VOWS OF RUIN:MARRIED TO THE ENEMY

Chapter2:THE INVITATION

Soraya Vance pov

​The moment I stepped inside Le Gabriel, the familiar smell hit me: old-fashioned, wet coats, and strong coffee. For some reason, it made my chest feel tight. This place has always felt safe to me. Hidden in a quiet corner of the eighth district of Germany, far from the busy streets and noisy people visiting for a short time, the little coffee shop had been my escape for years. My father used to take me here after long days at his office. I can still remember sitting across from him, watching him laugh over his coffee while I told him about my day. Back then, everything felt simple. His voice made me feel safe. His presence made me believe nothing could hurt me. But that was before everything changed. Before I learned that some secrets could destroy a family, I looked around the coffee shop, trying to push the memories away. My palms felt cold. The same tables were still there. The same soft music played in the background. Even the smell of coffee hadn't changed. But my father was gone. And the safety I once felt here had disappeared with him. Now, all I could feel was fear. And the growing certainty that I had come here for a reason I wasn't ready to face.

​I sat in the soft small private seating area, both hands wrapped tightly around my cup of black coffee. I was holding it so hard that my fingers had turned pale. Across from me sat Gareth Mercer. He wore a thick dark grey jacket with soft leather patches on the elbows. His silver hair was neatly combed back, just as I remembered. Even at his age, there was something calm and respectable about him. He looked like the kind of old man everyone trusted, the retired lawyer, the family friend, the person who had been there for me when everything else fell apart. To me, Gareth was more than that. He was one of the few people left who still reminded me of my childhood.“You look pale, Soraya,” he said softly. His voice was warm and familiar. For a moment, I was so shocked. That voice had comforted me through some of the worst nights of my life. He had been there when I couldn't sleep, when panic took over, and when I spent long hours beside my mother’s hospital bed, trying not to cry. Gareth reached across the small smooth table and gently placed his hand over mine. His hand was warm. Mine was shaking.“You went to the cemetery again, didn't you?” he asked.I looked down at our hands.I didn't answer.I didn't need to. Gareth already knew. His eyes softened as he studied my face.“It's the tenth anniversary today,” he whispered. My throat tightened. Ten years. Ten years since I had lost her. And somehow, saying it out loud made the pain feel just as fresh as it had that day.let his hand stay over mine, even though I was shivering. I was still freezing from standing in the rain all morning.

​"I had to be there, Gareth," I said quietly. "You know I did."​" I know," he sighed. He looked at me sadly, and for once, I felt like he truly meant it. He pulled his hand back and started fiddling with his reading glasses. "Ten years is a long time to carry all this anger, Soraya. But things haven't changed. And neither has the man you're chasing."​I felt sick just thinking about him. Theron Sterling.​"I'm bringing him down today," I whispered. My mouth was dry, but I meant it.​ Gareth watched me for a long time. He looked proud, but there was a quick flash of worry he tried to hide. Or maybe he was just sizing me up. I was too tired to tell. He’d always looked out for me. Ever since the night my dad died, with police lights flashing through our windows, Gareth had been there. He bought my books before I quit law school, helped my mom when she got sick, and let me cry and scream about the Sterling for hours on end.​ If anyone understood why I hated them, it was Gareth. He saw my dad build his business from nothing, only to watch a rich guy who had never worked a hard day in his life steal it all.​" Are you sure you want to do this?" Gareth asked softly. He leaned in closer, and suddenly I didn't notice the noise of the coffee shop anymore. "Theron Sterling isn't someone you can just trick. He's dangerous. People downtown call him a ghost for a reason. He leaves no clues, he trusts nobody, and his building is locked down tight. If he catches you . . . if he even guesses you aren't just some rich girl looking for a handout, he won't just ruin your life. He'll make sure you disappear."​" Let him try," I said. My voice was quiet, but it didn't shake. "He took my dad away. He took everything we owned, put my mom in a hospital bed, and built his huge, shiny tower over our ruined lives. It's time someone took it apart from the inside."​ Gareth let out a long breath. For a second, it almost sounded like a laugh, but he quickly frowned. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick, dark green folder. He slid it across the table until it stopped right by my coffee cup.

