Chapter 4: No Other Choice
1026 Words
I didn't remember hanging up on the dispatcher.
I remembered standing in my bedroom doorway, staring at that single red rose as though it might move if I blinked.
Then I remembered sitting on my kitchen floor an hour later while two police officers took a report that had felt useless the moment I started giving it.
No forced entry,no stolen property. No description beyond the eyes of a stranger hidden behind a ski mask.
"We'll increase patrols in the area," one of the officers said in the practiced tone of someone who had repeated the same promise hundreds of times.
I watched them leave.
I already knew a patrol car driving past my building twice a night wouldn't stop whoever had left that rose.
I locked myself in the bathroom and slid onto the cold tile floor, pulling my knees against my chest.
Adrian Stone's voice replayed in my mind.
"You have exactly two choices."
I had hated him for saying it.Sitting there alone...I hated him even more because he had been right.
By morning, I had packed one suitcase.I refused to think too hard about what that meant.
The drive back to Stone Manor felt different.Not because the gates were any less intimidating.Not because the mansion seemed any smaller.
But because this time...I was the one asking to be let in.He was waiting in the same room.
Of course he was.
It was almost as though he had never left.As though the last twelve hours had happened to someone else.
"You came back," he said.
There was no satisfaction in his voice,just another fact acknowledged.
"Someone broke into my apartment last night."
My voice sounded steadier than I felt.My hands betrayed me, twisting the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white.
"They didn't steal anything."
I swallowed.
"They left a rose on my pillow."
Something shifted in his eyes.It vanished so quickly I almost convinced myself I had imagined it.
"They wanted you to know they could reach you," he said.
"That wasn't a threat."
"It was a demonstration."
"I know."
My voice sounded painfully small.
"I'm here because I don't have another choice."
"Not because I think you were right."
"I don't need you to agree with me."
His gaze never wavered.
"I need you to sign the paperwork."
That was it.No acknowledgment of what it had cost me to walk back through those doors.Just business.
"So that's all?"
The frustration escaped before I could stop it.
"No 'I'm sorry someone invaded your home'?"
"No 'That must have been terrifying'?"
"Just paperwork?"
He regarded me calmly.
"Would sympathy have kept them out of your apartment?"
The words stung because I couldn't answer them.He already knew that.He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.
"Sit."
I obeyed.
Mostly because my legs were too exhausted to keep pretending they weren't shaking.
"These are the terms."
He slid a thick folder across the polished desk.
"You'll live here at Stone Manor."
"There will be security around you at all times."
"No exceptions."
"You'll attend public events with me when necessary."
"Our marriage will appear genuine to everyone outside this house."
He paused.
"In private..."
"You owe me nothing beyond basic civility."
He tapped the folder.
"The marriage is a legal shield."
"Not a life sentence."
"When the threat against you is eliminated..."
"We'll discuss ending it."
"Quietly."
I stared at the documents.
"And if I refuse?"
"You won't."
He didn't sound arrogant.Only certain.
"The alternative is that the rose becomes something worse."
I wanted to argue.I wanted to find a flaw in his reasoning.A loophole.A door I hadn't seen.There wasn't one.
Realizing that was somehow more humiliating than anything he had actually said.
"I have a job."
It sounded ridiculous the moment I said it.
"I have children who expect me every morning."
"You'll keep your job if you want to."
His answer came immediately.
"I'll adjust your security accordingly."
He leaned back.
"I'm not asking you to surrender your life."
"I'm asking you to let me protect it."
"You're asking me to marry you."
"Semantics."
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"This isn't semantics to me."
For the briefest second, something flickered across his face.Gone before I could identify it.For one impossible moment...I thought he might say something kind.
Instead...
"Sign it."
He nodded toward the papers.
"Or don't."
"But decide before someone else decides for you."
I picked up the pen.
My hand hovered over the signature line.Seconds stretched into what felt like forever.I could feel him watching me.
I hated him for making me into someone who needed saving.I hated myself even more for needing it.I thought about the rose.I thought about the man collapsing onto the concrete.I thought about the tiny fingerprints drying on paintings inside my classroom.
I signed.
The scratch of the pen echoed through the silent room.Something settled inside me.Not relief.
Something final.
Like a door quietly closing behind me.
"Congratulations," Adrian said.
He collected the folder with the same calm efficiency as though we had just finalized a business merger.
"Welcome to the family."
Before I could answer, the doors behind me opened.
"Well."
An older man's voice drifted across the room.
"So you're the young woman who's about to ruin my grandson's carefully organized life."
I turned.
The man was tall despite his age, his silver hair neatly combed, a soft cashmere cardigan looking strangely out of place against all the marble and glass surrounding him.
He studied me with bright, intelligent eyes.There was kindness in them.But also calculation.
As though he had been waiting to meet me for a very long time.
"Victor."
For the first time since I'd met Adrian...
I heard tension in his voice.
"This isn't the time."
Victor ignored him.
"It's exactly the time."
His smile widened.
"You've signed already."
He looked genuinely impressed.
"Efficient."
"Mr. Stone..."
I shook my head.
"I think you've misunderstood what's happening."
"Oh, no."
He chuckled softly.
"I understand perfectly."
His eyes remained on mine.
"My grandson believes he's arranged a neat little business transaction."
Then he looked at Adrian.The smile became positively mischievous.
"He has absolutely no idea what he's just signed himself up for."
- Writer
