Chapter Four

Raven

Summer asked me to excuse the room a few minutes after the CEO left, and I tried my best not to collapse right there on the floor. Somehow, I managed to sound convincing, overly confident even, because Summer gave me an encouraging smile before walking me back to the waiting room.

“They’re deliberating,” she said. “The company doesn’t waste time.”

I nodded and sat down, clutching my bag like it could protect me from the memory of grey glasses that had sliced right through me. Ten minutes later, my bladder decided to join the chaos.

I stood, excused myself politely from the others waiting in the room, and went searching for Summer again. It took a few minutes, but I found her arranging some folders near a glass office.

“Summer? I… uh… need the restroom.”

She winced. “The ladies restroom on this floor is under maintenance. Same with the one above and below. You’ll have to use the third floor.”

I forced a smile. “Okay. Thanks.”

The elevator opened immediately when I pressed the button. I stepped inside, relieved for the short break. Right as the doors began to close, an elderly cleaner rushed in, carrying a ridiculous stack of supplies that looked too heavy for her.

“Oh—here,” I said, helping her steady the load. She smiled gratefully.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she said. “Second floor, please.”

I pressed the button for her, riding down with her. Once the doors opened, she shuffled out carefully and I followed, mostly because she looked like she might topple over at any moment.

“Do you know where the restroom is?” I asked the moment we got to where she needed to drop the supplies.

She pointed to a hallway. “Down there. First left.”

“Thank you,” I said, then waved as she disappeared around the corner.

That was when my phone buzzed.

Cameron.

Cam: Sooo??? How’s it going?

I scoffed, taking a right turn, jogging down stairs.

Me: No idea. The CEO is a jackass but I'm fine.

Cam: He's a Mafia, watch your words. Just come home and tell me if the news about him being drop dead gorgeous is true.

I snorted. He's drop dead gorgeous, no lies, but there's no way I'm telling her that.

Me: Whatever.

I took another turn by the right, not watching.

Cam: You're a celebrity here at my company girl. Turns out the telecom was on when you were being interviewed. I still can’t believe you roasted those executives yesterday.

I snorted, typing back while walking.

Me: Really? Poor people. (Smiling face with tongue sticker out)

Cam: They deserve it. I'm so proud.

I kept typing, laughing at whatever text she sent next, not really watching where I was going. I pushed open a door, walked inside, still amused.

I realized after a few steps that the hallway was darker and colder than any office area should be.

“Hold on,” I murmured, lowering my phone.

Where were the signs? The lights?

I walked a few more steps, now uneasy. No restroom, no people, no open doors. Just silence.

“Okay… definitely not here.”

I turned to head back, but then a sharp, distant cry echoed faintly through the hallway.

I stop on my track, the voice so close I could feel the agony in it in my bones.

Another cry, louder this time. Someone pleading and it's someone in real pain.

My body reacted before my brain did. I followed the sound, heart pounding harder with every step, the hallway sloped down until the air changed—colder, mustier. A garage? An underground lot? Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

The cry came again and I turned the corner I was certain it was coming from. The moment I walked into the open, everything inside me stopped.

Kade stood in front of a man tied to a chair. The man was shaking, crying, begging—before Kade plunged a blood-covered knife straight into his throat.

The wet sound of it made something explode behind my eyes.

A muffled noise escaped me before I could stop it. I slapped my hand over my mouth and ducked behind a large concrete pillar, trembling so hard I nearly fell to my knees.

Blood pooled around the man. The smell hit me next, thick and metallic, and my vision spun.

Fifteen years ago came rushing back in a violent wave—my father, lying in a pool of blood, a man towering over him with a knife. My hands shaking uncontrollably, screaming, slipping in blood, too much blood.

I could barely breathe as sweat ran down my forehead. My throat burned.

I thought stupidly, desperately, that maybe no one noticed me.

Then footsteps echoed slow at first, but heavy it made my heart stop. It was his footsteps. I could smell his cologne.

They stopped a few steps away from my hiding place. My breath hitched as I forced my eyes close, trying to steady my breath.

Silence stretched. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my skull.

I needed to run, forget the investment, let my mother sell the bakery. I’d join her clothing business, I’d scrub floors for all I cared, anything was better than this.

I took one shaky step.

And his voice crashed into me.

“Bring a pen, Javier. Our little baker must be very eager to sign if she came to find me herself.”

