The Devil's Bargain
The hush of the hallway, once a welcome respite from the maelstrom of the ballroom, was now oppressive, punctured only by the thudding beat of Elara's own heart. Julian Thorne's words, cold and razor-cut, still lingered in the air: You're going to design my future. Starting tonight. She sighed and hated it, the silver light of the high window etching his hard face into stark relief, making him less man and more something chiselled out of shadow and ice.
Work for you? Elara finally managed, her whisper rough and full of incredulity and a tremble of rebellion. After what we just endured? After my career, reputation, and life were sent into the gutter? Her gaze narrowed. And what debt are you talking of? I owe you nothing!
A brief, almost unperceptible smile softened Julian's lips, a hard, nasty curve that did nothing to soften his daunting presence. Everyone has a price, Ms. Vance. Yours became amazingly low tonight. He produced a shiny tablet from an inner jacket pocket, the screen lighting up with familiar brands. Your company, Vance & Co., is now officially in bankruptcy. Your assets are frozen personally. Your professional license will be taken away by morning. And your godfather, Arthur Sterling, has issued a public declaration condemning your 'unforgivable betrayal of trust' and promising full cooperation with the authorities.
Each sentence was a blow from a hammer, driving Elara further into the depths of her downfall. Arthur. The betrayal was complete.
He framed me, she exclaimed, the truth burning its way through her. He set me up.
Julian's gaze was unyielding. Perhaps. Or perhaps you merely made a handful of very powerful enemies. Either way, your options are precisely zero. Unless, of course, you take my proposal. He indicated vaguely down towards the grand ballroom. Stay out there, and you're finished. You're a pariah. You'll spend decades trying to scrub an untainted name that nobody will ever accept. Join me, and I offer a solution.
What kind of alternative? Elara laughed, but a desperate glimmer of hope, against all logic, sparked within her. Anything was better than raw nothingness.
A safeguard, Julian spoke straightforwardly, his eyes narrowing. Assets. A chance to begin anew, on my terms. I have a project. A significant one. It requires a single-minded vision, a single-minded mind. Your mind, Elara. He halted, moving closer with one additional step until the scent of his expensive perfume, fresh and clean, entered her nose. You will be forever banished from this world if you lose. You will potentially regain a portion of what has been lost to you, or perhaps even something better.
Before Elara could so much as move, a distant alarm wailed from within the structure, followed by muted screams of security. Julian's eyes flashed in the direction of the commotion, his jaw tightening almost agonisingly. Your friends are very industrious, it seems, he growled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Getting your decision made now, Ms. Vance.
He didn't leave her any options. In a swift, authoritative motion, he took her arm, his grip surprisingly tight, and pulled her toward an unobtrusive service elevator. Elara stumbled, caught off guard, her head reeling. Rescued, or merely taken otherwise? The elevator doors rolled open, revealing a sleek, understated interior, and Julian faced her, his dark eyes claiming hers.
Choose, Elara, he growled, his voice cold and menacing. Ruin or eternal servitude to me.