The Syndicate’s Bride

19

Owen

It was too late when I found out Mr. Logan’s original plan.

I happened to stumble on it by luck when I was walking past his office. He was on the phone reviewing details of the assassination with who I suspected to be one of the assassins. Towards the end of the call, his voice went low with warning as he said,

“Do not forget to kill Vanessa.”

My legs froze in its spot, my heart pounding in shock and fists clenched in anger.

I should have known better.

I knew the kind of man Mr. Logan was having grown under his roof for thirteen long years, and his inhumanity was no secret, even to his own daughter. Yet when he assured me no harm would come to Vanessa in the fulfilment of his plans, like a fool I believed him. And in doing so, I set up the assassination attempt to kill the person I was supposed to protect.

I was such a fool.

Collecting myself, I took off to the underground racetrack immediately, arriving in ten minutes what would normally take me twenty. I got down the car and immediately raced inside, rushing past fans and other regular people.

By the time I saw her, I was already too late. Two of the assassins had cornered her at the end of a hallway, one holding her mouth shut with their hand and the other pointing a gun to her head.

I cursed under my breath, already moving forward as I freed my gun from it’s sheath. But just then, a wolf breezed past me, coming out of a room I assumed to be a garage of some sort, and headed straight for the scene.

I stared in shock remembering the familiar large black wolf from just the other day. The wolf, on the other hand, didn’t care to acknowledge me as it jumped in the air, heading straight for the assassin with the gun, and biting deep into his neck.

The man groaned in pain, raising the gun in the air to shoot at the animal, but before he could put the trigger, his throat was ripped out his body and spat beside his lifeless form on the ground.

The animal didn’t wait for time of recovery as it went for the other assassin, startling him well enough to make him loose his balance and hold on Vanessa. The wolf immediately latched on to the man’s throat, ripping it out just like it did his colleague’s.

Vanessa, speechless from fear, wordlessly stood against the wall, her hand trembling over her mouth. The wolf, as if understanding her fright, approached her cautiously, only stopping to lightly nudge her hand in comfort.

A little less afraid now, Vanessa reached for the wolf cautiously, rubbing the fur of its head in gratitude. The animal relaxed, whimpering in comfort before it finally retreated and ran off.

“Vanessa!” I called out, running to her immediately after the wolf’s departure. She looked at my direction, her expression still cold in shock, and her eyes seeming a bit unsteady. Getting to her, her eyes suddenly rolled back and her legs gave out. But I caught her just before she could collided with the ground and hoisted her away and to the hospital.

Arriving at the hospital, a doctor examined her while I stayed just outside her room, pacing the halls full of anger and regret as I waited for the doctor’s analysis.

When the doctor finally emerged from the examination room, she informed me that Vanessa’s condition was caused by extreme emotional shock and fear but with proper rest and isolation, she’d be better by the following day.

Extending my gratitude to the nurse I nodded and asked her to call me if need be. After making the necessary arrangements to ensure Vanessa’s comfortable stay in the hospital, I left the building, hoping to give her the needed space.

My mind continued to replay the assassination attempt as I wheeled out of the parking lot. Once again, Mr. Logan has used me as his loyal dog to get what he wanted. He constantly kept me chained to his side, only letting me go when he had another dirty trick up his sleeves and needed me to execute it. His favourite little pawn.

I despised it.

By turning me against Vanessa, he had compromised my loyalty and everything I stood for as her personal guard. If he was able to weaponize my intentions and actions for his own gain against my charge, was I really worthy enough to be her Knight? Especially when my obedience to her father could actually get her killed someday?

“f**k,” I muttered.

In my troubled thoughts, I found myself in front of a bar only a few minutes away from the hospital. Instead of driving away since it was still late in the afternoon, a time too early for alcohol in my opinion, I exited my car and headed inside.

I found a seat at the bar, ordering a strong drink when the bartender requested my order. As the drink came, I downed the contents in one gulp, earning a concerned look from the bartender, a look that only deepened when I ordered for three more of the strong drink.

“Can you make that five negroni and a bottle of water?” a woman suddenly said beside me, stealing my tired gaze from my empty cup to her.

She was simply breath-taking. Her hair swept around her face before dropping to her back in a wolf cut, her slender nose and full lips accentuated her high cheek bones and oval face. Her sharp green eyes bore into mine, her face passive yet her eyes swimming with curiosity. Unfortunately for her, I was in no mood for company.

“I’m in no mood for company,” I said gruffly as I turned away from her.

I heard her sigh, almost dramatically, as she replied, “and to think the way you inhaled that first drink was a cry for help” she said and I snapped my head to her.

She looked ahead as the bartender placed our drinks before us. “I was bored,” she picked her drink and took a sip from it, “and was hoping you’ll entertain me with your sorrows.”

I blinked at her. “I should entertain you with my sorrows?” I asked dryly.

She raised her drink in the air, “one sorrow for another,” then clicked our glasses together. “Believe me, it works like therapy.”

“What makes you think I’m sorrowful?” I asked, a bit annoyed at her ability to pick up on my mood.

She chuckled a bit. “Even the blind can tell.”

Maybe it was because I was too mentally exhausted to deny the truth of her words or her request, but I went quiet, silently agreeing to her offer. We drank more after that, switching our cocktail for tequila shots until we were both tipsy, me more than her.

“You’re a heavy drinker.” I pointed out and she shrugged.

“I just easily tolerate the liquid,” she sighed. “I guess I was just born that way.”

“What way?”

“Being able to tolerate anything and come out strong.”

Something told me we weren’t speaking about the alcohol any more.

Knowing to thread carefully, I asked softly, “What do you mean?”

