Chapter 2
910 Words
Cara's POV
The meeting lasts two and a half hours.
She knows this because she tracks the sounds of it. The movement of chairs, the low exchange of voices that rises and flattens, the particular quality of Ethan's laugh when he is performing confidence for someone he needs something from. She has built a map of his sounds over seven years. It is how she navigates a house that does not belong to her.
She is drying dishes when she hears the shift in the hallway that means the meeting is wrapping up.
"We finalize terms next week," Ethan is saying. That particular brightness in his voice means he thinks it went well.
"There is one more thing I want to discuss," Cade says.
A pause. Shorter than it sounds. "My study?"
"Here is fine."
She cannot see them from where she stands. She keeps her hands busy.
"Your sister," Cade says.
The pause that follows is a different texture from the ones before it.
"What about her?" Ethan says.
"She lives here with you?"
"She does."
"She works here?"
"She helps out. She does not have anywhere else to go." The shrug is audible.
"She is your blood," Cade says.
"I am aware of that."
"I ask because I have a position available in my territory. A house management role. Paid. Contracted. Her own accommodation. I would like to extend the offer to her."
The silence that follows is the longest she has heard in this house. She grips the edge of the sink and does not move.
"Cara is not available," Ethan says.
"She is a grown woman."
"She is my family."
"You just said she had nowhere else to go." A pause. "Those two things do not sit together well."
She hears the shift of Ethan's weight. She knows exactly how his jaw tightens when someone corners him in logic. "This is not part of what we discussed."
"It is now. You want the agreement, you let her decide for herself. If she says no, we move on. But the decision is hers."
"She does not need to decide anything."
"Is that right."
Not a question. The flat certainty of it does something to the air in the room. She stands with her hands in the drying cloth and breathes.
She is twenty-three years old. She has not made a single decision about her own life since she was ten years old.
She sets the cloth down. She steps out of the kitchen.
Both men look at her. Ethan's eyes go narrow and careful. Cade's stay exactly as they are, steady, like he is not surprised at all that she is standing there.
"I would like to hear the offer," she says.
Her voice comes out steadier than she expected.
Ethan opens his mouth. Closes it.
"A house management position," Cade says. "My territory runs on a schedule. I travel regularly. I need someone I can trust to manage the household staff, maintain order, and handle correspondence while I am away. Fixed salary. Accommodation included. Six-month review. You are under no obligation to accept."
"She cannot just leave," Ethan says, and his voice has dropped into the register she knows means he is working hard to stay controlled. "She has responsibilities here."
"What responsibilities?" Cade asks.
Ethan looks at her. That look. The one that has kept her exactly here for seven years.
She breathes in.
"I will take the position," she says.
The words leave her before she has fully committed to them, and once they are out she finds she does not want them back.
Ethan's expression goes completely flat.
Cade nods once. "I will have the paperwork ready by tomorrow morning."
He says goodnight to Ethan, who does not respond. He glances at Cara once more as he moves toward the front door. There is nothing warm in his expression. Nothing that promises anything. Just the same steadiness.
She stands in the hallway for a long time after the car leaves.
Ethan walks past her without speaking. She hears his study door close. Then the lock.
She goes to her room and sits on the edge of her narrow bed and tries to understand what she has just done.
She has a feeling the night is not finished with her.
She is right.
She is folding her hair back when the door opens. Ethan does not knock. He has never knocked.
He does not shout. He is more dangerous when he does not shout.
"You think that man is going to rescue you," he says.
"I did not say that."
"You embarrassed me in my own house."
"I answered a question."
"In front of a pack leader I need on my side." He walks further into the room and she makes herself stay still. "You do not know who he is. You do not know what he wants from you."
"Maybe I will find out."
He stares at her for a long moment. The look shifts into something older and colder. "You know what you cost this family. You know what you took from me." His voice is flat. Quiet. The dangerous kind. "And you think you deserve something better than what I have given you."
She does not answer.
He walks out.
She sits in the dark with his words and waits for the feeling to pass.
It does, eventually.
And then, very carefully, she starts to think about what she would pack.
- Writer
