Chapter 2: The New Residency
632 Words
The sleek, midnight-blue SUV glided through the gates of the most exclusive residential tower in Victoria Island. I sat in the back seat, my fingers tracing the cold leather of the door handle. In my hand was the folder—my father's freedom, and my own cage.
Jace hadn't spoken since I signed the papers. She was already back on her phone, her thumb flicking through emails with the same rhythmic precision she used to dismantle lives. She didn't look like a woman who had just "bought" a human being; she looked like a woman who had just closed a minor trade.
"We aren't going to the office?" I asked, my voice small in the hushed interior of the car.
"You aren't ready for the office," Jace replied, not looking up. "You smell like panic and old perfume, Elena. And your posture is that of a victim. I don't employ victims."
The car stopped. The chauffeur opened my door, but Jace was already out, walking toward the private elevator with a stride that demanded the world move out of her way. I hurried after her, my heels clicking frantically against the marble floor of the lobby.
The elevator climbed in silence until the doors slid open directly into a penthouse that looked more like a gallery of glass and steel than a home. It was cold, minimalist, and overlooked the Atlantic Ocean with an indifferent beauty.
"This is your new residency," Jace said, tossing her keys onto a marble console. She turned to face me, her eyes sweeping over my rumpled dress. "From this moment forward, the 'Princess' is dead. You are a trainee. And in this house, my word is the only law that exists."
She walked toward a hallway and gestured for me to follow. She stopped at a door and pushed it open. It was a bedroom—stark, white, and organized with military precision. On the bed was a stack of dark boxes.
"Your old wardrobe is being donated to charity as we speak," Jace said, her tone flat. "I’ve had my personal shoppers provide you with a new one. It consists of three colors: black, white, and charcoal. You will wear what I approve. You will eat what I prescribe. And you will sleep when I allow it."
I looked at the boxes, a lump forming in my throat. "You’re stripping away everything."
"I am stripping away the distractions," Jace corrected. She stepped into my space, her presence suddenly overwhelming. She reached out and flicked the silver Vance crest on my necklace. "Rule Number One: You do not speak unless you are answering a question. Rule Number Two: When I enter a room, you stand. Rule Number Three: You will be at my door at 5:00 AM every morning, dressed and ready for the day's briefing."
She leaned down, her face inches from mine. "If you break a rule, the penalty will be added to your father’s debt. If you follow them... you might just survive me. Do you have any questions, Associate?"
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Where do I start?"
A dark, satisfied glint appeared in Jace’s eyes. "Strip. Get in the shower. Wash the 'Vance' off your skin. I’ll be back in twenty minutes to inspect your first uniform. Don't be late, Elena. I have very little patience for tardiness."
She turned and walked out, leaving me standing in the middle of my new cage. I looked at the dark boxes on the bed. My life as I knew it was over, but as I reached for the first lid, a strange, terrifying spark of electricity shot through my chest.
I was under her command now. And for some reason, the fear was starting to feel a lot like anticipation.
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