The Syndicate’s Bride

29

Owen

“I have located them sir,” one of the guards said, approaching Mr. Logan with a device displaying Ryan and Vanessa’s location.

I tensed, silently cursing in my head as Mr. Logan snarled, glaring angrily at the screen.

“This can only be that bastard’s doing!” he yelled, angrily sweeping his desk clean with one furious motion before slamming both hands on it. “Vanessa is smart, but not particularly bright when it comes to security and hacking. The Winchester bastard on the other hand is a completely different case.”

He shot to his feet, taking a cigarette from its pack, lit it and turned to face the city view behind his glass walls.

“All these years I’ve kept her right where I wanted, bending her to my will and controlling her every movement. Yet, all it took was a mere forty eight hours to let her slip from my control,” he growled, “All thanks to that Winchester bastard.”

He turned sharply, snapping his gaze to the guards. Everyone shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his piercing gaze, everyone but me who stood frozen looking ahead, confident and determined to not give away even the slightest indication of my knowledge of Ryan and Vanessa’s whereabouts. I stood my ground, as he slowly walked to me, stopping just a breath away.

“You’ve been with her ever since you returned, Owen,” he spat coldly. “Tell me, did you notice anything strange about her behaviour?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, sir.” I smoothly replied.

He hummed, puffing smoke. “And how is she with that Winchester boy?”

“The same as they have always been,” I said. “They’re honouring the alliance.”

Slowly, he started to circle round me like an animal sizing up his prey. “Owen, can I still trust you?”

I resisted the urge to swallow. “With my life, sir.”

“Even after I almost killed your precious charge?” He mocked. I bit my tongue. He was baiting me.

“Yes, sir.”

He puffed out smoke at the side of my face, humming as he stopped his circling motion. Raising the cigarette in his hand, he pressed the end into the back of my palm, twisting it deeply into my flesh like it was a newly purchased ash tray. I didn’t flinch even as my skin sizzled.

“Your life is worthless to me boy, don’t forget that.” He sneered.

Then talking over his shoulder as he returned to his seat, he commanded. “Kill them and bring their heads to me as proof.”

As soon as the meeting ended, I led the other guards out and gave them orders to pursue Ryan and Vanessa’s location, pretending to be an ally. But as soon as the hallway cleared and their footsteps faded, I sent a warning to Ryan.

They’re coming for you. I’ll stay close to Logan for now, gathering Intel. Keep moving.

As soon as the message was delivered, I left the Logan estate.

After my argument with Vanessa earlier, just as Ryan left after her, I got a call from the Logan estate ordering me to return to the mansion – on Mr. Logan’s orders.

The moment I arrived, I could feel the tension in the air. Everyone seemed to be on edge – from the staff looking around with frightened eyes and the guard looking ahead with a far away look. I immediately knew Mr. Logan was in a bad mood.

After asking around, I discovered he had finally noticed the bridge in his security access to Vanessa and had gone on a rampage, killing two of the workers under that security branch, in his fury.

After leaving the estate, I didn’t have a particular destination in mind but, somehow, I found myself in front of a familiar building where the booze kept calling to me. As it was only a few minutes to noon, I decided to have something light this time to kill some time before returning to the Logan estate.

At least the booze would see me through the facades.

I walked into the neatly empty building, welcoming the smell of citrus and whiskey as I took an empty seat at the bar and ordered a drink.

In the soft calm of the bar, I let my thoughts run loose.

Ever since I decided to betray Mr. Logan, I’d been so certain about my success that I never really took the time to ponder the consequences of my failure. One thing I knew for sure was he’d definitely have me killed. But then what?

What would happen to everyone else caught in the cross fire?

What would happen to Vanessa if I failed to keep her safe from her father? Would he finally kill her or cage her like a wild animal again? Would he punish her until she could take it anymore and take her own life? What would happen to her if I failed her?

The thought burned more than the whiskey sliding down my throat.

“I don’t believe in second chances but you always know how to defy my beliefs, Owen.”

At the sound of the familiar voice, my head snapped up, eyes meeting with familiar piercing ones.

“Tia?”

She smirked, taking the seat beside me, just like the night we met. “Glad you remembered my name. I’d think you’d have a hard time remembering with all the women at your disposal.”

I chuckled. “I don’t w***e around.”

“Too bad,” she said, lips curving. “You certainly have the looks for it.”

I glanced at her amused, but she only shrugged in reply and ordered a drink,

“You’re not going hard today,” she asked, eyeing my drink.“What? No sorrows to share?”

A smile painted my lips. “Oh, I have sorrows alright. My friend just warns me about early morning drinking.”