I nearly peed myself as my entire chest tightened. He knew, this murderer saw me and he was calling me out like I was a stray cat hiding behind a trash can.

I clutched my phone tight. I could run, I was a good runner, I could scream and I could—

“Running will only make things messier and interesting, Baker,” he said calmly. “If you want to test me and enjoy how messy it gets, take your first step toward the exit. Not here. You came to sign our contract of partnership, did you not?”

My breath stuttered. That was a threat. He knew my information, he knew everything, my family, my bakery, every damn thing. If someone like him wanted leverage, he would find it easily.

My feet moved before my mind did. I stepped out slowly, refusing to look at the dead man. My stomach churned violently just thinking about it.

Kade wiped his hands clean with a towel, the same calm expression on his face as if he’d just finished slicing tomatoes, not a human being. He nodded toward me, and the corner of his lips moved slightly—not a smile. Something colder.

“Apologies for the unhealthy sight,” he said, tone flat.

“I—where’s the… contract?” I asked, voice shaking embarrassingly.

Javier, Mr. Reeve—pointed at a table set in the middle of the garage. Two files were placed neatly on it.

Two. One has to be mine. I'll just look for the one that had my name and sign.

He handed me a pen. My fingers barely held onto it. I picked one of the files, flipping it open. My name—Miss Statham—was clearly printed at the top and It made me wonder if I had just walked into something prepared long before I even applied.

But thinking too long would kill me, I could feel it.

I signed so fast and sloppy, I didn't hesitate, I didn’t care what it said anymore, I just wanted out.

Javier pointed at the other part of it and I did, he then took the first part, leaving me with the other one. My copy.

As soon as the pen touched the table again, I grabbed my copy and bolted. I didn’t wait for permission, I didn’t wait for anyone to speak. I ran.

Outside the building, my breathing finally cracked. I hailed the first cab I saw and told the driver to take me to the cemetery.

The rest of the afternoon blurred. I sat by my father’s grave, ignoring every call. I cried until my throat hurt. I vomited, I shook, I replayed the knife, the sound, the blood.

I had signed a partnership with a murderer, I had struck a deal with a crime lord, someone who killed like it was part of a schedule.

My quiet life was over and I could feel it. I could tell my life is about to take a spiralling change.

By the time the sun set, I wiped my face, pushed myself up, and finally went home.

The moment I stepped through the door, chaos erupted.

My mother, Cameron, Eric, Priscilla, and Aim rushed at me all at once.

“Where have you been?” “Are you okay?” “Did something happen?” “You look pale!” “Raven, answer!”

My mother held my face between her palms. “Is it because of the bakery? Raven, that bakery is useless and I told you already. You could’ve sold it, join my business. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

Here is the reason for my trouble, calling grandmother's and my father's legacy useless.

Something snapped in me. “The bakery isn’t useless!” I yelled. “And I’m not selling it!”

They all froze, watching me so keenly like I had gone mad. It was all my mother's fault. Only if she had given me more time.

I pulled the file from my bag and threw it on the table. “There! I got the partnership. The bakery will survive.”

Their confusion was instant. They had expected failure especially with the way I had walked in like a lost lamb.

  “Really?” Cameron screeched, hugging my numb self, happy as hell while I just stared.

 My mother opened the file. Cameron leaned in beside her, her face lit up in excitement.

But instead of smiling, their expressions changed. Cameron’s smile vanished. My mother’s jaw dropped.

Priscilla and Aim, my staff from the bakery, exchanged nervous glances. Eric stepped closer to get a look too.

They all stared at me, then at the file, then at me again.

“What?” I snapped. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Cameron swallowed hard. “What… what is this?” She asked, pointing at the file.

I raised a brow. “What's what?”

“What did you agree to, Raven? Why is this a Marriage contract?”

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Cameron pointed at the paper. “This… is a marriage contract.”

“That’s not—no, that’s impossible,” I said, snatching the file from them. “What do you mean marr—”

A sharp knock cut through the room.

Eric rushed to the door while my heart thudded as I skimmed the paperwork with shaking hands.

Then the door opened.

A familiar smell drifted inside before the man did any stomach twisted.

Kade walked into my home, filling the small space with his presence. His eyes found mine immediately, cold, unreadable. Javier and two other men stepped in behind him.

Kade’s lips tilted, just slightly.

“I see you’re just finding out about the document you signed, Miss Statham,” he said. “Good. Because we’re getting married. Tomorrow.”