Chapter 2: The Mask

Sebastian

The heavy glass door clicked shut and I was left in the silence of my office, suffocating.

As soon as the latch fastened the breath I had been holding came out of me. I slapped both palms down on the smooth mahogany desk, head hanging, knuckles bone white.

​Clara.

God she was right there.

​Seven years. It only took about 4,000 miles of distance, millions of dollars in security and a complete rewrite of my identity to bring down every defence I had put in place.

​She looked breathtaking. Her dark, pin-straight hair was pulled off her face, her navy fitted blazer looked professional and well-organized, and she wore a smart, businesslike look like the strong, tough woman she had worked so hard to be. Her eyes, however, those brown, expressive eyes, were just the same. They were hot with a deadly mix of shock, hurt and pure concentrated fire, except today, when I was drowning in the warmth and laughter.

​She hated me. She had all the right to.

I stood up and took a sip of the glass of water from my desk, but I shook a bit, and I swallowed it. I went over to the wall of glass, which stretched down to the street below and I could see the ants and yellow cabs crawling over the ground.

​She thought I walked out on her. She believed that I was just another rich boy who played with her heart and dumped her after college. I got a burner phone call, she wasn't aware of it, 3 days before graduation. She was unaware of the photos she was photographed in, using a long-range lens with a red crosshairs drawn over her face as she walked back to her dorm.

Julian, "step in" to your father's shoes at Thorne Enterprises, or don't make it to your diploma, the Mercer girl.”

Thorne Enterprises had been deflating for years by my family's corporate enemies, the Vane Syndicate. With my father's death they viewed me as a loose end. When they got to Clara, they found my jugular.

I could not keep her safe as Julian, the broke scholarship student, who had a burning ambition and a fake name. As the only way to save her was for me to become what my father had raised me to be; Sebastian Thorne, the monster. Cold. Untouchable. Reclusive. No heart, no weaknesses, no people to be harmed by their enemies.

​I cut every tie. I deleted Julian from my life. I worked my way through Vane Syndicate for 7 years, placing them into a corner bit by bit.

​And now, the cornered rats were getting desperate.

Three weeks ago, my security chief noticed a compromise in my private network. The Vanes had their digging fingers out again to see if they could dig up a lever. It was only natural that my name should be resurrected and not Clara's. It was no longer safe to leave her out in the open.

So I did some pulling strings. I paid off the HR of the Vance Group to give me a few whispers. I ensured that her CV made its way onto Brenda's desk. I took her right into my fortress.

Hold on to your friends close, and the woman you'd burn the world for even closer.

​A soft buzz sounded on my desk. I pushed the intercom button and spoke in the flat, icy tone that I had developed over seven long years.

​"Yes, Brenda?"

Ms. Mercer has got the quarterly acquisition files you asked for together; I'll explain them to you as soon as you come out and see her—she's outside with the summaries.

I had to shut my eyes for a moment and allow myself to feel the bad, familiar pain in my chest. It was the most difficult thing I ever had to do, and that I ever did, to pretend to be a stranger. However, if I glanced at her, if I even gave her a glance of soft eye contact or even a whisper of who I used to be my enemies would see it. They would kill her and me!

Well, "Send her in," I said cold-bloodedly, as though my eyes were open and I had adjusted my cuff links. “And to pass her the audit reports, too.”

Do not go through it Julian, I told myself as the door handle started turning. In another few minutes.