Bound by Vows and Lies

CHAPTER THREE

The Shadow at Her Window

Elena's heartbeat hustled as she gazed at the outline outside her window. The voice, smooth as oil, crawled into her thoughts and creeped her out.

"Elena," Victor called once more, his tone low and unshakable.

Her legs felt like lead, but she struggled to make a move. Crossing the room, she got to the window and faltered, the unstable curtain the only hindrance between her and the one who appeared to grasp her life.

Gently, she stripped back the fabric. Victor stood on the opposite side of the glass, his face half-concealed in shadows. His sharp features were enlightened by the pale twilight, giving him a practically ghostly appearance.

"What do you want?" she murmured, her voice shudder yet bound with rebellion.

He grinned, the articulation sending a wave of unrest through her. "To talk. Open the window."

"Why would I do that?" she shot back, gripping the curtain tightly.

Victor drew nearer, his breath misting the glass. "Because I have a secret you'll want to hear. And if I were here to hurt you, I wouldn't tap, would I?"

Elena wavered, her impulses shouting at her to dismiss him. But interest perplexed her, combined with a developing feeling of fear. Contrary to what she might think is best, she unlatched the window and slid it open an inch.

"Speak," she requested.

Victor's grin broadened, but his tone became serious. "You're about to step into Damian Blackwood's world, and trust me, you're not prepared for it."

"I don't have a choice," Elena said strongly.

"Obviously you do," Victor countered. "But you've been fed with a wrong belief. Also, that is precisely what Damian wants."

She squinted her eyes, doubt blending. "Why are you telling me this? You made it crystal clear you want me to proceed with the marriage."

Victor tilted his head, concentrating on her like a falcon evaluating its prey. "Since Damian and I aren't precisely on the best of conditions. And you, my dear, might just be the way to tilting the fulcrum in my favor."

Elena's stomach bent. "You're using me."

Victor laughed, the sound delicate but threatening. "We all are using somebody, Elena. The question is, would you like to be a pawn… or a player?"

She folded her arms, her annoyance erupting. "I'm not playing your game, Victor."

"Wow, but you are, already," he said without a hitch. "You're more involved than you ever imagined. And if you're sharp, you'll let me assist you."

Elena shook her head. "And why should I count on you?"

Victor rested up against the windowsill, his appearance obscuring. "Because if you don't, you'll be completely under Damian's control. Also, trust me, mercy is far from what he's known for."

The words sent a chill through her, yet she wouldn't show it. "If Damian is so dreadful, why are you inciting him? Are you not afraid he'll come for you?"

Victor's grin returned, yet it was colder this time. "Let him attempt it. I've endured more terrible times than Damian Blackwood."

Elena looked behind her, her mind fast paced. If her dad heard this discussion, it could aggravate things. "What do you need me for?" she asked at last.

"For the time being? Nothing," Victor said, his tone light but bound with something more obscure. "Consider this as a gentle warning. Be on the lookout. And when the time arrives, remember who came to your rescue."

He stepped back, his shadow withdrawing into the darkness. "Best of luck, Elena," he said, his voice very nearly a murmur. "You will need it."

Before she could answer, he vanished into the night, abandoning her with her thoughts.

The Following Morning

The sun crawled through the curtains, washing Elena's room in delicate light. But the glow of the morning did practically nothing to erase the fear that had gotten comfortable in her chest.

Victor's warning played in her mind as she got dressed, the heaviness of the day ahead pushing down on her. Today, she should give Damian her response.

Her mom welcomed her in the kitchen with a conditional grin, her red-rimmed eyes betraying the fretful night she had gone through. "Did you sleep well?" Margaret asked, her voice delicate.

"Not actually," Elena conceded, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Margaret faltered, then, advanced to put a hand on her daughter's arm. "I realize this is ridiculous," she said delicately.. We're so pleased with you for doing this. For saving us."

Elena pulled her arm away, her outrage stewing underneath the surface. "Don't make me seem like a legend, Mom. I'm simply doing what you drove me into."

Her mom recoiled but said nothing.

Charles came into the room then, his demeanor weighty with guilt. "Damian will be here around early afternoon," he said abruptly.

Elena gestured, her chest fixing. "I'll be prepared."

Damian's Return

The sound of a car outside flagged Damian's arrival. Elena looked through the window and saw him get out of a smooth dark vehicle, all his steps radiating composure and control.

He stepped into the house without knocking, his presence sizing up the room. His penetrating dark eyes quickly looked for Elena, and briefly, she felt as though he could see straight through her.

"Have you made your choice?" Damian asked, his voice quiet yet conveying an edge that cautioned against hesitation.

Elena squared her shoulders, declining to turn away. "I'll do it."

A gleam of fulfillment crossed his face, however it was gone in a moment. "Great."

Margaret let out an eased wail, while Charles murmured a calm "Thank you."

Damian disregarded them, his focus exclusively on Elena. "We'll settle the arrangements tomorrow. Be prepared."

"Pause," Elena said, her voice firm. "Before I consent to anything, I have conditions."

Damian's eyebrows rose, his appearance muddled. "You're not in a position to make requests."

"Perhaps not," Elena conceded. "But if you want me to fulfill the role of your wife, you'll listen."

He respected her briefly, then, then gestured once. "I'm listening."

"I want straightforwardness," she said. "No secrets, no lies. If I'm going to be included in your world, I need to be fully aware of what I'm strolling into."

Damian's lips bent into a weak grin. "Bold. You really tried."

"I'm not kidding," she said, her voice firm.

"I can see that," he answered. "Great. However, be cautious what you wish for, Elena. The reality of the situation isn't always appealing"

With that, he turned and left swiftly as he had shown up.

As the sun plunged beneath the skyline, Elena sat in her room, gazing at the wedding band Damian had sent over as a badge of the agreement. The diamond shimmered jokingly in the faint light, an image of her sacrifice.

An unexpected thump at her door made her leap. She opened it to find her dad, his face pale and drawn.

"What is it?" she asked, her stomach hitching with unrest.

Charles wavered, then gave her a folded piece of paper. "I found this at the door. It's for you."

Elena unfolded the note, her hands shaking as she read the words scribbled in sharp, angular handwriting:

"You've picked your side, however remember — each decision has repercussions. I'll be watching."

There was no signature, but she didn't ask for one.

Victor.

Her heart beat as she grasped the note, her mind wondering. She was caught between two devils, and the web around her was drawing in.

For the first time, she contemplated whether there was an exit plan.

Also, if there wasn't… to what extent could she try to survive?