Chapter 1: The Contract in Darkness
1399 Words
The pitch black darkness of the VIP suite at the Grand Horizon Hotel didn’t just cover the room, it pressed down on Cynthia Thorne’s chest like a weight. The frantic and trapped bird motif echoed through Cynthia’s mind as she found herself transfixed at the void in the blackness. Her heart raced against her ribs. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the silk sheets. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her. No lights, no looking at his face, and no identification; that was the first rule of the contract.
“Are you ready?”
The silence was pierced by a smooth and deep voice, laced with a frosty, commanding, and smooth authority which made Cynthia shiver. It was coming from the door. Cynthia knew it was him; she had been briefed on the Lancasters and Dominic in particular on an agency crash course, and the Lancaster family had no idea who she was. To Dominic, she was a nameless, faceless, hired contractor defending the Lancaster heir from the predatory empire building, her treasonous family's legacy, and securing the Lancaster family line at the expense of the Lancaster's.
Swallowing the painful knot in her throat, she managed to rasp, "Yes," before running the risk of losing her voice completely.
The footsteps that approached the bed were deliberate, measured, and completely devoid of the aid of sight. Dominic didn't stumble. She felt the warmth of his large hands as they made contact with her face.
The blending of cedarwood, expensive rain, and raw masculine power contrasted Cynthia's clean hotel room. “You’re trembling.” His voice came closer. Cynthia instinctively tensed as Dominic brushed his fingers along her jaw. But the softness of his touch overwhelmed her, shocking her the most. His thumb traced her lower lip, sensing the pulse in her trembling neck. “Don’t be afraid.” His breath teased her cheek as he spoke. “This is a business transaction for my family, but it will not be a business transaction for you.” Cynthia fought back the sudden wave of tears and the overwhelming emotionally conflicted storm threatening to tug them free. The combination of self-hatred and desperation, as a result of her selling her body and womb, temporarily distorted the memory of her adoptive brother, Peter, who was in a lifeless state on a hospital bed. The mounting medical debt would crush them both to oblivion. This unknown, ruthless, money-fueled man was Peter's only hope. Cynthia was sacrificing everything for her brother. With the last bit of restraint that was meant to protect her, Cynthia barely noticed the intrusion of the blind, yet piercing, obsidian-gray eyes of Dominic. Then he kissed her.
He kissed her like a man about to drown, and she was the only thing that could save him.
The next few hours, the darkness was their private universe. With no sight, the rest of the senses were disturbed to an almost overwhelming degree. The other sounds of the world faded away. The persistent thumping of their hearts was dominant in the atmosphere. Cynthia wore the tormented warmth of a man that she could not know. She was lost. Gone was the contract, gone was the money, and the fading arms surrounding the impassive man's imagination, gave her the sense of being alive, finally.
Before the first light could dispel the darkness behind the curtains of the room, Cynthia got out of the bed. She was sore all over, and her heart was empty. She turned around to look at the man’s shadow, and knew that she would never see him again.
Six weeks later, the agency confirmed the pregnancy.
As the contract dictated, Cynthia was imprisoned in a remote and heavily guarded villa on the outskirts of the city for the duration of her pregnancy. For that entire nine months, she never saw Dominic Lancaster again. During that time, she was the ghost carrying his heir.
When the hard labor finally ended in the wing of the Lancaster clinic, a newborn baby's cry filled the room. She barely had time to hold the fragile baby, to look at the tuft of dark hair and the tiny perfect fingers, before a stern-faced nurse stepped forward.
"The Lancaster family thanks you for your service Miss Thorne " the nurse said coldly reaching for the child. "Your brother's debts have been cleared in full. You can leave now."
"Please " Cynthia said, her voice breaking with a mother's sadness. “Five more minutes. Let me just hold him for five minutes."
"An agreement is an agreement. You must leave now."
Tears streamed down her face as her firstborn son was taken away. She felt like her heart had been ripped out. The money was in her account. Peter was safe. But she had lost her baby.
The nurse left the room to finalize the discharge papers leaving her alone. She got out of bed, her body protesting. She needed to leave before she lost control.
But as she reached for her clothes, a sharp pain hit her abdomen so violent it dropped her to her knees. She gasped, clutching her stomach. It didn't make sense. The baby was already gone.
Cynthia got back onto the bed, a suspicion growing in her chest. She pressed her hands against her abdomen as another wave of pain hit her.
Ten minutes later a second softer cry echoed in the room. Cynthia gasped, shocked. There had been a mistake. The doctors had missed it. It was a twin.
Holding the baby boy tightly, Cynthia looked down through tears. He was identical to the brother who had been taken away.
Footsteps echoed outside. The nurse was coming back. Panic surged through Cynthia's veins. If the Lancasters found out about this child they would take him too.
"No, " Cynthia whispered, wrapping the baby tightly in her sweater. "They are not taking you from me."
With adrenaline pumping through her system, she slipped through the emergency exit just as the main door opened.
Six Years Later.
The international terminal of the Veridian Crest Metropolitan Airport was busy. Cynthia Thorne only had eyes for the little boy holding her hand. Toby Thorne was like his father. At five years old, he was brilliant and mischievous. He looked up at her with bright eyes.
"Are we staying in this city for a long time Mommy?" Toby asked, his voice full of curiosity.
"Yes, sweetie, " She replied, forcing a smile. She had dressed down in a gray suit and tied her hair into a tight bun. She needed to be invisible. "Mommy got a job here as a private tutor."
She hadn't wanted to return to Crest. For six years she had hidden abroad raising Toby on an income while sending money to Peter. Peter's rehabilitation required expensive neuro-therapy only available in this city. When a paying tutoring job opened up she had to take the risk.
The client was a wealthy family. The contract required discretion and living on the estate. The child she was tutoring was a mute who had rejected every other educator.
A black town car waited for them at the curb. The driver, a man in a suit, opened the door. Cynthia secured Toby in the backseat, her heart thudding as the car glided into traffic. The closer they got to the upper district the more an uneasy familiarity settled over her.
The car turned down an avenue passing through iron gates. Cynthia looked out the window. Her breath caught in her throat. The sprawling estate was unmistakable. It was the Lancaster Estate.
"Mommy? Your hand is cold " Toby said, wrapping his fingers around hers.
Before Cynthia could process the terror, the car stopped in front of the entrance and the heavy oak doors swung open.
A tall imposing figure stepped out. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, his shoulders casting a long shadow. It was his eyes that made Cynthia's world stop. They were no longer dull and sightless. They were obsidian-gray, piercing, and hyper-observant, scanning the vehicle with lethal intensity.
Dominic Lancaster could see.
As the driver opened her car door, Dominic's gaze locked onto the backseat, right onto the face of the little boy sitting beside her.
- Writer
