Chapter Three – The Deal
905 Words
Aurora Haye’s POV
I should have thrown him out.
I should have screamed, called someone, or done something. But the truth? I was frozen.
Damien Voss stood in my living room like he’d built the walls himself, staring at the chest that had haunted my family for years. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t panicking. He moved with the kind of certainty that told me he always got what he came for.
And right now, what he wanted was in my apartment.
“I don’t know what you think this is,” I said, my voice tight, “but that chest doesn’t belong to you.”
His eyes flicked to me. Calm. Amused. “No? You want to open it and prove me wrong?”
I clenched my jaw. “I don’t have the key.”
“Exactly.” He took a slow step closer, and my breath caught. “Which means you can’t even begin to understand what you’re holding. You think it’s just some family keepsake? Aurora, men would burn cities to ash for what’s inside.”
My stomach knotted. His certainty was scarier than threats.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whispered.
“Neither did I.” His voice dipped lower, more personal. “But here we are.”
He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint scar cutting through his left brow. His presence was suffocating, intoxicating, and infuriating all at once.
“Get to the point,” I said, forcing steel into my voice. “What do you want from me?”
He studied me for a moment, then said it plainly: “A deal.”
I laughed. Short. Sharp. “You break into my home, threaten me, and now you want to negotiate?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You’ll find I don’t bluff, Aurora. You need me more than you realize.”
“I need you like I need a hole in the head.”
“Cute,” he murmured, almost smiling.
The silence stretched, thick and tense, before he finally laid it out. “That chest will draw attention. The wrong kind. Men are already circling. If you think last night was a coincidence, you’re naive.”
I froze. “Last night?”
“The knock. The text.” His eyes didn’t waver. “That wasn’t me.”
My pulse stumbled. “You expect me to believe—”
“I don’t care what you believe. The point is, if I could find you, so can they. And they won’t ask politely for what they want.”
The room felt colder suddenly.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, though doubt already gnawed at me.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Your mother tried to protect you from this. But she’s gone now. And all you have left is me.”
The words landed like a punch. I hated how part of me wanted to believe him, how his voice slid under my skin.
“What’s the deal?” I asked finally, my throat dry.
His gaze lingered on me, intense, unyielding. “You stay under my protection. You come with me. In return, I keep you alive and that chest in one piece.”
I blinked. “That’s not a deal. That’s a hostage situation.”
“Call it what you like.” He shrugged. “But you’ll say yes.”
“Why the hell would I?”
“Because you’re smart.” His tone sharpened, his eyes pinning me in place. “And because somewhere in you, you know I’m right.”
I shook my head, panic crawling up my spine. “No. No, I can’t just… leave my life.”
He let out a soft laugh, but it was cold. “What life? The workshop you can barely pay rent on? The neighbors who don’t even know your name? You’re clinging to scraps, Aurora. I’m offering you survival.”
Anger flared, hot and sharp. “You don’t know me.”
Something flickered in his eyes: then heat, challenge. “Then let me.”
The air between us thickened. My heart thudded loud enough I was sure he heard it. I wanted to scream, to shove him out, but all I could do was stand there, trembling in fury and something I refused to name.
Finally, I forced the words out. “And if I say no?”
Damien leaned in, so close his breath brushed my ear. “Then someone else will come for you. And unlike me, they won’t ask.”
I shivered. Hated that I shivered.
He pulled back, his expression unreadable now, walls back up. “Twenty-four hours. That’s all you have. Pack your things, and decide if you want to live. Or wait here for them to tear this place apart.”
With that, he turned, strode to the door, and opened it like it wasn’t even locked.
“Wait!” The word tore from me before I could stop it.
He stilled, glancing back, his profile sharp in the gray morning light.
My voice shook. “Why? Why me? Why not just take the chest and go?”
For the first time, his gaze softened, almost like he was tired. “Because it doesn’t open without you.”
And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving me staring at the chest that had just destroyed my life.
- Writer
