Chapter 2
1011 Words
Her eyes, her crazy eyes, on the screen. She did not blink. Did not breathe. Her universe revolved around the words flowing along the bottom of the broadcast and the voice booming in her ears.
"What… what did they just say?"
Her lips moved for the second time, silently, as if trying to comprehend the chaos in front of her. No sound escaped her throat. Only the voice of the news anchor cut through the heavy air.
"In the meantime, insider sources confirm the purchase was finalized a few hours ago under emergency acquisition rules. The new controlling entity is the Nanode Private Co. But the new CEO remains a mystery.
BOOM.
The screen could have just as easily erupted in flames.".
Iris didn't remember leaping off the bed—only the feeling of the screen searing into her mind. Panic wrapped around her chest, constricting. Her breath turned rough.
"He's not here!" she screamed, already racing toward the hallway.
Groggy Dina trailed behind, au naturel feet thudding softly. "Wait—what are you saying?"
"My father—he's not in his room!"
Iris pushed open the door, the thud echoing in her ears. Her hand reached out to grab the light switch. On. Blank. The bed looked unrumpled, not a wrinkle to be seen. His phone was on the dresser, screen still glowing with a missed call.
"Law."
That single word on the screen made her blood turn cold.
"No," she whispered, voice cracking. "No, no, no."
She turned, tossing the coat from her chair.
“We’re going to the law firm.”
Dina blinked. “Like this?” She gestured at their smudged eyeliner, messy hair, and sleep-creased dresses.
“I don’t care.”
---
The night air slapped Iris in the face. Cold. Sharp. Sobering. The lingering alcohol in her system made the city lights shimmer, but fear burned hotter than any hangover.
By the time they reached Renford Law Associates' white marble stairs, Iris's heart was racing in her throat. She felt nothing but the fear. She didn't even notice her heels.
The receptionist gazed at them as they entered through the glass doors. Her gaze followed their disheveled clothes to Iris's tear-stained cheeks, the terror seeping out of her like a tide.
“We’re here to see Joseph Hargrove,” Iris said, her voice tight, barely steady.
The woman behind the desk frowned. “I’m sorry, visitation isn’t permitted without legal representation and—”
“Tell him his daughter is here!” Iris snapped, slamming her palms on the desk. “Now.”
There was a long pause. The receptionist wavered, then picked up the phone with trembling fingers.
Five minutes later, they were escorted by a guard into a glass-enclosed room that was too chilly, too sterile. Iris stood frozen as her gaze fell on the man behind the partition.
Her father.
Joseph Hargrove.
He sat with folded hands, slumped shoulders, his suit tailored too large for him now. The proud man she knew had crumbled—his dignity lost, his eyes vacant.
But they sparkled when he saw her.
"Iris…" His voice cracked. Her name weighed on a thousand what-ifs.
She placed one hand on the glass, the other trembling at her hip. "What's happening? The news, the allegations… is this real?"
Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she would not wipe them away. She needed to know. Now.
Joseph stared off, jaw set. His voice was husky, raspy. "They came to see me this morning. They told me there was evidence—an offshore account, unauthorized transactions. I swear to you, Iris, I never set up those accounts. It's a setup."
"A setup?." she breathed, running blindly. "Who would do this?"
"Somebody with influence. Somebody who wanted to ruin us. And they have.".
Iris shook her head, desperation and rage creeping into her voice. "Then we fight back. We tell the truth!"
Joseph's eyes met hers. There was pain there—raw, helpless pain.
"They do not want the truth. Not without leverage. Not without help."
"What kind of help?"
He hesitated.
Her stomach dropped. "Marx?" she whispered.
He nodded. Slow. Heavier than words.
"He's the only one who can set this right. In private. He swore to me… if you will wed him, he'll take care of this."
Iris drew back from the glass.
"Marry him?" Her voice shattered, disgust and rage knotted in her throat. "To buy your freedom?"
"To keep what we have left of our family," he panted. "I don't trust him either. But we don't have a choice now."
Her eyes ached. She turned away, gritting back a sob.
"So that's it? I'm to be his wife. I prostitute myself to a man I don't even care about, just so you don't spend the rest of your life in a prison cell for something you didn't do?"
He didn't speak. He didn't have to.
"Iris," his voice broke, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
---
Outside, the night was colder. Even the streetlights didn't seem as bright.
Under another of them, Iris did not stir, coat wrapped around her like a mantle. Dina remained there silently beside her.
"Are you going to do it?" Dina whispered.
Iris did not answer at once. Her lips parted, but no voice issued.
Then a tear fell down her cheek. Just one.
"I guess I have no choice."
Her voice was a hollow emptiness.
"What does that make me?" she whispered. "A sacrifice?"
Dina pulled her into a hug, warm and firm. “You’re saving your father. That’s more than most would do.”
Iris closed her eyes, fighting the sob rising in her chest. She didn’t let it out. She couldn’t. But something broke deep inside.
The kind of breaking that didn’t scream.
It wept in silence.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered to the night. “I’ll marry him.”
And just like that, the deal was made.
Not in a boardroom.
Not in ink.
But in a daughter's heart—
willing to burn so her father could breathe.
- Writer
