The Reaper's Captive

2

THE REAPER’S CAPTIVE

Chapter Two: The Woman Who Owned His Heart

Morning arrived, but Faye didn't feel as though a new day had begun.

She had barely slept.

Every unfamiliar sound outside her bedroom made her sit up, hoping someone had finally come to tell her she could go home. Each time, the footsteps passed without stopping.

Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her long cream-blonde hair was tangled around her shoulders.

Faye missed her bedroom.

She missed her school uniform hanging behind the door, her dance shoes beside her wardrobe, and the music she usually played while getting ready for class.

Most of all, she missed Mia.

Her best friend would be waiting for her at school that morning. They had planned to practise their dance routine together after lessons.

Faye had promised she wouldn't be late.

Now she didn't even know where she was.

She pressed her face into the pillow.

“Mia,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “I'm sorry.”

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

Faye quickly wiped her cheeks.

The door opened, and a maid entered carrying a tray.

“Breakfast.”

Faye looked at the tray but didn't move.

“Please,” she asked softly, “could I borrow a phone? I just want to tell my family I'm safe.”

The maid's expression changed.

“You're not permitted to contact anyone.”

“But they'll be worried about me.”

“Those are my instructions.”

The maid placed the tray on the table and turned to leave.

Faye hurried after her, but the woman stepped outside and locked the door.

Faye stood motionless.

She hadn't even been allowed to finish asking.

Slowly, she returned to the table and sat down. Her stomach hurt with hunger, but she could barely swallow anything.

She had always believed that if she treated people kindly, they would treat her kindly in return.

For the first time, she wondered whether that was true.

---

Downstairs, Damon Vance was finishing his coffee when Vivienne Moretti arrived.

She entered the mansion wearing a fitted red dress, expensive heels, and a smile that suggested the entire world belonged to her.

“Damon, darling.”

She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

He turned slightly, and her lips brushed the side of his jaw instead.

Vivienne's smile tightened.

“You've been avoiding me.”

“I've been busy.”

“You're always busy.”

She sat opposite him, crossing her legs.

“I had to hear from your men that you've brought a girl into this house.”

Damon continued reading the document in his hand.

“And?”

Vivienne stared at him.

“And? That's all you have to say?”

“What would you prefer?”

“An explanation.”

“You're not entitled to one.”

Her fingernails pressed into her palm.

Vivienne had spent years believing she would eventually become Damon's wife. Their families had discussed the possibility, and she had never doubted that she was the woman most suited to stand beside him.

Damon was powerful, wealthy, and feared.

She wanted all of it.

But she also wanted him to look at her the way other men looked at women they desired.

He never had.

“Who is she?” Vivienne asked.

“No one you need to concern yourself with.”

That answer irritated her more than a direct insult would have.

A young maid entered to collect the empty coffee cup.

Vivienne turned towards her.

“Tell me about the girl upstairs.”

The maid hesitated.

“Miss DeLuca? She hasn't left her room.”

“Miss DeLuca,” Vivienne repeated slowly.

So the girl had a name.

“And why is she here?”

“I don't know, ma'am.”

Vivienne smiled without warmth.

“Find out.”

---

Faye had finally managed to eat a little when the bedroom door opened again.

This time, a woman entered.

Faye immediately noticed her beauty. She looked elegant and confident, with glossy black hair and a red dress that fitted her perfectly.

The woman studied Faye as though she were something unpleasant on an expensive carpet.

“So you're the girl everyone's talking about.”

Faye rose nervously.

“Hello.”

The woman glanced around the bedroom.

“Comfortable, aren't you?”

Faye looked at the bed, then back at her.

“I'd rather be at home.”

“I'm sure you would.”

The woman approached her, her perfume filling the room.

“I'm Vivienne Moretti.”

Faye nodded politely.

“I'm Faye.”

“I know who you are.”

Something in her tone made Faye lower her eyes.

Vivienne walked towards the table and examined the breakfast tray.

“Have you been given everything you need?”

Faye hesitated.

“I just want to go home.”

Vivienne laughed softly.

