Chapter Three

Dahlia's POV 

Inside the limousine was quiet. 

Julian sat across from me. He was holding a glass of scotch. He had poured himself a glass as soon as we got in.

He was typing on his phone, and I was fixed on the tinted glass of the train window.

"Stop fidgeting," Julian urged, without glancing up from the screen.

I froze. I didn't realize that I was twisting my dress. "I am nervous.

"You should be," he said. He finally locked his phone and put it down. He looked at me. His eyes were dark in the dim light of the car. "You just sold yourself to a man who hates your family," he explained.

"You agreed to the deal," I said.

"I did," he said. "Because I want to see Marcus Vane's face when I tell him I own his debt. And his daughter.”

I glanced down at my hands. "Is that all that I am, merely something that would otherwise harm my father?"

Julian leaned forward. "The space between us narrowed, the air thickened. "You tell me, Dahlia. You came to me, offered your body, your life. Did you expect romance?"

I felt a stinging sensation behind my eyes, but I did not allow tears to come. "No, but I expected safety from Silas.”

"You're safe from him," Julian said. "But who's going to protect you from me?"

The car slowed down. We pulled into the underground garage of a huge glass skyscraper in Tribeca. The Thorne Tower.

"The driver opened the door. Julian stepped out, and I was right behind him like a puppy. "

He didn't wait for me, taking the private elevator. I had to jog in my heels to catch up.

We climbed up in silence. The figures rose higher. 50. 60. PH.

The doors led directly into a penthouse. It was huge, with a chill, all-grey, all-black, all-chrome decor. There were windows that looked over the entire city.

"This is your room,” Julian said.

He nodded towards a door that was off the main hall.

I walked over to open it. Oh, my eyes almost popped. It was spacious with a king-sized bed, with gray sheets. It also had a Hudson River view.

"Thank you," I said.

"Don't get too comfortable," Julian warned, coming up behind me. "You're staying with me until I figure out what I'm going to do with you. You can't leave that apartment without my say-so. You can't contact anyone, least of all the press."

"No, that won't be a problem,” I said. "My father confiscated my phone and cards.”

"Even better," Julian whispered. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a black credit card, and tossed it onto the bed. "Get yourself some new clothes. You look like a fool in that dress."

"I rented it," I said.

"Burn it. I don't want you wearing something that other men have been touching," he said.

He turned and walked away, into the room across the hall, shutting the door. The lock clicked.

I sat on the edge of this weird bed, fixating on that black card.

~

The next morning, the apartment was empty.

There was a note on the kitchen counter. It was written in a sharp, angular script.

Be ready by 9 o'clock. We will meet your father.

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was 8:30 in the morning.

I was panic-stricken and hurried to the bedroom. I did not own any clothes except for the dress that I had hired.

"I couldn't wear that. Julian told me to burn it," she explained.

I opened the closet. To my surprise, there were boxes. I opened one. It was chock-full of new clothes: jeans, blouses, dresses, sweaters, and gowns. They were all mine.

He must have ordered them through his assistant.

I wore a white blouse, black slacks, and then I pulled back my hair.

Just as the clock struck 9, the elevator door slid open. Julian entered, wearing a grey suit.

His eyes did the talking. Driving through Midtown to my father’s office in the back seat of the SUV was as quiet as the previous night.

At The Vane Industries:

The receptionist was surprised to see me. She was even more surprised to see Julian with me.

"Mr. T...Thorne," she stuttered. "Mr. Vane is in a

"Tell him I want to see him immediately," Julian said.

He went past her, heading towards the other side of the hall, and pushed open the double door entrance to my father’s office without knocking.

His father was behind his desk, yelling into the phone, until he realized that they were there. He ceased yelling when he saw them. His face turned as white as snow.

"What is this?" Marcus shouted. He banged the phone down. "Dahlia? I told you to stay home."

"She doesn't have a home," Julian stated. Julian entered the room, taking a seat in the other chair facing the desk. He was clearly unbothered.

"Get out of my office, Julian," Marcus snarled. "I don't have time for your nonsense."

"You have plenty of time," Julian said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folder, sliding it across the desk. "I acquired your debt, Marcus. Entirely. The loans from the bank, the private equity, and the promissory note you gave Silas."

Marcus froze. He looked at the folder. "That is impossible. Silas wouldn't sell.

"Silas did not have a choice," Julian stated. "I exercised a clause in the family trust. I bought him out at a premium. He's richer, but you…you belong to me now."

Marcus opened the folder. His hands were shaking as he looked at the documents.

"And Dahlia?" Marcus asked. He glared at me with hatred. "Did you take the girl, too?"

"Dahlia is involved in the asset acquisition," Julian said coolly. "She’ll live with me, and she will respond only to me. You will not have any rights to her whatsoever.”

"You want her?" Marcus laughed. "Take her. She is useless, anyway. And she cost me a pretty penny, much like her mother."

I winced.

Julian stood up. He did this so quickly that I didn’t see it. He leaned over the desk, taking hold of my father’s tie. He yanked him forward.

Julian’s eyes narrowed. "Speak of her like that again, and I will dissolve this firm and leave you with nothing. Do you understand?"

Marcus was shocked, nodded.

Julian pushed him back and straightened his suit jacket.

"Come, Dahlia," Julian said

He turned and walked out.

I stood there for a second. I looked at Dad. He was working on tying his tie. He wasn't looking at me. He was already thinking two steps ahead.

At that moment, I realized that I never really had a father. I simply had a manager.

"What are you waiting for?" Julian roared, causing me to tremble as I turned quickly, walking towards Julian. 

He leaned, whispering in my ear. “Don’t ever make me wait, again.”

I shuddered, and gulped down hard. What the hell did I get myself into.