“Well she’s either a prude or she has no friends,” she said, taking a sip of her drink.

I sighed. “Well, she’s none of – wait, how do you know she’s a she?”

“You said you don’t w***e around,” she explained. “and a man would only listen to the advice of two people, his partner, or a girl who is his friend,” she raised a brow. “Or closer than his friend.”

I tensed. Am I that f*****g easy to read? Hiding my discomfort, I smoothly chuckled, sipping on my drink. “You know a lot.”

“Yet,” she said, eyeing her glass’ contents. “I can’t seem to understand everyone’s deal with Vanessa Logan.”

I almost choked on my drink. “What did you just say?”

She smiled knowingly. “I was at the banquet, Owen. I saw your little spat with Winchester. That’s how I knew.”

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t see you.”

“I left early,” she shrugged. “You’d be surprised, but gatherings of the rich aren’t really my thing.” She turned away for a second, ordering a second drink before turning back to me. “So tell me, the man you wanted to betray is Mr. Logan, wasn’t it.”

My guard immediately went up. Talking to her the other day had been easy. She was a stranger, someone who didn’t even know my name until the end of our conversation. Now, she was neither a friend nor a foe.

She was a risk.

“I’m not who you think, Owen,” Tia started, noticing my hesitation. “I don’t go around spreading people’s business,” she paused. “That night we met, yes, I was drunk, but I knew exactly what I was doing when I told you things about myself that I would never tell another.”

My resolve melted a bit at her honesty. “Besides,” she added, “you’ve already told me so much about it. Why stop now?”

I quietly sipped on my drink, debating whether to tell her about my plans against Logan. But after seeing I had nothing to lose, I told her what she needed to know, only withholding my alliance with Ryan.

By the time I had finished, she stared at me in awe. “I can’t believe you actually did it.

“A part of me can’t either,” I quietly admitted. “Now, I have so much to gain if I succeed and so much to lose if I don’t.”

“That’s true bravery,” she said seriously. “If I can do an ounce of what you’ve done, I’d give myself a pat on the back.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I turned to her, taking her hand. She gasped at the contact, eyes flicking between mine and our joined hands. “I know how you feel, Tia. We share similar lives. The control never stops, it only gets worse. You have to take your freedom forcefully before the control swallows you whole. Take it by force.”

She blinked at me, eyes searching mine for a few seconds before, then pulled away and chuckled nervously as she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m not half as brave as you are, Owen,” she admitted. “I don’t think I can get away with something like this.”

“You wouldn’t know until you tried.”

“I associate that phrase with crazy people, you know,” she smirked faintly. “Why do something when your life is on the line? I can’t understand it.”

“You need to be a good amount of crazy to fight people like this,” I told her. “You can only fight crazy with crazy, Tia. The crazier one always wins.”

I downed the remaining contents of my glass and stood, subtly glancing at her as she stared at her drink, absentmindedly swirling the liquid in the glass.

“Besides,” I added, placing a few bills on the counter. “Baby steps come before a baby runs. Take your first steps now, Tia. Run later.”

She didn’t know it then but I was seriously rooting for her.

Tia

“Take it by force.”

Those were the only words echoing in my mind as I arrived home.

Everything I had ever done in my twenty five years on this earth was to please my family. I was a robot with no off switch. When I was told to jump, I leapt as high as I could, because I knew that was always required of me. When I was told to make guests love me, I put on a smile that never waivered, even if my legs went sore from mingling or my mouth went dry from endless polite chatter.

But for the first time, I could feel a rebellious side stirring within me, a presence I had never met before. It was edging me on, crying, begging to be released, pleading to take control, to fight and win our life back for a new start.

It offered me a hand, and oh, I was so close to taking it.

Without a knock, my door swung open, slamming against my pink and green walls with a violent force. Unsurprised by the rude intrusion, I remained in my bed, faced away from the swirling storm who rounded my bed till she was in my view, much to my annoyance.

I inwardly rolled my eyes as she folded her arm, waiting for me to acknowledge her presence.

Sitting up against my bed rest, I gave a simple greeting. “Mother.”

“Get up, lazy child. Your father has guests.”

I sighed, holding on politeness. “I don’t feel well. Please tell father–”

She held my cheeks together, pressing them until pain shot through my jaw.

“Have you gone mad?” She hissed. “Are you refusing an order given through me by your father?”

I moaned in pain, grabbing a hold of her hand to ease her grip, but she only made it tighter. It was only after I had begun wheezing in pain that she threw me back, making me gasp greedily for air.

“And is that alcohol I smell on your breath?” She asked with disgust. “Take care of it. You have ten minutes.” With that, she walked out of the room.

