Chapter 9: Two Weeks and Two Poisons.

The drive home was silent.

Brad smelled heavily of whiskey and the women's perfume. The mix made me nauseous. I turned my face toward the window for fresher air, breathing in deeply.

When we got back inside the house, the silence thickened. Brad set his keys down on the counter with precise care.

Then he turned to me, his charm all gone. I braced myself.

“You made me look bad tonight,” he started, his eyes dark.

I took a step back, the act now a force of habit.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.” His voice was low and smooth. “You sat there looking like a ghost. People noticed. They asked if something was wrong with you. That's what you wanted, right?”

I blinked. A wave of heat crawled up my chest. Stubbornness rose from somewhere I thought I'd locked up before I could stop myself.

“Couldn't it be because you were flirt-”

The word never made it out completely. His hand struck fast.

My head whipped sideways. I smelled the blood before tasting it.

The sound rang in my ear. My skin burned. I should have known better than to spook a half-drunk Brad.

He leaned closer, his voice lowering, dangerous in its quietness.

“You don’t speak to me like that. You don’t look at me like that.”

“I'm sorry. Please… please, don't hurt me.” I mumbled through the sting of the blow.

My breath trembled. He caught my chin, forcing my face up, until I couldn't look anywhere but into his eyes. I could never get used to the way they changed whenever he raged.

My eyes watered.

“You belong to me, Elena.” His breath was hot on my face. “Every word, every breath, every damn thought. Never talk smart to me. You live because I allow it. Don’t forget that.”

He shoved me roughly. I stumbled, catching myself against the wall before releasing the breath I'd been holding.

I looked up to see him already walking away, loosening his tie.

Somehow, I was thankful it was only a slap. It could have been worse.

I cursed the demon that possessed me to do something so foolish and risky when I was so close to getting out of here forever.

“Clean yourself up,” he muttered. “You look pathetic.”

Then he disappeared up the stairs, shutting the door loudly behind him.

I crawled up to a couch, folded into myself. My hand rested on my belly as if the touch could reassure me that my baby was still safe.

Two weeks.

~~~~~

Third Person POV

The following day, Elena stood at the kitchen sink, staring through the window while she listened for the sound of Brad's car leaving.

Across the street, a man in a faded T-shirt trimmed the hedges in front of a vacant house with a For Sale sign, happily waving at a passerby.

She hurried upstairs the moment she was sure Brad was gone.

Meanwhile, the man’s trimming stopped.

He glanced once toward Brad's houses, eyes narrowing just slightly before he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“He just left. She’s home alone,” he said quietly.

“Keep an eye on her until tonight,” a cold voice rasped over the phone. “Do not lose her.”

“I won't,” he replied.

Then he pocketed the phone and continued trimming the hedges.

Upstairs, Elena didn’t know it yet, a new danger already found her in her home. And it was waiting for the right time to make its next move, one that would change her life drastically.

~~~~~

ARY

Ary Banks lounged on his ottoman with a book open in one hand and an untouched glass of white wine beside him.

When his phone buzzed, he lowered the book slowly, his eyes narrowing as the message expanded on the screen.

“Unauthorized access attempt.

Location: Internal Server. Priority: Critical.”

“Someone is persistent,” he murmured. Then he placed a finger between the pages of his book marking the spot before setting it aside.

He rose and made his way towards his home office.

With a single tap, the system woke up, and the screens bloomed to life.

Streams of monochrome code were displayed across his screen as his laptop synced automatically to the fortified wall system, the room vibrating with a low hum.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Let's see who you are.”

With a swish of his wrist, he pulled up the encrypted terminal, sat down, and began typing with precision.

After about two minutes, a subtle smirk formed in the corner of his mouth.

He reached for his phone and dialed.

“Justin,” he said when his friend picked up. His voice was low, controlled. “We got the third breach attempt. And I nabbed our perp.”

A rustle came from the other end, then Justin's groggy voice. “You've got to be kidding me. It’s two in the morning, Ary. Normal people are asleep.”

“Normal people get hacked,” Ary said, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Are they one of ours?” Justin asked.

“No. It's Keystone. But one of ours was their way in.”

His fingers glided over the keyboard. “He masked his work under multiple dead IPs.”

“Damn,” Justin, “Want me to head over to the office?”

“No. Stay put. We'll get him when he clocks in by morning.” His tone remained calm.

“Got it.”

Justin paused.

“Wait, Ary, if this could be handled in the morning, why'd you wake me up?”

“You are the president of the company. Who else would I call?”

“And you are the Chairman.” Justin shot back lightly. “And you pay an entire tech team a lot of money to handle stuff like this. Yet-”

“Yet I was the one who caught it first,” Ary cut in. “Good thing I don't trust them, huh?”

That shut Justin up for a moment. “Well you can finally let yourself get a good night’s sleep.” he sighed.

Ary leaned back in his seat. “Mm-hm.”

“And a life,” Justin added.

Ary scoffed and leaned back, his gaze still locked on the shifting code. “Hey Justin?”

“Yeah?”

“Double the encryption key intervals on your end. I don't want anyone slipping through while I clean up here.”

“You got it,” Justin said. Then, softer, “Get some rest soon, okay? You're not a machine.”

Ary's lips curved faintly with a ghost of a smile. “I busted your beauty sleep, I got it.”

He ended the call.

Outside, lightning rippled across the sky. Ary’s reflection stared back at him from the glass.

Exactly the way he loved himself: solitary, watchful, untouchable.

Being a billionaire was not an excuse to slack. If he learned anything from his line of business, it was that trust was one luxury he could not afford.

One mistake and one's entire empire would be brought to ruin.

So trust was a no.

Trust and love.

Two poisons for a man like him.