“Oh, sweetheart. You should stop asking for things you aren't going to get.”

Faye's fingers curled around the edge of her sleeve.

“Please, I don't understand what's happening.”

“Then let me make one thing clear.” Vivienne turned towards her. “Damon Vance is not a man you should ever dream of getting close to.”

Faye looked up in alarm.

“I don't want to get close to him. I want to leave.”

For a moment, Vivienne seemed almost disappointed.

Perhaps she'd expected Faye to be a shameless girl who had deliberately entered Damon's life.

Instead, she found a frightened young woman who looked as though she might cry if someone raised their voice.

Vivienne found that even more irritating.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

She moved towards the door, then paused.

“And another thing. I'm the woman who will stand beside Damon when he finally decides to marry.”

Faye stared at her.

“Are you his wife?”

“Not yet.”

Vivienne smiled.

“But I will be.”

She left without another word.

Faye sat down slowly.

She hadn't wanted anything from Damon Vance.

She didn't want his money, his mansion, or his attention.

She wanted her schoolbooks, her dance classes, and the ordinary life she'd had only yesterday.

Yet somehow, even that seemed impossible now.

---

Later that afternoon, Faye was escorted downstairs to a small sitting room.

She had begged to remain in her bedroom, but a guard had informed her that Damon wanted her to eat properly.

She didn't understand why he cared whether she ate, but she was too frightened to ask.

When she entered the room, two men were standing near the fireplace.

One of them looked at her with open contempt.

“So this is the famous prisoner.”

The other laughed.

“She's just a schoolgirl.”

Faye lowered her gaze.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

The first man frowned.

“What are you apologising for?”

Faye didn't know how to answer.

She apologised whenever she felt someone was angry with her. It was a habit she had never managed to break.

The man stepped closer.

“You'd better learn to stay out of our way, little girl. We don't need a helpless burden in this house.”

Faye nodded quickly.

“Yes. I'm sorry.”

“Stop apologising!”

She flinched.

At that moment, another voice interrupted them.

“Marco.”

The men turned.

Damon stood in the doorway, his expression cold.

Marco Bellini straightened immediately.

“Boss.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. We were just speaking to the girl.”

Damon's gaze shifted to Faye.

She stood with her hands clasped together, her eyes lowered and her shoulders drawn inward.

She looked frightened.

He didn't like the way she was looking at the floor as though she expected someone to strike her.

“Leave,” he ordered.

Marco's jaw tightened.

“But—”

“Do you want me to repeat myself?”

Both men left.

Faye remained where she was.

Damon approached the table and pulled out a chair.

“Sit.”

She obeyed.

“Eat.”

Faye glanced at the food.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He studied her for a moment.

“Do you always apologise when someone speaks to you?”

Her cheeks warmed.

“I don't like making people angry.”

“Then you've come to the wrong place.”

Faye's eyes filled with tears.

Damon noticed.

For one uncomfortable second, he didn't know what to say.

He had expected shouting, accusations, perhaps even an attempt to attack him.

He hadn't expected this quiet sadness.

“Eat your food, Faye.”

He turned and left before she could answer.

Faye watched him go.

She still feared him.

But she couldn't understand why he'd sent the other men away.

And Damon, walking down the corridor, couldn't understand why the sight of her frightened eyes had stayed with him.

---

That evening, Vivienne stood outside Damon's office.

Through the partially open door, she watched him examining documents.

She had seen the way he dismissed Marco.

She had heard that Damon himself had ordered Faye to be fed.

It was a small thing.

But Damon Vance wasn't a man who concerned himself with small things.

Vivienne's expression hardened.

She would not allow a frightened schoolgirl to take her place.

If Faye believed she could remain in this mansion without consequences, she was mistaken.

Vivienne turned away, already considering how to make the girl understand her position.

Inside the office, Damon lifted his eyes towards the door.

He had seen Vivienne standing there.

He knew her well enough to recognise that look.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, the thought of her troubling Faye irritated him.

He returned to his paperwork.

Faye DeLuca was a prisoner.

Nothing more.

He repeated the words silently until he almost believed them.

Almost.