything you could want. Luxury. Freedom within the estate grounds. Access to our library, to information about your bloodline and the ritual. You can spend these months learning about who you really are, where you came from, why you were chosen."

"I don't care about any of that. I just want to live."

"That's not an option I can offer you."

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of mercy, any hint of humanity.

There was nothing. Just cold determination.

"So those are my choices?" I said.

"Cooperate and die comfortably, or fight and watch everyone I love suffer before I die anyway?"

"Yes."

"That's not a choice."

"It's more choice than you think." He stood up.

"The previous Vessels fought. They tried to run. They spent their last months in chains, screaming and begging. You don't have to go through that."

The image made me feel sick.

"I need time," I whispered.

"To think."

"You have until tomorrow morning. Then I need your answer."

He walked toward the door.

"Wait," I said.

He stopped and looked back.

"If I cooperate... if I agree to stay and not fight... you swear you won't hurt anyone I care about?"

"You have my word."

"The word of a man who's planning to murder me."

Something flickered across his face.

"The Crimson Veil doesn't break its promises, Elara. If I give you my word, I'll keep it."

He opened the door.

Then I heard voices in the hallway. Urgent. Loud.

Footsteps running.

A man in a dark suit appeared in the doorway. Not one of the guards who'd carried me. Someone else. Older. More authoritative.

"Sir," he said, slightly out of breath.

"You need to see this."

Lucien's expression hardened.

"I'm in the middle of something."

"It can't wait. We have a situation."

"What kind of situation?"

The man glanced at me, then back at Lucien. "The kind that requires your immediate attention, High Patron."

The title hung in the air, heavy and ominous.

Lucien's jaw tightened. Whatever this was, it was serious enough to pull him away.