Chapter 4:

ORION

She was even more ethereal in person.

The thought crossed Orion’s mind the moment he saw her.

He could have sent one of his men. It would have been faster and easier. But he knew better. Vera wouldn’t follow a stranger, not after everything she’d survived.

And yet, here she was.

“Where are we going?” she asked softly.

They sat in the backseat of his car. Orion watched her from the corner of his eye. She was coiled tight, flinching at every shift of his weight, one hand tucked beneath her thigh like she needed to anchor herself.

He didn’t like that.

“To eat,” he said. “I told you earlier.”

“Yes. But why?”

“Why do people eat, Vera? Because they are hungry?”

She rolled her eyes, he smirked.

“I mean—“ she let out a soft, tired huff. Her eyes were red, swollen from tears or lack of sleep. She looked thinner than the photos he had seen—perhaps from years of modeling. 

“You still haven’t told me who you are. And now you’re taking me to eat. Should I be worried? Are you going to kill me and bury my body somewhere?”

Orion smirked. “You don’t sound scared for someone who thinks she’s about to die.”

She shrugged, glancing at the rearview mirror. Dark, guarded eyes stared back at him, eyes that spoke of pain and exhaustion, but also suspicion.

“I’ll tell you everything when we eat,” he said. “You look like you could disappear with the wrong wind.”

He meant it as a joke, a light jab to break the tension, but Vera wasn’t listening. Her gaze remained fixed out the window, distant, and wandering.

Landon pulled the car in front of a fast food restaurant. Orion could have taken her to one of his luxury spots, but he didn’t want to intimidate her. Vera looked fragile and tense, like she was seconds away from bolting.

Once they stopped, Orion retrieved a jacket from the booth and a pair of flats.

Vera stood beside the car, shoulders stiff, arms wrapped around herself, eyes darting nervously across the street. She flinched when Orion gently draped the oversized jacket over her shoulders. It fell mid-thigh, warm and heavy against her frame.

“For the cold,” he said simply.

Then he knelt in front of her, lifting her wounded legs into his hands. Bruises and scrapes from months of neglect and abuse marred her skin. The sight made a rush of hot anger surge through him, but his hands were careful, as he slipped her feet into the flats he had brought, perfect for her size.

Vera looked down at him, shock and disbelief written across her face.

“T—Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Orion hummed softly, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. He guided her gently into the restaurant, empty and quiet as he had expected. Dragging a chair for her, he gestured for her to sit. Vera lowered herself onto it, still stiff.

“What would you like to eat?” he asked

She glanced around, taking in the empty space. “Should we eat here? Why is no one here?”

Orion’s eyes swept over the room before returning to her. “I booked the whole place.”

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

He shrugged casually, hands tucked in his coat pockets as he hovered nearby. “I wanted privacy.”

He didn’t add that he knew the world still mentioned her name, even after two and a half years of disappearance. Some remembered her as a model, a public figure. He didn’t tell her that, he didn’t want her self-consciousness to rise before she was ready.

“So… you can trust the food. I eat here all the time,” Orion added, letting his gaze linger on her just long enough to measure her reaction.

Vera’s eyes trailed down his figure, taking in the expensive cut of his coat, the polished shoes, the aura of controlled power he radiated. She looked like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Orion’s lips curved slightly, amused by her hesitation, but his eyes stayed serious. He was patient. He had all the time in the world to gain her trust.

“I’ll take whatever you are having,” Vera concluded softly.

He smirked. “You trust me that much?”

She stared at him blankly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Orion didn’t let it bother him.

The server of the night, a long-time friend of Orion’s, came to take their order. Burgers, fries, and hot chocolate, simple, comforting food.

While they waited, Orion pulled out his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he responded to emails. He could feel Vera’s gaze on him. He had that effect on people. It had always been enough to hold their attention, and now it was enough to set the stage for what he was about to do.

“Are you seriously not going to say anything until we eat?” Vera finally asked, breaking the silence, her voice carrying that mixture of frustration and softness that made him smile inside.

Orion hummed in response, still focused on his phone.

She scoffed, the sound sharp and impatient. It tugged at the corner of his mouth, another twitch of amusement rising before the server arrived with their food. Vera’s eyes lit up, tracing every plate, every detail. She licked her lips, almost reverently, like the food was treasure. Orion felt his chest tighten.

“Thanks, mate,” he said to the server, his voice clipped but warm.

Vera’s gaze didn’t leave the food. She looked like a child seeing something precious for the first time in years, and the sight softened something inside him.

“Why aren’t you eating, Vera? Waiting for the start of some bell?” he asked lightly, though his voice carried genuine curiosity.

Her face turned red, eyes darting to him. “I was waiting for you,” she muttered, small and almost meek.

“Waiting for me?” Orion asked, masking the flicker of surprise in his chest.

“Yes,” Vera said firmly. “You bought the food. It’s only right that you dig in first.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we just sit here, staring at it.”

“That’s bullshit,” he said, shaking his head, half amused.

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not. It’s simple etiquette.”

He almost laughed at the look on her face, the earnest seriousness clashing with the subtle childishness of her manner. She was vulnerable, tired, and still so fiercely principled.

“Eat your food, Vera,” he said calmly, leaning back slightly, giving her the space she needed to feel comfortable.

Vera hesitated, as if debating the rules of politeness versus hunger, before finally nodding. Her fingers fumbled slightly, then she dug in, slowly at first, then with a quiet intensity, as if reclaiming something stolen from her.

She complimented the food, soft praise, eyes lighting up at the taste, said it was the best she had eaten in a while, said she wasn’t allowed this luxury while she modeled.

She asked for the restaurant’s name, the server’s, and promised herself she would return someday, a small spark of her old self shining through the darkness she’d endured.

Orion watched her with something that bordered on awe. He had studied her, looked at files, photographs, videos. He had seen the tall, proud, confident model that the world adored. But sitting here, in this quiet, simple moment, she was raw, human and exposed.

“What?” Vera asked, noticing his gaze and the intensity of it, still chewing slightly, brow furrowed.

“I thought it was simple etiquette not to speak while eating,” he said lightly, eyes never leaving hers.

A drop of ketchup clung to the corner of her lips. He felt a jolt in his chest, the instinct to reach out and wipe it away making his fingers twitch, but he kept them firmly at his sides. Instead, he slid a tissue across the table to her.

“Your mouth,” he said softly.

She took it carefully, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

Vera bent over, dabbing at the stain, then took a careful sip of her drink, her movements precise.

“If you wanted me quiet, you could have just said so,” she murmured, eyes darting up at him.

“I just did,” he countered calmly.

Vera pinched her lips, wiping her hands against the jacket he had given her, and finally leveled him with a serious, searching look.

“I’m fed now,” she said softly. “Can you tell me… what I’m doing here?”

Orion leaned back, watching her closely, measuring the storm and fear behind her eyes. She was trying to hold herself together, trying not to crack, but he could see it anyway. He always could.

“I want to ask for your hand in marriage, Vera.”

For a second, nothing happened.

She just stared at him, blank and unmoving, like he had casually commented on the weather. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then it was as if something finally clicked in her mind.

“What?” she screeched, shooting to her feet so fast the chair scraped violently against the floor, tipping backward.

Orion didn’t react.

He didn’t rise. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even follow her movement with his body. His gaze lifted slowly from where she had been sitting to where she now stood, eyes steady, unreadable, and calm.

He reached for his phone, found what he was looking for and slid it across the table toward her.

“Marry me, Vera Mactthorn,” he said evenly. “And I promise I’ll bring all your enemies to their knees.”