Bound By Vows

Chapter Three – Paper Chains

But the confidence she’d wrapped herself in cracked as soon as she returned to her Park Avenue office. It was thrashed.

Margaux’s attack had left her rattled, her cheek throbbing where the nails had carved skin. She told herself it was over. Dorian would get bored and Margaux would crawl back into whatever penthouse bar she’d staggered out of, and life would return to the way she knew it.

But life didn’t return.

Three nights later, as she walked home from eating out, it came for her again.

It was a rainy night, and everything was wet. Aria’s heels clicked as she turned down a side street close to her apartment/office. She was well fed, tired, and soaked. Aria hated the way her coat plastered to her skin.

The man came out of nowhere.

One second she was fishing for her keys, the next her back was slammed against wet brick. The impact stole her breath. A hand clamped over her mouth, another wrenched at her wrist.

“Thought you could ruin her and walk away?” She didn’t recognize the voice but she damn well knew who was behind it.

“Who are you?”

“Shut up!” He ordered as he pressed a small dagger knife to her side, and turned her around so she was facing him. Rain fell down his masked face. “Margret sent me here to leave a message for you.”

Since the mask was covering only half his face, she could see his sneering smile. “Listen, this is wrong. It was merely business. I didn’t think Margret would take it personally.”

He slammed her against the wall again with a force that made her unable to breathe. “You should’ve known not to play with certain people, your business is illegal after all.”

“I’ll call the police if you—” She started to say, but the man twisted the knife further into her waist, and was beginning to feel the tip of the knife on bare skin. Aria realized that if she didn’t tread carefully, there was a high chance of her dying.

So she did the only thing she could. Aria kneeled him straight in between his legs. The man let out a sharp wince and let her go for a minute, distracted by the pain. She reached quickly for her phone, her hands trembling. There was only one person she thought about, and Aria was thankful she’d saved his number.

“You !” The man rushed towards her, and she panicked.

A jagged piece of iron was staring back at her from, few paces away and she lunged for it, but the man was faster. He caught her by her leg and she fell, face front. Her chin connected roughly with the pavement.

Aria cried, tears streaking down her face at the unbearable pain. Her phone had slipped from her hand, skittering across the wet pavement. Then she felt a sharp pain shoot up her leg.

It was then that Aria realized that she’d been knifed in the leg. f**k.

The man came up beside her, smiling wickedly. “I don’t think you can do much running.” He grabbed her by her hair, pulling her to her feet.

Despite her pain, she saw an opportunity. She sank her teeth into his flesh. He cursed, his hold loosening just enough. She shoved him away, scrambling toward the phone.

Her fingers shook as she hit call.

“Aria?”

She choked on rain and pain. “Help me—”

The line went dead as the man wrenched the phone from her grasp and hurled it against the wall. The knife lifted again, and Aria’s vision blurred as she braced for the final strike.

She could no longer fight because she was losing a lot of blood from the injury on her leg.

“Say your last words..”

Headlights cut across the alley as a black car swerved to a halt, the door already swinging open.

Vincent climbed out, and before she could fully register what was happening, he was on the man, pulling him off her with amazing strength. The knife fell to the floor and he kicked it away. His fists collided severally with the man’s face until his mask slipped from his face.

The man managed to wrangle himself free and ran away, staggering.

Aria slumped against the nearest wall. She pressed trembling fingers to the wound on her leg and they came away red and sticky.

Vincent rushed to her. “You’re bleeding.”

“No s**t,” she whispered, half-hysterical.

He crouched, sliding an arm under her knees, another behind her back. She tried to resist, feebly pushing at his chest. “Put me down—”

“Not happening.” His hold only tightened. “You need a hospital.”

The fight drained from her. Her head fell against his shoulder, and for the first time in years, Aria felt small.

The car was deliciously warm and Aria realised that not only was she bleeding out, she was also shivering like a chicken. Vincent started the engine, while he pressed a handkerchief on her leg with his other hand.

“You should have said yes,” he muttered. “I warned you that she would strike back. Why do you insist on being stubborn?”

She gave a bitter laugh that ended in a wince. “You’re unbelievable. I’m bleeding out and you’re gloating.”

He didn’t smile. “I’m right. You think you can keep living like this, dodging enemies, dismantling lives, hiding behind false names. But eventually, they find you. Tonight, they almost killed you.”

Aria’s throat worked as she fought back hot tears. The man was right. She was no longer safe and the worst part of it all was that she had nowhere else to go.

Vincent pulled the contract from the seat beside him, sliding it onto her lap with brutal precision. The papers blurred through her tears and rain-soaked lashes.

“Marry me. It’s just one year and you get five million. No touching unless in public. You’ll have protection, stability, and I’ll handle the vultures if they come for you. All you have to do is sign.”

She stared at the words. Her pulse was roaring, her body was weak, and her pride was in tatters. The irony nearly made her laugh. Her lifelong work was creating exits for others and here she was unable to exit.

“Say yes, Aria,” Vincent urged, pressing the handkerchief harder against her wound. They were almost at the hospital now.

Her lips trembled. For years she had sworn never to be owned, never to be bound again. But the knife’s sting was still fresh, and so was the cut on her face from where Margret attacked her.

Alone, she would never survive this life.

She looked up at Vincent, his polo shirt ruined by rain.“I agree,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Aria was beginning to lose consciousness. She clutched the contract weakly, but Vincent’s voice was the last thing she heard before the blackness swallowed her.

“Hold on. You’re mine now, and I’m not letting you die.”