The Reaper's Captive

3

THE REAPER’S CAPTIVE

Chapter Three: The Girl Who Danced in the Dark

Faye had always believed that silence could be peaceful.

At home, silence meant her father was reading in his study. At school, it meant the precious minutes before her dance instructor turned on the music.

But here, silence felt like a locked door.

Three days had passed since Damon Vance had taken her.

Three days without her phone. Three days without hearing Mia’s cheerful voice. Three days without knowing whether her father was searching for her.

And three days without dancing.

Faye sat beside the bedroom window, her long cream-blonde hair falling over her shoulders. Beyond the glass, the garden stretched beneath the afternoon sun. A tall iron fence surrounded the estate, and guards stood at every entrance.

Even the birds were free to leave.

She pressed her forehead against the cool window.

“I want to go home,” she whispered.

No one answered.

A soft knock came from the door.

Faye hurried to her feet, hoping it might be someone bringing news from home.

Instead, Ryan Vance entered carrying a tray.

“I brought you lunch.”

She stared at him cautiously. “You could have left it outside.”

“I could have.” He placed the tray on a small table. “But then I would have missed the pleasure of being insulted by your silence.”

Despite herself, Faye almost smiled.

Almost.

Ryan noticed and looked pleased with his small victory.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“And I meant it yesterday.”

“Stubborn,” he murmured.

Faye lowered her eyes. “Please don’t make fun of me.”

His expression softened.

“I wasn’t.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Faye gathered her courage.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

Ryan’s smile disappeared.

“I need to call my best friend. She must be worried about me.” Her voice trembled. “I just want to tell her I’m alive.”

He looked toward the open doorway, as if expecting someone to appear.

“Damon won’t like it.”

“Does everything have to depend on what Damon likes?”

The question escaped before she could stop it.

Ryan studied her. Beneath her frightened expression, he caught a glimpse of the girl she might have been if her life hadn’t been turned upside down.

“No,” he said quietly. “It shouldn’t.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Five minutes. Don’t tell her where you are, and don’t let anyone hear you.”

Faye stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re helping me?”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Her hands shook as she accepted the phone.

She dialled Mia’s number from memory.

It rang once.

Twice.

“Hello?”

Faye’s breath caught.

“Mia?”

“Faye?” Her friend’s voice rose sharply. “Oh my God! Where are you? I’ve been calling you for days! Your father said you disappeared, and nobody knows anything. I’ve been so scared!”

Tears filled Faye’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise! Just tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you.”

Faye glanced at Ryan.

“I don’t know if I can tell you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t explain everything right now. I’m safe, I think. Please don’t stop looking for me.”

“Faye, you’re frightening me.”

“I know.” Her voice broke. “I miss you.”

“And I miss you too. What about your dance audition? You can’t miss it. You’ve worked so hard!”

Faye closed her eyes.

Her dream suddenly felt painfully far away.

“I know.”

Footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Ryan’s head snapped toward the door.

“Time’s up,” he whispered.

“Wait!” Mia cried through the phone. “Faye, please—”

The call ended.

Faye held the phone against her chest, tears slipping down her cheeks.

For three days, she had tried not to cry.

Now she couldn’t stop.

Ryan gently took the phone back.

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Thank you for letting me hear her voice.”

He had no answer to that.

Because kindness, in Damon Vance’s world, was often the most dangerous thing a person could offer.

---

That evening, Faye discovered something unexpected.

A music room.

She had been walking back from dinner with a maid when she heard a piano playing somewhere down the eastern corridor. The melody was slow and haunting, drifting through the mansion like a memory.

She stopped.

“What’s that room?” she asked.

The maid’s expression changed immediately.

“Keep walking, Miss DeLuca.”

“But—”

“Please.”

The maid hurried away, leaving Faye alone in the corridor.

Faye listened to the melody for another moment.

Then, slowly, she followed it.

The music room stood at the end of the hall. Its doors were slightly open, revealing a polished wooden floor, tall mirrors, and a grand piano beside the windows.

It was beautiful.

And empty.

Faye stepped inside.

For the first time since her kidnapping, she felt something other than fear.

She slipped off her shoes.

Then she began to dance.

There was no music now except the melody still lingering in her mind. She moved carefully at first, lifting her arms, turning beneath the warm light, allowing her body to remember the freedom her heart had forgotten.

For a few precious minutes, she wasn’t a prisoner.

She was Faye.

The girl who dreamed of dancing beneath bright stage lights.

The girl who wanted a future that belonged to her.

She turned once more—

And froze.

Damon stood in the doorway.

His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his long, silky hair falling across his forehead. His dark eyes rested on her bare feet before slowly lifting to her face.

Faye immediately lowered her arms.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression hardened.

“Why are you apologising?”

She swallowed. “I shouldn’t have come in here.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one.”

“Then why?”

Faye couldn’t answer.

Damon stepped into the room.

“Continue.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Dance.”

“I can’t.”

“You were doing it a moment ago.”

“Not with you watching.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because you’re frightening.”

The words fell into the silence.

Faye looked horrified by her own honesty.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Stop apologising.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but she fell silent immediately.

Damon studied her for several seconds.

Then he turned toward the door.

“You can use this room whenever you want.”

She stared at him.

“Really?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

He left before she could thank him.

Faye remained in the centre of the room, confused by the strange permission he had given her.

She couldn’t understand Damon Vance.

One moment, he made her feel like a prisoner.

The next, he gave her a small piece of the life she had lost.

And somehow, that frightened her more than his anger.

---

“Since when do you allow prisoners to wander around the estate?”

Marco Bellini’s voice followed Damon into his private office.

Damon removed his watch and placed it on the desk.

“She was in the music room.”

“I know. I also know you allowed her to stay.”

Damon said nothing.

Marco folded his arms.

“Your men are beginning to talk. They think you’ve gone soft.”

Damon’s gaze lifted.

“Let them talk.”

“And if she becomes a problem?”

“She won’t.”

“You sound very certain.”

Damon rose slowly from his chair.

Marco didn’t step back, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

“Listen carefully,” Damon said. “I don’t care what you think of her. I don’t care what my men think of her.”

His voice dropped.

“But no one touches her.”

Marco’s jaw tightened.

“You’re protecting her.”

Damon’s expression turned glacial.

“I’m protecting what is under my roof.”

“Of course.”

Marco bowed his head slightly, though the doubt remained in his eyes.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

He walked out.

Damon stood alone, staring at the closed door.

He had given Faye one room. One small freedom.

It should have meant nothing.

So why had the sight of her dancing stayed in his mind long after he left?

He poured himself a drink and took a slow sip.

Then he made himself a promise.

Whatever happened inside his mansion, Faye DeLuca would remain his responsibility.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

At least, that was what he intended to believe.

To be continued…