chapter 9
648 Words
Ryan didn’t speak to me at breakfast.
Ivan did. "You look tired."
I didn’t look at him. Kept my eyes on my coffee. Black. No sugar. Mother always said sugar makes girls weak.
"She doesn’t talk in the morning," Ryan said. He was already in a suit. Gun under his jacket. "Finish. We leave in ten."
Ivan leaned against the counter. "Victoria asked for you specifically. You sure you want to take her in there?"
"She’s my wife," Ryan cut in. "Where I go, she goes."
Ivan nodded once. "Understood." He pushed off the counter. "I’ll be here."
We left Ivan in the kitchen.
The car ride was silent. Ryan drove. I sat in passenger. Gun strapped to my thigh under the new dress. Black. High neck. Long sleeves. Hide the scars. Hide what Mother did.
"You know the rules?" Ryan asked. Not looking at me.
"No talking unless I’m spoken to. No sitting unless invited. No drinking anything she offers." I recited it flat. Mother’s rules. Always were.
His hands tightened on the wheel. "She’s your mother. Not your warden."
"Same thing."
He didn’t answer.
Victoria’s building was glass and steel. Cold. Like her. Her office took up the whole top floor. One wall was all windows. Long drop. I used to press my face to that glass when I was six.
She was waiting. Blonde. Perfect. My eyes. My mouth. She didn’t smile.
"Ryan. Andrea." She nodded once. "Sit."
We did. I took the chair farthest from her desk. Back to the wall. Old habit from when the belt came out.
"Drink?" She pushed a crystal decanter toward me. Amber liquid. Same one she drank after the funeral.
"No," I said. First word I’d spoken since breakfast.
Victoria didn’t react. "The Collar taught you well."
Ryan’s hand landed on my knee under the table. Not a warning. Grounding.
"I received the marriage notice," Victoria said. "Unexpected. You didn’t inform me."
"You would have sold me at the altar," I said.
Victoria looked at me. No anger. No hurt. Just assessment. "I secured your future. The Collar was the only way to keep you alive after Marcus."
Ryan went still. "Marcus."
"Her friend," Victoria said. Flat. "He was killed. She was fifteen. Unprotected. A liability." She opened a drawer. Pulled out a folder. Slid it across the desk to me. "Your records. From the Collar. I had them transferred to me when you turned eighteen. You’re of age. They belong to you now."
I didn’t move.
"Take them," Ryan said. Quiet.
I did. Photos. Me. Sixteen. First day at the Collar. Victoria holding my hand in the intake photo. Not smiling. Me not smiling. The last page was a contract. Sale to Volkov. Signed by Victoria.
"You’ve been watching me," I said.
"I monitored my investment," Victoria said. "I raised you. I trained you. I sold you. That makes me responsible for the outcome." She looked at Ryan. "Volkov marriages are not known for longevity. If she becomes a liability to you, I expect to be contacted first."
Ryan stood. "She’s not a liability."
"Everyone is a liability eventually." Victoria stood too. "Andrea, you know how this works. If he tires of you, you come home. We renegotiate. That’s the arrangement."
I stood. Slow. "I’m not going home."
"No," Victoria said. "Not yet." She walked to the windows. Back to us. "You’ll call when you need to. You always do."
Ryan stepped between us. "We’re leaving."
Victoria didn’t turn around. "The door is open."
We walked out. She didn’t say goodbye.
In the elevator, Ryan didn’t hit anything. He just stared at the doors. "Marcus was your friend."
"Yes."
"He was killed."
"Yes."
He didn’t ask how. Didn’t ask when. Didn’t say my name. Not Alexis. Not Andrea. Nothing.
The elevator doors opened. We walked to the car in silence.
Ivan was gone when we got back.
- Writer
