Chapter 5: A Debt Five Years Old

The instant I saw that date, I knew I had to move fast, and no matter which angle I looked at the problem from, I kept arriving at the same conclusion. I would not get anywhere near that jade unless I went home first.

Contrary to what most people assumed about me, I was not an orphan. I was the eldest daughter of the Valmont family. When I was ten, my mother died, and my father brought his mistress into our house within weeks. It turned out he had been cheating on my mother for years and already had a daughter with the woman.

From that point on, my life turned into something close to hell. I was made to work alongside the household maids, beaten for the smallest mistake, and left hungry more nights than I could count. Once, someone poisoned my food, and I would not have survived if a few of the maids had not noticed something was wrong in time to call for help. My father, Alistair Valmont, looked the other way through all of it, favoring Stephanie, his daughter from the mistress, while treating me like an obligation he resented.

When I turned eighteen and was finally old enough to leave on my own, I took every bit of savings I had scraped together and walked out without a single glance back. Nobody from the Valmont house ever came looking for me. As far as they were concerned, I had simply ceased to exist. I carried a deep and lasting hatred for that family, but I was willing to set it aside if it meant surviving what was coming.

My father had attended Domino's private auction every year for as long as I could remember, and I was certain he already held an invitation for tonight. I would go back and take it from him.

I barely slept that night, turning over again and again beneath the blanket. The next morning, the first thing I did after opening my eyes was check for the system.

"System," I said under my breath, and when the familiar panel appeared, I let out a small, satisfied smile, relieved that the night before had not been some elaborate dream.

After that, I bathed and dressed in the nicest thing I owned, a simple blue dress, and grabbed my purse before heading out the door. I spent nearly the last of my cash on a cab to the Valmont mansion.

The sun beat down brightly overhead as the mansion came into view behind its towering walls, white pillars gleaming above the black iron gate. I stood in front of it and felt a knot tighten in my stomach, memories of the day I left flickering behind my eyes.

I refused to let myself linger there. There is no use mourning the past, I told myself. From now on, I focus on the future. I took a bold step forward.

A small intercom sat mounted beside the gate, and I pressed the button beneath its screen. Somewhere deep in the compound, a bell rang, and a few seconds later the screen flickered on to reveal a familiar face.

"Good afternoon, how may I help you," the gatekeeper began, before recognition widened his eyes. "Serelle?"

I nodded, my lips curving upward on their own, and the screen went dark before the wicket gate swung open. James stepped out and closed the distance between us in a few quick strides, pulling me into his chest and holding on tight.

"Oh my dear, I cannot believe I get to see you," he said, his voice cracking. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were misty. "How have you been?"

I noticed the grey now scattered through what used to be solid black hair, and the way his cheeks had thinned with age. "I have been fine," I told him, and he held me at arm's length, studying me the way a father studies a daughter he has missed.

"How have you been, Pa James? Age seems to be catching up with you."

He laughed, and the laugh dissolved into a fit of coughing before he reached out and pinched my cheek. "Still as cheeky as ever," he said, and then his expression sobered. He glanced over his shoulder and back to me. "What brings you here?" he asked quietly.

Coming from anyone else, I might have taken that question as a warning to leave, but James had never once looked at me that way. He had worked for the Valmont family for more than thirty years, and after my mother died, he was one of the very few people in that house who ever bothered to look after me.

"I came for a short visit," I said. "Is my father home?"

"Yes, he is," James answered, his eyes crinkling with concern at the edges. "But tell me honestly, dear, is everything all right with you?"

"Everything is fine. Is he alone?"

"Yes. Miss Stephanie and her mother are away on a trip. Your father should be in his study."

He led me through the gate and up the long driveway, past neatly trimmed flower beds and gardeners too busy with their work to spare me a second glance. If my father truly was alone in that house, this would be far easier than I expected. We stopped in front of the main door, and I pressed the bell beside it, listening to it chime faintly from somewhere inside.

A young maid I did not recognize opened the door a moment later. "Good afternoon," she said. "I am sorry, we were not expecting any guests today."

"I am a daughter of this house," I told her, and watched the realization slowly dawn on her face. She stepped aside at once, apologizing, and I walked past her without slowing down.

"Take me to my father's study," I said, and she led me down the familiar hallway to the same brown mahogany door I remembered from childhood. I knocked once, waited for permission, and drew in a steadying breath before letting myself inside.

My father sat behind his desk with a laptop open in front of him, papers scattered across the surface in loose stacks. Without lifting his eyes, he said, "Drop the coffee and leave."

When no footsteps retreated, he finally looked up, and the moment our eyes met, I watched surprise flash across his face before it hardened into something colder. His hair had gone fully white now, though his cheeks had filled out slightly with age.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down without waiting to be asked. "Nice to see you too, Dad."

He set his glasses down on the desk. "You do not look surprised to see me."

"What did you expect, that I would throw my arms around you after you let me run off five years ago?" he muttered, more to himself than to me. "It seems James is finally losing his sharpness in his old age. Perhaps it is time to let him go."

I was not here to reopen old wounds between us. I had come for the invitation, and I intended to keep my focus there.

"That makes two of us who are not surprised," I said, though some small, stubborn part of me had hoped he might ask how I was doing, the way James had. Instead I found the same wall I remembered from childhood, without a single crack of warmth behind it.

He studied me for a long moment, and I could see him searching for the timid girl who had left this house five years ago and finding nobody there anymore.

"I came to ask you for something," I said, deciding there was no point wasting time. Whatever remained unsettled between us could wait for another day, and I was fairly certain this would not be our last meeting.

"I have nothing for you," he said flatly, sliding his glasses back on and jerking his chin toward the door. "The moment you walked out of this house, there stopped being a place in it for you."

I bit down on my lip, hating the small flicker of hurt his words still managed to stir in me. I stayed exactly where I was, watching him, and running through the steps of Mind Push in the back of my mind. Before I used it, though, I needed to confirm he actually had the invitation I had come here for.

"Domino's private auction is tonight," I said. "Do you need company? I would not mind playing the dutiful daughter, just this once."

He let out a slow sigh. "Give me one reason I should let you come."

"Consider it an apology, for all the years you neglected me."

"You are the one who left," he said, his voice as cold as ever.

My jaw ticked as I studied him, searching for even a flicker of care and finding nothing. He could not stand the sight of me, and some part of him still blamed my leaving for whatever damage he thought it had done to the family name.

But while he sat there working out exactly why he disliked me, I had already gotten the confirmation I came for. He had the invitation.

I lowered my eyes for a moment, pretending to consider giving up, and that was when I heard it.

A familiar chime echoed softly inside my head, and a translucent blue panel unfolded silently in the air in front of me.

Second Target Detected.

The moment I saw the words, something in my chest lit up. If the system had already marked him, then there was no reason left to keep asking nicely. I would simply make him hand the invitation over himself.