Chapter3: Bars And Bloodlines
1310 Words
The lights of the New York Detention Complex shone on Ivy as she sat on the edge of the bolted cell, her silk dress now rumpled and stained a painful reminder of the life she had been snatched from only hours ago. Her wrists felt hurt where the steel cuffs had bitten into her skin.
"Mondragon. You have a visitor," the guard said, his voice echoing off the prison walls.
Ivy stood, her spine straight despite her exhaustion. She expected the lead detective or perhaps Mr. Sterling. Instead, she was led to a plexiglass partition where Walker Jordan sat, looking entirely too composed for a man visiting a murder suspect in the middle of the night.
He hadn't even loosened his silk tie.
"You look terrible, Ivy," he said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm through the intercom.
"And you look like a man who just got exactly what he wanted," Ivy retorted,
her eyes flashing with a defiance that made Walker’s gaze darken. "The police think I poisoned Marga. They found the toxin in my jewelry box, Walker. A box only my family has access to.
"Kristoff is clumsy, but he’s smart,
Walker said, leaning forward. The intensity in his eyes was suffocating, even through the glass. "He did not just frame you for the murder; he’s currently liquidating your shares under a 'hardship' clause while you’re incapacitated. By tomorrow morning, the Mondragon empire will be a hollow shell, and you’ll be heading to Rikers to await a trial you won’t survive.
He slid a single piece of paper against the glass. It was the marriage contract, the ink from her dropped pen still a jagged blotch on the bottom.
"Sign it, Ivy. My lawyers are standing by and active. You’ll be out of here in twenty minutes. You’ll be under my roof, under my name, and untouchable.
"I’d rather rot in this cell than be your property," she hissed.
Walker leaned back, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Property? No I want a partner who is smart enough to survive. But if you want to be stubborn, remember this”
I am the only person standing between you and the people Kristoff hired to make sure you never make it to your first hearing."
"Get out," Ivy said.
Walker stood up, adjusted his cuffs, and looked at her with a chilling mixture of admiration and pity. "The offer stands until the lights go out, Ivy. After that, you’re on your own."
The "lights out" signal came an hour later. The facility fell into a heavy, artificial darkness, punctuated only by the distant clanging of doors and the horrible screams of inmates.
Ivy lay awake, her ears ringing with every footstep in the corridor. She was a Mondragon she wouldn't break. She had survived an orphanage she could survive this.
Suddenly, the electronic hum of her cell door changed pitch. The heavy steel slid open with a soft hiss.
Ivy sat up, her heart racing
"Guard”
There was no response. A shadow slipped into the room a tall, lean figure wearing a corrections uniform, but the gait was wrong. The man moved with a twitchy energy that Ivy recognized from the descriptions she’d heard.
"Jordi?" she breathed, her voice trembling.
Her nephew, the boy Marga had tried so hard to save from kristoff’s influence, he stepped into her cell room, his eyes were bloodshot, dancing with a chemical mania. In his hand, he held a sharpened piece of rebar.
"Auntie Ivy," Jordi whispered, a jagged, terrifying sound. "Dad said you were greedy. Said you stole our inheritance.
He said if I make you go away, the voices will stop.
"Jordi, listen to me, Ivy said, backing toward the corner of the cell. "Your father is using you. He killed your mother, Jordi. He’s going to kill you too once he has the money."
"Liar!" Jordi lunged.
The metal knife whistled through the air, narrowly missing Ivy’s shoulder as she dove onto the floor. She scrambled toward the door, but it had been remotely locked again. She was trapped in cell room with an upcoming serial killer
Jordi spun around, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He raised the weapon again, but before he could strike, the heavy air in the cell was shattered by a deafening crack.
A flashbang went off in the corridor, followed by the sound of heavy boots. The cell door was kicked open with such force it hit the wall with a thunderous boom.
Two men in black tactical gear swarmed in, pinning Jordi to the floor before he could even scream. Behind them, stepping through the smoke like a dark god of vengeance, was Walker Jordan.
He didn't look at the struggle on the floor. He walked straight to Ivy, who was shaking uncontrollably in the corner. He reached down, his large hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her up and hugging her
"I told you," he murmured into her hair, his heart beating steady and rhythmic.
"You are not safe without me."
Ivy looked down at Jordi, who was being dragged out, snarling like an animal. "How did you get in here? This is a federal facility!
"I own the company that handles the security software for this wing," Walker said simply. He pulled the crumpled marriage contract from his inner pocket and a pen. "The cameras are looped for the next three minutes. Sign it, Ivy. Or I walk out that door and let the next one through. And believe me, Kristoff has plenty more where he came from."
Ivy looked at the paper, then at the man holding her. His grip was firm, possessive, and yet, in the chaos, it was the only solid thing in her universe. She could feel the power emanating from him an obsession that felt like a shield.
She took the pen. With a hand that finally stopped shaking, she wrote her name across the line.
"There," she spat, tossing the pen at his feet. "You own me. Are you happy now
Walker tucked the paper away, his eyes glowing with a dark, triumphant fire. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over hers in a kiss that tasted of iron and promise. "I don't want to own you, Ivy. I want to consume you. Now, let's go home.
The ride back to the penthouse was silent, but the tension was different now. It was a coiled spring, vibrating with a new, dangerous intimacy.
When they arrived at the penthouse
Walker led her not to the guest room, but to the master suite. He turned to her, his fingers reaching for the zipper of her ruined dress.
"What are you doing”she whispered, her breath shaking
"You’re covered in the scent of that place," he said, his voice dropping low,
"I’m going to wash it off you. And then, we’re going to discuss exactly what it means to be a Walker."
He turned her around, his touch burning through the silk. But as the dress began to slide down her shoulders, Ivy’s eyes caught something on the mirror.
Scrawled in red lipstick—her own lipstick and it was a single sentence:
THE PROTECTOR IS THE POISONER.
Ivy froze. She looked at Walker through the reflection. He was staring at the message, his expression unreadable.
"Walker," she whispered, her heart stopping for the second time that night. "What did you do to my mother?
Before he could answer, a heavy thud sounded from the balcony. A black figure crashed through the glass, and the lights in the penthouse went into total darkness.
In the shadows, Ivy felt a hand over her mouth but it wasn't Walker’s.
"Don't make a sound, Ivy," a voice hissed in her ear. It was Milliano. "If you want to know the truth about the will, you have to run.
Now"
- Writer
