Chapter six

The moment I stepped out of my house, my legs went weak. It wasn't because of the traitors in my living room, but the mysterious man I was about to face.

I knew he’d be expecting my father, assuming he hadn't seen the news yet. I doubted he had. If Michael Knox was anything like the man I had pictured in my head, he was likely too busy pulling out of businesses to bother about watching the news.

I didn't take my car. I wasn't familiar with the route, and a dark part of me felt that if things should go wrong, I’d need someone to tell the police where to find my body. I hailed a cab instead. After handing the driver the address I’d scribbled on a piece of paper, I expected him to start driving. He didn't.

He stared at me as if waiting to hear me say I'm joking. When I remained silent, he shoved the paper back at me.

"That’ll be five hundred dollars."

"It’s a twenty-minute drive," I snapped, my irritation flaring. "I checked the map." I didn't mind paying, but he can't possibly think I'm dumb enough to be cheated off five hundred dollars.

"Well, guess who’s behind the wheel? Me. Not G****e. You’re welcome to get out and find another ride, lady, but I doubt anyone else will be willing to drive you into Michael Knox’s territory."

After glaring at him for a while, I gave up. I didn't have time to go and find out.

"Fine," I bit out.

We arrived in less than twenty minutes. The estate was guarded by perfectly sculpted, giant trees that looked like they cost millions just to maintain. The mansion itself sat a distance away from where the driver parked, a magnificent, intimidating blend of medieval architecture and modern luxury.

"I can’t go any further. They won't let me," the driver muttered, his eyes darting toward the gate. "You need to get out here."

I nodded and stepped onto the pavement.

"I doubt anyone will file a missing person report since my dad's in the hospital and the man I married has a wife, but if you're watching the news and a picture of me pops up and I'm declared missing. Please tell the police you brought me here."

The driver looked at me and scoffed, probably thinking I escaped from a psychiatric ward.

"That'll be an extra five hundred dollars."

"What?"

"I don't even have a tv, I'll need to be checking my neighbors house once in a while to see if you've been declared missing." The driver replied.

"On second thought, you'd probably wouldn't even have the guts to say a word. I'll just give you five hundred dollars."

The second I handed him the bills, he zoomed off as if something invisible and hungry was chasing him.

As I approached the gates, I felt the weight of several sets of eyes. Men in black suits watched my every move from the shadows. I kept my chin up, walking with a confidence I did not feel at all. Just as I reached out to knock, a shrill, piercing sound erupted from a device hidden in the trees. I jerked back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Two men arrived instantly. They looked at me as if I were a can of beans that had expired a month ago.

"Who are you and what do you want?" one asked.

"I’m Rebecca Greene. I’m here to see Michael Knox," I stated, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

"Do you have an appointment?"

What would I be doing in this caveman fortress if I didn't? "I do," I said calmly.

The first guard pulled out a phone. After a series of robotic "yes, sirs," he eyed me from head to toe and nodded. I felt a surge of bitterness. The award for the most disrespected woman in the city definitely goes to me.

"The boss was expecting your father, not you."

"Then tell your boss that my father is unavailable," I said sharply, the last of my composure vanishing. "Tell him that I, Rebecca Greene, his only daughter have something to discuss with him."

The guards looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown horns. The one with the phone relayed my words verbatim. Then, we waited. Minutes stretched on and no one said a word. My feet were killing me. I looked around to find something to lean on, I saw a flat rock, I walked over, sat, and crossed my legs, refusing to let them see that I'm tired.

An hour later, the gate opened. A middle-aged man dressed as a butler stepped out and motioned for me to follow without a word. I stood up and marched past the guards, who fell in line behind me.

Inside, the estate was breathtaking. I had lived in luxury my entire life, but I had never seen craftsmanship this intentional, this expensive. I was ushered into a waiting area and told to sit. Servants and guards scurried about, throwing hurried, curious glances my way.

A servant eventually offered me a drink and snacks. I was starving, but I declined. I couldn't afford to be vulnerable until I saw him. The servant simply nodded, placed the tray in front of me anyway, and vanished.

Two more hours passed. By then, I was exhausted. Throwing caution to the wind, I finished the snacks and gulped down the drink. If I was going to die today, I wasn't doing it on an empty stomach.

I checked my watch: 4:00 PM. I had left my house at nine this morning. My anger began to outweigh my fear. What kind of heartless man did this? This wasn't just about being principled, this was cruel. He knew I was out here. Was he just some insecure, pot-bellied old man who enjoyed breaking people to feel powerful? He had to be.

I stood up, walking over to a servant with a haughty expression.

"Please, go tell your boss that a young woman, his business partner’s daughter, has been waiting for hours. Tell him I haven't had a real meal since morning, my feet are screaming in these heels, and that—"

A heavy door swung open. The butler from earlier stepped out and gestured toward the room.

My stomach did a slow roll. I straightened my gown and took a deep breath, trying to stop the visible shaking of my hands. One, two, three... I counted to ten. As the image of my father in that hospital bed flashed in my mind, the fear evaporated, replaced by a strong determination.

I stepped into the study. It was a masterpiece, a library that felt like a bridge between the 21st century and the Middle Ages. Every piece of equipment was pristine, every book perfectly aligned. Everything was sparkling clean.

"Go back and knock, Rebecca."

The voice was a dark, velvety growl that seemed to vibrate through walls. It came from behind a massive crystal desk. Dark eyes locked onto mine with such intensity I felt my skin burn. He didn't move, not even while I was still trying to process his last words. Instead, his eyes went back to the book he had been reading. He had measured me and already found me unworthy before I could even say a word.

"Go back and knock, Rebecca" the words echoed in my head, stripping me of the tiny shreds of confidence I had gathered. He still wasn't bothered. He flipped through the pages, as if I wasn't there. He had intentionally kept me here all these while.He wanted me to wait.

Anger surged through me like wildfire, and so did flashes of my father in the hospital. Before I could stop myself, my feet moved.