She sighed and took her last shot, her composure a bit down compared to her previous high. “Do you have a family?” before I could answer, she continued. “You seem like you do, like you have parents who loved and took good care of you,” she smiled though it didn’t reach her eyes. “that makes me jealous.”

I almost chuckled at how wrong she was, but I let her continue, sensing she was about to go on a much needed rant.

“My father is a strict man, also very controlling and never affectionate. Mother wasn’t any better,” she paused then chuckled bitterly. “It’s quite the duo. A strict father and a harsh mother. I’ve never lived in a home, only in a house made of paint and cement.”

She drummed her fingers against the counter as she continued. “My whole life I’ve been so tolerable and compliant to their every demand whether it benefited me or not, most tines, it didn’t anyway,” she added. “All my life, I thought that was how things were supposed to be, unconditional respect to your parents’ every demand no matter what it entailed but God,” she breathed out, “I’m so unhappy and the feeling keeps growing everyday. It’s like I’ve never been able to live for myself and that makes me sad and very angry.” She sniffed, holding back tears. “And I’m so f*****g tired.”

I watched her as she ended her rant, wondering just how long she had kept those problems to herself. With her air of confidence and unmasked aura she didn’t strike me as a vulnerable person or someone who willing lets out her emotions, so I suspected the alcohol was the major source of her confidence to get years of unhappiness off her shoulders.

It made the next words roll easily out of my mouth.

“My parents died when I was little and I was raised by a man who took me in for his own interest,” she looked at me, eyes softening a bit when she realised she had wrongfully judged my upbringing. “I was tKavand by him in ruthless ways and was forced to live in obedience to him in all my thirteen years I’ve lived with him, doing whatever he so willed me to do whether it was good or bad, he didn’t care.” The screams of the people I had to eliminate on Mr. Logan’s orders echoed in my mind and I closed my eyes in an attempt to ward them off. When the silence finally returned shortly after, I continued.

“But now, continuing in that unconditional obedience will only harm the person I’ve tKavand my whole life to protect,” my jaw clenched. “I just can’t do it.”

“Then rebel,” the woman said. “run away from it all.”

I chuckled. She had no idea the kind of man Mr. Logan was. “He’s not just someone you can escape from. It takes more than that. But I want to escape, I want to betray him, I want nothingto do with him anymore,” I sighed, “but I have no idea where I’m to begin.

We both went silent, only the soft sound of the music in the building could be heard. If I could easily escape Mr. Logan, I would have done so years ago, taking Vanessa with me and moving far away to a place we’d never be recognised, but it wasn’t that easy. To betray Mr. Logan was to live with a permanent target on my back for the rest of my life until he eventually killed me. I had to work smarter than that.

“Oh,” she suddenly said, her words a bit slower from the alcohol effect. “my driver’s here. What a bummer.”

I looked around the bar, looking for the driver in person but everyone seemed preoccupied, doing their own thing. I turned to her confused, ready to ask her about her driver but she spoke first.

“We have an agreed time,” she explained, rising to her feet. I stood up after her concerned at her tipsy state. And just like I feared, she slightly lost her balance and fell back a bit but I was there immediately, holding her up and pulling her a bit closer to me.

Her eyes roamed around my face fluttering slightly as she stared at my lips before finally looking me in the eye, a small smile playing on her lips. My heart skipped a bit at the gesture but I quickly blamed it on the alcohol and pushed the feeling down.

“Thank you for today...” She trailed and for the first time since we met, I realized we didn’t exchanged names.

“Owen.”

She nodded as if the sound of my name pleased her. “Thank you for today, Owen.”

My name rolled softly of her tongue and unintentionally, a smile broke free from my lips.

“It’s my pleasure–”

“Tia,” she smiled, “my name is Tia.”

I nodded. “Goodnight, Tia.” After one more longing stare, she finally left, walking to a man in a uniform who stood waiting for her at the entrance of the bar, and out the exit.

Why does it feel like I’ve started something I won’t be able to finish?

“*” “*” “*”

The next day, I was pleased to see Vanessa conscious and doing ten times better when I went to visit her at the hospital.

She regarded me excitedly, pointing at the flowers bouquet in my hands as I handed her them to her before taking a seat beside her.

“Someone would think you’re visiting a critically ill person with how large these flowers are,” she chuckled.

“Well, I’m visiting my favourite person so this much is to be expected.” She chuckled even more, causing me to smile.

Unfortunately, I knew that smile was going to disappear in the next second once I brought up Ryan’s true identity. I didn’t know how much she knew about him so I had to thread carefully. I could have easily waited the conversation out, preferably till we left the hospital, but I couldn’t bring myself to wait anymore. If she was in danger, she had to know. Plus, only God knew if I’d be standing face to face with death again and actually not survive this time.

Clearing my throat to get her attention, I began. “We need to talk about some important things.”

Her bright countenance slowly melted into a serious look. “About what?”

“Ryan,” she tensed a little and I wasn’t sure why but I continued. “and I want you to be honest with me.”

Her eyes danced between mine in curiosity until she finally sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

I went straight for it. “Have you ever noticed anything particularly strange about him? Like something you wouldn’t normally associate with being human.”

At my question, her eyes widened. “You already picked up on it?”

I raised my brows in surprise. She already knew? “Yes. As a matter of fact, I know what he is and I don’t think it’s safe for you to live with him anymore.”

She sat up further on the bed, leaning her back against the bed rest, her eyes swimming with a thousand possibilities at what my discovery about Ryan’s true nature could possibly be. But when her eyes narrowed in confusion at my next words, I knew she had never once thought out that possibility.

“He’s a werewolf, Princess.”