Chapter 33 Chapter 33
“I settled a debt, Tessa,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. “I removed an immediate threat. And you belong to me, regardless of who is alive or dead. That is the only truth that matters.” He let go of me. I stumbled back, rubbing my chin.
“Your foolishness is reckless, not brave,” he said, walking back toward the window wall. “Ryan is useless. He is terrified. Alex is a ghost now. I will find him. You won’t leave this tower again until I say you can.”
“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” I yelled.
He stopped moving. The air in the room went completely silent, heavy with his displeasure. “You actually hit Zaiel Rhyland’s fiancée,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, making the hair on my arms stand up. The way he used Zaiel's full name was meant to show me he knew everything that was happening with me and around me.
“Yeah. And Hannah. You want to keep me safe? Fine. But you keep them away from me. Tell them I’m the plague. Tell them anything. I’m not part of their high-society bullshit, and I’m not their punching bag.”
His dark outline shifted again, facing me. “You fight well,” he said, the tone clinical and unnerving. “But that behavior ends now. You are confined. You will not interact with him or his family outside of your duties to Christine. You will not leave. And you will not cause any further scenes.”
“You think a couple of deadbolt locks are going to stop Alex?” I challenged. “You’re the one who taught him that a woman can’t be locked up if you’re determined enough.”
“This building is not your house in Irvington,” he snapped. “It is the most secure residential tower in the city. You are safe here. But your safety relies on your obedience. Understand?” I stayed silent.
He reached into his pocket; I heard the faint click of a phone and then looked up. “I will make arrangements for a new identity, a completely new trail. But until then, you will play the role I need you to play. You will go up and see Christine tomorrow. You will be polite. You will stay in this apartment and wait.”
I finally found my voice. “I need a job.”
“Rhyland paid you; is that not enough?” he asked, annoyance heavy in his voice. “I didn’t say I need money; I said I need a job. There’s a difference,” I shot back. “I need to work. I need something that’s mine. You don’t get to buy my every breath.” He considered this for a long moment. “Fine,” he conceded, the word dragged out. “The job is for Anthony and Christine. You already have access. That is your only acceptable purpose outside these walls. Nothing more.”
“And the yellow roses?” I demanded. “What about them?” “I already dealt with them,” he said dismissively. “They won’t reach you again. Now. Go to sleep. I will communicate with you only via the phone from now on. Do not attempt to leave.” He walked toward the door. Just before his hand reached the knob, he paused, his silhouette perfectly framed. “And Tessa?” I tensed up, waiting for the final word. “Next time you feel the need to express your anger, take it out on the punching bag I’m having installed in the spare room. Not on Zaiel Rhyland’s sister.”
Then he was gone. The door clicked shut, the locks engaged, the lights came back on, and the silence returned. He had control of everything: the money, the murder, the tower, and my life. I walked over to the kitchen, grabbing water, trying to wash away the fear. The phone on the couch vibrated. Kia.
KIA: Take a shower and get some rest. I want you rested for tomorrow.
I walked into the massive bathroom. My reflection was a mess. Black hair, red eyes, and a look of cold fury. He wanted obedience? He was going to get defiance.
When I walked back into the living room, the flower was on the coffee table next to the phone.A single, perfect white orchid.
My gut twisted. Alex was yellow roses. Kai was the dark shadow and the growl. But this? The orchid felt too soft, too pure. It was another layer of manipulation, another persona. I picked up the phone.
TESSA: What is the orchid for?
The reply was instantaneous.
KIA: It’s your welcome home. Don’t question my gifts, Beauty. Just accept them.
I slammed the phone back onto the couch. Welcome home. I was trapped by a powerful psycho running three different sick games, and I had to figure out how to escape all of them. I sat there staring at the stupid orchid like it was some kind of bomb. All white and delicate and peaceful. It looked so out of place in the middle of my stress-infested apartment that I actually laughed. Not a cute laugh, no, one of those sharp, “I’m losing it” kinds that don’t sound like they belong to an emotionally stable person.Welcome home.
Yeah. Great. Fantastic. Amazing. Nothing said “home” like a building I wasn’t allowed to leave, a stalker who wasn’t dead, and a man who wouldn’t let me breathe without instructions. I dropped onto the couch and stared at the TV even though it wasn’t on. My brain was running a mile a minute. Alex is alive. Kai was furious. Jax and Rob were doing whatever the hell they were told. A whole asshole upstairs whose family and fiancé think I am sleeping my way to the top. And me? I was dead tired. I felt it in my bones. The phone buzzed again. I didn’t even look at it. I just flipped it over, screen down.
I wasn’t hungry, but I forced myself to take a few bites of the noodles. My stomach did that tight, anxious twist it always did when I tried to eat under stress. I pushed the container away after a minute and sighed. I needed sleep, but I knew I wouldn’t get any.
The next morning came too early. I barely remembered falling asleep. All I knew was that at some point, I woke up with my hoodie still on, curled to the side like I was trying to hold myself together. The orchid was still there. Mocking me. I showered quickly, tied my hair back, threw on jeans and a dark shirt, and tried to look like the version of myself who worked for Christine instead of the version who ran from two different monsters. I left the apartment, and of course, Jax and Rob were already standing there like well-trained shadows.
“Morning,” I muttered.
“Morning,” Rob replied.
I didn’t wait for them. I walked toward the elevator, ignoring the little twist in my stomach. The silence inside the elevator was thick, tense, and heavy. I didn’t bother breaking it. When the doors opened on the floor, I actually paused. It still felt weird being back here. Familiar and foreign at the same time. Christine’s apartment door opened before I even knocked.