I held my burning cheeks, standing from my bed to the mirror to access the damage done to my skin. On my cheeks were finger prints in an ugly red colour imprinted on my skin.

My lips trembled in anger as I heaved an exhale. There were times I laid in my room, raging and sobbing about their harsh treatments, but all my previous rage combined was nothing compared to the rage I felt at that moment. It was hot and alive, ready to seize, command and take by force.

Take it by force.

And that was exactly what I was going to do.

“*”

By evening, I left the house unnoticed.

Earlier that day, as I performed for my father’s guests, feeding them the mistaken belief of our happy home and even happier daughter, I thought of the first possible way to execute my plan. In the end, I settled for the old fashion way.

A rebellion

The right people weren’t hard to find. I’d overhear them in the hallway, sometimes in my sleep, other times just by looking into their sad, dissatisfied eyes. Gang members who were exhausted with the violence. Recruits longing to escape and reunite with their families.

But father didn’t let go of people without consequences – a fact everyone living under his roof was well accustomed to. We had seen people lose their lives trying to escape him, some who left on their feet and returned on their knees only to be made rouge wolves – wolves without a pack.

So a rebellion was a simple but dangerous plan.

Yet it seemed the exhaustion outweighed the fear of danger. By the time I arrived at our discreet location, everyone was there already, waiting on me.

Noticing my arrival, those who sat quickly stood to their feet, bowing in sync with the others who had remained on their feet. With a curt nod in response, I walked past them, sitting on a stool in front of the crowd.

“I’m surprised you all showed up.” I started, scanning their faces. “It's not everyday you set out to rebel against your alpha, but it also shows seriousness to the situation.” I nodded. “You’ve been brave.”

Murmurs of agreement followed. I cleared my throat, willing the crowd to be silent before continuing “I know all of you are aware what is at stake here. Your heads, your hearts, your lives,” I made eye contact with each one of them as I spoke. “I am just like everyone else, here to risk all I’ve got because I can no longer be silent. And I know you can’t either.”

I stood to my feet. “That is what a rebellion is about, a fight for freedom. It’s madness to go against your Alpha, that much I know, but someone once told me you have to fight crazy with crazy. To take back you freedom, you need to take it by force!”

A chorused shout of agreement erupted at my words and I looked around in satisfaction, nodding at the effect of my words. “Come tomorrow, we begin our rebellion. Let’s take back what’s rightfully ours. Freedom!”

“Freedom!” they chorused back, fists in the air in solidarity.

This was it. I was risking it all, my power, my place, my life, all for my freedom. Yet, in that moment, I had never felt more like myself.

I trembled in anticipation as I returned home that night. There were two ways this action could go, either smoothly – with a bit of blood shed which was inevitable, or badly – with a blood bath – and me with the others who believed in me would be eliminated before we could blink.

I shook my head. I couldn’t die, not yet. Not when I finally got the courage to stand for myself and defy everything I thought wrong. Not when freedom was so close I could taste it.

However, how naive I was to think there were only two possible outcomes. Unknown to me, a third way had already taken place before I returned to the estate.

As I opened the door to my room, outcome number three stood at the canter of my space, hands clapping in mockery as he welcomed me.

I froze. My dreams of freedom shattered before they could even see the light.

“Welcome, daughter,” he said, taking a seat on my desk and crossing his legs. “To be honest, I didn’t think you had it in you,” he chuckled bitterly. “You were always so proper, so accepting, I couldn’t see you as anything else.”

I gulped. The flames of his rage made the large room suddenly devoid of ventilation. I took a step back.

“Father – ”

He shot to his feet, making me take another step back, but he was faster. His hand caught my jaw, applying pressure to the same place mother had bruised earlier.

“Exactly, father,” he seethed. “And also your alpha. You dare plan a rebellion against your alpha?” He squeezed harder.

Tears pooled in my eyes from the pain, my teeth scratching against my gum and my air duck constraining. Finally letting go, he threw me to the ground, making me gasp for air.

“Clearly you are lacking in discipline and manners, child. I will teach you both,” he spat, then called for two maids, and giving them instructions he said, “You will lock her up. The only time she’d be attended to is when her daily needs must be met. And she will not, under any circumstances, leave this house. Do I make myself clear?”

As the two maids bowed in response, he cast me a final look of disgust before walking away. The maids, looking somewhat apologetic, closed the door after him, leaving me in my company.

I curled my body to myself, burying my face in my knees as I tried to ease my breathing.

Owen was right.

Only crazy could beat crazy.

And the crazier always wins.

I lifted my head, boring my eyes to the walls of my room.

I guess I have to become crazier.