Bound by the CEO’s Secret

The Puppet Show

The morning light in Blackwood Manor was as cold and clinical as a surgeon’s blade. I hadn't slept. The weight of the diamond on my finger—and the chilling inscription inside it—had kept me tethered to the balcony, watching the mist roll over the private lake. “Property of the Raven.” The words played on a loop in my mind, a dark melody that threatened to drown out my sanity.

A sharp knock at the door startled me. Mrs. Halloway entered before I could grant permission, followed by three women pushing racks of clothes and carrying vanity cases.

"Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood," Halloway said, her tone professional but lacking any warmth. "Mr. Blackwood expects you in the grand foyer in one hour. The press conference begins at ten. You must be perfect."

"I am not a doll, Halloway," I snapped, though my voice felt thin.

"Today, you are whatever the public needs to see," she replied, gesturing to the stylists. "Begin."

For the next sixty minutes, I was poked, propped, and painted. They dressed me in a cream-colored silk suit that screamed old money and quiet elegance. My hair was styled in soft, loose waves, and my makeup was applied to hide the dark circles under my eyes. When they finished, I looked exactly like a woman who had spent the night in the arms of a man she loved, rather than a prisoner who had spent it staring at a black feather.

When I stepped into the foyer, Rosw was waiting. He was dressed in a navy suit so dark it was almost black, his white shirt crisp against his tanned skin. He looked up from his watch, and for a split second, his eyes widened as they took me in.

"You’ll do," he said, his voice a low vibration. He stepped toward me, reaching out to straighten the collar of my silk blazer. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin of my neck, and I had to fight the urge to flinch. "Remember, Lucian. The cameras will see everything. If you hesitate, if you look at me with anything but adoration, the deal is off."

"I’m a good actress, Rosw. I’ve spent years pretending I didn't hate my father’s business associates," I whispered harshly. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

"I don't expect enjoyment. I expect results." He offered his arm. "Smile, Lucian. The world is watching."

We exited the manor and were whisked away in a fleet of black SUVs. The venue for the press conference was the lobby of the former Vance Financial—now Blackwood North. As we approached, I could see the sea of reporters and the blinding flashes of cameras.

As the door opened, Rosw’s demeanor changed instantly. He didn't just hold my hand; he interlaced our fingers, pulling me close to his side. He wore a smile that was charming, yet held a hint of possessive triumph. I took a deep breath, plastered a radiant, fake smile on my face, and stepped into the chaos.

The noise was deafening.

"Mr. Blackwood! Is it true? An elopement?"

"Miss Vance—how does it feel to marry the man who bought your father’s company?"

"Was this a business merger or a romantic one?"

Rosw led me to the podium, his hand never leaving the small of my back. He leaned into the microphone, his voice calm and commanding.

"Thank you all for coming," Rosw began, his voice projecting a warmth that I knew was a lie. "I know our union comes as a surprise to many. But sometimes, in the midst of intense business negotiations, one finds something far more valuable than equity. I found Lucian. And I decided that I couldn't wait another day to make her my wife."

He turned to me, looking into my eyes with such convincing tenderness that for a terrifying moment, I almost believed him. I leaned in, resting my head against his shoulder just as the flashes intensified.

"It’s true," I said into the microphone, my voice steady despite the bile rising in my throat. "The rivalry between our families was long, but love has a way of silencing old ghosts. I’m proud to be a Blackwood."

The reporters went into a frenzy. It was a masterpiece of manipulation. But as Rosw began answering questions about the company’s future, I felt a strange sensation. Someone was watching me. Not a camera, not a reporter—someone else.

I scanned the back of the room. Standing near the exit was a man in a nondescript gray suit. He wasn't holding a notepad or a camera. He was simply staring at me. And in his lapel, he wore a small, silver pin in the shape of a feather.

My heart stopped.

"Lucian?" Rosw’s voice was sharp but low, pulling me back to the moment. "A reporter asked you about your father’s health."

"Oh," I stammered, regaining my composure. "He... he is recovering. He’s happy for us, of course. He knows he’s leaving the company in the best possible hands."

The conference ended twenty minutes later. As we were escorted back to the SUV, the man in the gray suit was gone.

Once the door closed and the glass was tinted, the warmth vanished from Rosw’s face. He let go of my hand as if it were toxic.

"Well done," he said, checking his phone. "The stock price is already rebounding. The public loves a fairy tale."

"Who is the man with the silver feather?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Rosw’s fingers froze over his screen. He turned to me, his stormy eyes turning into ice. "What did you say?"

"A man at the back of the room. He was wearing a silver feather pin. He was watching us. Watching me."

Rosw didn't answer immediately. He leaned forward and tapped on the partition to the driver. "Arthur, did you see him?"

"I saw him, sir," Arthur’s voice came through the intercom, sounding more tense than usual. "We’re being followed. Two cars back. A silver sedan."

Rosw cursed under his breath. He reached into the hidden compartment of the car and pulled out a small, encrypted device. "Change the route. We’re not going back to the manor yet. Take us to the safe house in the District."

"Rosw, what’s going on?" I demanded, the fear finally breaking through my mask. "Who are those people? Does this have to do with 'The Raven'?"

Rosw turned to me, his jaw tight. He grabbed my hand—not with the fake tenderness of the press conference, but with a firm, protective grip. "Listen to me, Lucian. You wanted to know the secret. You wanted to know why I forced this marriage. It wasn't just to ruin your father. It was to keep you alive."

"To keep me alive? From who?"

"From the people your father betrayed," Rosw said, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something that looked like regret. "The silver feather belongs to the Syndicate. They believe your father stole something from them—something far more valuable than money. And since he’s currently under my 'protection' in the hospital, they’ve decided that his daughter is the next best thing to negotiate with."

A loud thud echoed through the car as a silver sedan slammed into our rear bumper.

"Hold on!" Arthur yelled.

The SUV swerved as the chase began. I looked at Rosw, the man I was supposed to hate, the man who had stolen my life. He was leaning over me, using his own body as a shield as the sound of a gunshot shattered the rear window.

"Why?" I screamed over the wind. "Why save me if you hate my family so much?"

Rosw looked down at me, his face inches from mine. Amidst the chaos and the gunfire, his voice was a chilling whisper. "Because I’m not done with you yet, Lucian. And nobody gets to destroy my property but me."