Chapter Six - Gentle Pressure
993 Words
The warmth of the tea had dulled in her hands.
Evelyn sat at the far end of the table, the noise of the kitchen washing over her like waves she couldn’t step into. She didn’t know how to join in. She wasn’t used to laughter that wasn’t laced with venom. Every voice, every joke, felt like it was meant for someone else. Not her.
She kept her eyes on the mug. Quiet. Small.
Then the air shifted.
She didn’t hear boots, didn’t see movement—she just felt it.
A presence.
Power.
Her breath caught before she even looked up.
Ronan.
He stood in the archway, calm, unreadable. Not looming. Not scowling. Just watching her.
And for some reason, the moment their eyes met, her whole body tensed—not from fear… but something else.
The women noticed.
Remy gave him a small nod, and with a silent, practiced ease, the rest of them slipped out—one grabbing a coffee, another pretending to need something from the hallway. Within seconds, the kitchen emptied, and she was alone with him.
Evelyn didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Ronan crossed the room slowly, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down.
Not too close.
Just close enough.
“You settle in okay?” he asked, his voice lower than she remembered. Smooth. Controlled.
She nodded, eyes fixed on the mug again.
“Clothes fit?”
Another nod.
“You eat anything?”
Her throat worked. She forced herself to speak, voice soft but steady. “Some toast.”
He leaned back in his chair, arms folding across his chest. He didn’t press. Just… watched her. Like he was trying to piece something together.
“You don’t talk much,” he said gently.
“I’m not supposed to.”
That made his jaw tighten for half a second before he caught it. “Says who?”
She hesitated. Then, almost ashamed: “My father.”
Ronan exhaled through his nose. Sat with that. He didn’t rush to fill the silence. Didn’t try to reassure her with empty words.
“Do you know why you’re still alive?” he asked.
Her gaze shot up, startled—but he didn’t sound threatening.
Just honest.
“No,” she whispered.
“Because the second I looked at you…” His eyes held hers. Unflinching. “I saw a girl who didn’t choose this. A girl no one protected.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
“I don’t hurt women, Evelyn. I don’t believe in scaring people into silence. And I sure as hell don’t let anyone bleed in my house unless they deserve it.”
She swallowed hard.
“You’re safe here,” he said. “Not because I kidn*pped you. Not because I’m trying to make a statement. But because I decided—you don’t belong to him anymore.”
A tremble ran through her chest.
“You belong to yourself.”
He stood slowly, the chair scraping back. She expected him to walk away.
But instead, he leaned in just enough to place a folded napkin on the table in front of her.
On it was a single word, written in pen:
“Speak.”
Then he was gone.
And Evelyn sat there, heart pounding, staring at the first invitation she’d ever been given in her life.
Ronan pushed open the door to his office and stepped inside, the quiet hitting him like a wall. It wasn’t chaos out there—but it wasn’t stillness like this.
Only here could he think clearly. Plan. Control the storm before it hit.
Maddox was already inside, leaning over the desk, going through updates from their border scouts. He looked up the second Ronan entered, and from the way his brother-in-arms straightened, he knew something had shifted.
“She okay?” Maddox asked.
Ronan shut the door behind him and crossed the room with purpose.
“She will be.”
He dropped into his chair and looked up, tone firm now. “I want a room set up for her. Tonight.”
Maddox blinked. “You’re moving her out of the guest room?”
“She’s not a guest,” Ronan said. “She’s ours now.”
The weight of his words sank into the room like thunder.
“Reed’s never coming for her,” Ronan added. “He’s made that clear. She doesn’t have anyone—no voice, no defense. But she’s here now. And I don’t take in strays. I take in people worth keeping.”
Maddox nodded, no hesitation.
“I’ll handle it,” he said. “We’ll move her closer to the front wing. Next to the other women.”
Ronan nodded. “Good.”
Maddox paused. “You want Remy to stay close to her? Talk her through things?”
Ronan met his gaze. “Yeah. That girl’s been living in fear her whole damn life. Remy’s strong. Steady. Maybe if she sees a woman at the top of this place who doesn’t take s**t from anyone…”
“She’ll believe she can be one, too,” Maddox finished.
“Exactly.”
For a long beat, neither of them spoke.
Then Ronan leaned back in his chair, voice low but sure. “She deserves a life. One she was never going to get with that bastard. And we’re going to give it to her.”
Maddox smirked. “You getting soft on me, brother?”
Ronan’s eyes darkened, but the edge of his mouth curved.
“I’m not soft. I’m just done watching good people get stepped on.”
He paused.
“And she’s not just good. She’s something else.”
Maddox clapped a hand on the desk. “Then we make her ours. The Vultures look after their own.”
Ronan nodded.
And just like that, a decision was made.
A new line drawn in the sand.
Evelyn Graves wasn’t just a kidn*pped daughter anymore.
She was Vultures’ blood now.
- Writer
