Claimed Twice

Chapter two

Chapter Two: What I Never Told Priya

That night, I sat on my couch and did not turn on the TV. I just sat there, thinking.

Five years ago, I was twenty-two. My sister Beatrice was getting married. It was a big fancy party in New York, the kind with real candles and a live band. I did not want to go. Big parties make my body tired and my head loud. But she was my sister, so I went.

I remember the dress I wore. Pale blue, soft fabric, the kind that does not squeeze my ribs when I breathe.

I remember the exact moment I saw him.

Beta Alexander Voss walked in wearing a black suit, and the whole room seemed to bend toward him, like plants bending toward the sun. He looked at me from across the room, and something inside my chest clicked into place, like a key turning in a lock I did not know I had.

He walked straight to me. He did not even say hello first. He just said, "There you are."

Like he had been looking for me his whole life.

For one hour, I was the happiest I had ever been. He held my hand like it was something precious. He smiled at me like I was the answer to a question he had been asking forever.

Then his father arrived.

I do not remember every word his father said. I remember the important ones. Weak. Sick. Not enough for this family.

I remember Alexander's face changing, like a light switching off behind his eyes.

I remember him letting go of my hand in front of everyone and saying, "I reject this bond."

Three words. That is all it took to break me.

I do not remember much after that. I remember pain, real physical pain, like something inside me had been ripped out. I remember Beatrice's wedding photos having a girl in a pale blue dress crying in the corner of half of them.

I moved to Los Angeles four months later. I never went back to New York. I barely speak to Beatrice anymore either, though that is a different sad story.

My phone buzzed. A calendar reminder.

Voss Group Partnership Meeting — Monday, 10 AM, Conference Room B.

I stared at it for a long time.

It is probably not him, I told myself. Voss is a big company. There are many people with that last name working there.

But some part of me, deep

down, already knew.