Bound To The Storm

‎Liora ‎ ‎They say storms are only temporary. But the lives they cross never remain the same. You either perish or grow so inured that even the mighty storm grows enamored of you. ‎ ‎I let out a long sigh and turned into our front yard. Another day of job hunting had gone to waste. My last workplace shut down after the owners went bankrupt, and every new place wanted at least a year of experience. How was I supposed to get experience if no one gave me the chance? ‎ ‎My parents ran a small bakery. After Dad’s accident at the factory, he could no longer work as a mechanical engineer, so they poured everything into the shop. It was not enough. I needed a job that could actually support them. ‎ ‎My foot slammed the brake. ‎ ‎A black limousine sat in our driveway as if it belonged there. ‎ ‎I furrowed my brows and racked my brain for any relative who rode in limos. None. Curiosity clawed at my stomach. I parked on the side of the road, ignoring the aged neighbor's protests, and hurried inside. I tiptoed to the drawing-room doorway and peeked around the frame. ‎ ‎A man in a white suit occupied the head sofa. Grey roots showed at his temples and in his beard. Authority rolled off him in waves. ‎ ‎“Let’s cut to the chase, Joseph. I want your daughter as my daughter-in-law.” ‎ ‎The silence that followed could have swallowed the whole house. ‎ ‎Dad’s mouth opened and closed. Mum’s hand flew to her chest. My own jaw dropped so wide as a whale, and its entire family could have swum through without touching the sides. ‎ ‎Mr Marcus Voss, billionaire. Dad’s former boss. The man whose name appeared on half the skyline of New York. ‎ ‎He wanted me for his son Cassian Voss. ‎ ‎The most eligible, the most ruthless, and the most dangerous bachelor in the city. ‎ ‎Why me? He could have any princess he wanted. ‎ ‎Marcus gave a short laugh at their expressions. “No need for that look, Joseph. I want a fair, decent girl, not one of those gold-diggers my son keeps dating.” ‎ ‎Dad started to protest. “B-but sir, your son—he doesn’t exactly have a good reput—” Mum’s sharp elbow cut him off. ‎ ‎Marcus’s smile never reached his eyes. “We’ve been acquaintances for a long time, Josephine. Won’t you grant an old man’s wish?” ‎ ‎I stepped into the room before I could stop myself. Every head turned. ‎ ‎“I appreciate the proposal, Mr. Voss, but I need time.” ‎ ‎He rose smoothly and controlled. Power radiated from him like heat. “You have a beautiful daughter, Joseph, and an intelligent one too. I hope you’ll make the right decision, darling.” ‎ ‎Then he was gone. The limousine glided away as if it had never been there. ‎ ‎I looked at my parents. Twin hesitant frowns sat heavy on their foreheads. ‎ ‎What if I said no? ‎I got my answer three days later. ‎ ‎Dad left to buy groceries on foot because the shop was close and he refused to risk his freshly polished car. I waved him off from the porch, then turned to go inside. Alarming barks stopped me. A bulky man in black stood on the street staring at the neighbor's dog until it cowered and fled. He pulled something from his jacket. Sunlight flashed off the metal. My heart nearly punched through my ribs. ‎ ‎I sprinted after Dad without thinking. ‎ ‎"Ember—Liora, where are you going?” he asked when I reached him, breathless. ‎ ‎“I just remembered I needed a few things too.” I glanced back. The man had vanished. Relief loosened my chest only for a moment. ‎ ‎We returned laughing at Dad’s terrible jokes. The laughter died the second we stepped inside. Mum stood with the phone pressed to her ear, a deep crease between her brows. ‎ ‎“What’s wrong, Elena?” Dad set the bags down. ‎ ‎“I just got an email from the IRS. They say we have three years of unpaid bills.” ‎ ‎“What? We paid everything.” ‎ ‎My pulse, which had finally slowed, kicked up again. First the stranger, now this. ‎ ‎“Maybe someone is pranking us,” I offered weakly. ‎ ‎Dad nodded, but the worry stayed in his eyes. “Jobless morons with nothing better to do.” ‎ ‎“Daniel. Language.” ‎ ‎He kissed her cheek, and the crease softened. Their easy affection always made something warm twist in my chest. I had always wanted a marriage like theirs. The thought of Cassian Voss made that hope feel distant and foolish. ‎ ‎Two days later, I sat in the public library filling out applications. A sudden discomfort in my stomach made me glance up. The same bulky man in black sat on the bench directly opposite me. I shot to my feet, ready to run. ‎ ‎“Sit,” he ordered. ‎ ‎“What do you want?” ‎ ‎He slid a black envelope across the table and stood. "Mr. Voss says hello.” ‎ ‎I unfolded the paper with shaking fingers. A negative character reference letter. The kind that would close every door before I even knocked. ‎ ‎“What the hell? He can’t do that.” ‎ ‎The bench was already empty. ‎ ‎The same things kept happening. The man followed my parents more often. The fake bills kept arriving. Every application I sent came back refused. The permanent lines of worry on Mum and Dad’s faces grew deeper every night. I stopped sleeping properly, terrified the dangerous-looking man would finally do something irreversible. ‎ ‎So at last I made a decision. ‎I walked into the bakery just after closing. Flour still dusted Mum’s apron. Dad was wiping down the counter. ‎ ‎“I’ll marry him,” I said. ‎ ‎Both of them froze. ‎ ‎Mum’s voice came out small. "Liora, you don’t have to—” ‎ ‎"Yes, I do.” I met their eyes and refused to look away. “Whatever game Marcus Voss is playing, it’s already hurting you. I won’t let it go further.” ‎ ‎Dad opened his mouth and then closed it again. The fight drained out of him. He simply nodded once, his shoulders heavy. ‎That night I stood in my small bedroom staring at the dark window. Somewhere across the city, Cassian Voss existed cold and dangerous and completely unaware that in a few days I would become his wife. ‎ ‎A soft knock sounded at my door. ‎ ‎I turned. ‎ ‎Mum stood there, eyes red. She held out a folded piece of paper. “This had come through the mail slot just now. No stamp. No return address.” ‎ ‎I took it. The handwriting was sharp and unfamiliar. ‎ ‎Open it, Liora. Or the next time the man in black visits your parents, he won’t leave a letter. ‎ ‎My fingers tightened until the paper crumpled. ‎I opened the door wider and looked past Mum into the quiet hallway of the only home I had ever known. ‎ ‎The hallway was empty. ‎ ‎But the front door stood slightly ajar even though I had locked it myself an hour ago.