​I was terrified. I couldn't breathe for a moment. My hands shook as I reached for the folder. I opened the flap. Inside lay a thick, cream-colored invitation. The shiny silver logo of the Sterling Corporation stared back at me.​ Mr. Theron Sterling requests your presence at the Vanguard Tech Gala. Guest: Soraya Vance. VIP Access.​" How?" I was shaken, looking up at Gareth. "Gareth, this is a serious situation. They run deep background checks for this party. They dig into everyone's past. Even politicians get turned away. How did my real name get on here?"​ Gareth just smiled a little and leaned back in his seat. He dropped a sugar cube into his coffee and stirred it slowly. The sound of his spoon against the cup sounded so loud in the quiet shop.​"Let's just say that after forty years as a lawyer, a lot of people owe me," he said. His voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold. "Sterling's company is huge, yes. But every wall has a crack. Theron’s uncle has been secretly selling off small pieces of his power to pay for his gambling problems. I just talked to the right people. I hinted that a smart young woman was looking to spend some big money on tech, and they looked the other way."

I looked at the invitation. The thin silver metal caught the not bright, warm glow of the café lamps, and my hands shook just a little. It felt like I was holding a live bomb. Going through those doors tonight meant no turning back. I’d be walking straight into a trap, dressed up in a perfect suit, hiding a heart full of poison. I had to smile and pretend I wanted to play a deadly game.​" There's something else you need to know," Gareth said. His voice changed, the warmth disappearing into a quick, hard edge. He leaned across the table, his blue eyes tight with worry. "Bodhi called me this morning. He finished the tracking bracelet." My heart jumped into my throat. "Bodai? Why would he call you?"​" Because he knows you're taking too many risks," Gareth told me, his voice firm but gentle. "He's scared of you, Soraya. We both are. The broken piece hidden in that diamond can steal Theron's files, but his safety is very violent. If his network catches even the smallest signal from your bracelet, the whole building locks down in ninety seconds. If you get trapped in his study when those doors lock, I can't save you. No amount of favors in German will get you out."

I snapped the leather folder shut. The sharp click of the magnet sounded loud in my ears, making my stomach twist. I honestly didn't care how dangerous this was anymore. I didn't care if Bodhi stayed up all night worrying, or if Gareth was putting his entire career on the line for me. For ten long years, I had carried the impossible, painful weight of what they did to my father. I’d watched everyone else move on with their lives while I just felt stuck, angry, and completely robbed. But tonight, I was finally doing something about it.​"I know what I'm walking into, Gareth," I said quietly, putting the folder deep inside my heavy winter coat. I stood up and pulled the collar tight around me, shaking a little. The cold metal of the invitation pressed hard against my ribs, over my wildly beating heart. "Tell Bodai I’ll message the secure line the second I clear security. And thank you . . . for everything."​ Gareth just sat there, looking up at me with those sad, worried eyes that always made me feel completely exposed. He slowly lifted his coffee cup to me, wishing me luck without saying a single word.​" Watch your back, Soraya," he whispered. I could hear the raw, genuine fear shaking his voice. "Remember who you're dealing with. He didn't get this powerful by showing mercy. If you're going to get close to him tonight, just make sure you're the one holding the knife."

​I didn't answer. I turned on my heel and walked out of the café, pushing open the heavy glass door into the biting wind.​ The rain had stopped, leaving the black road surface wet, black, and reflecting the harsh colorful lights of the city like shattered glass. I pulled my collar up, my boots clicking repeatedly against the hard surface covering the road as I walked toward the edge of the road where a dark, anonymous sedan was waiting in the shadows.​ My phone vibrated sharply against the upper part of my leg. I pulled it out, unlocking the screen with a trembling thumb. It was a text from an unknown, heavily secret number, directed through three different proxy servers in Zurich.​ Unknown: Welcome to the game, little bird. I hear you're looking for a king to kill. Don't worry, I left the front gate unlocked for you.

​My feet suddenly froze on the wet sidewalk. I couldn't even catch my breath, a sickening rush of ice-water panic flooding straight into my veins. I looked up, frantically scanning the dark, looming shapes of the city skyline and the crowded streets below. I was searching for a pair of storm-gray eyes I hadn't even met in person yet, knowing with an absolute, terrifying certainty that he was already watching me.​ Then, my phone vibrated heavily in my coat pocket.​ My hands shook as I pulled it out and looked at the glowing screen. It was a message from an unknown number containing a single attachment: a clear, real-time photo of the back of my own head.

​Beneath it was a one-line of text: You wore the wrong shoes for running, Soraya.