Chapter 6: Don’t disappoint me, little siren

~ Scarlett ~

The shadow at the end of the hedge maze shifted, and out stepped a woman who looked like she had been sculpted from marble and ice.

She wore a sharply tailored charcoal suit that clung to her commanding frame, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into an immaculate, razor-tight chignon.

Her eyes—a pale, translucent blue swept over the scene with the cold precision of a hawk evaluating prey.

"She has the eyes of a creature that bites back," the woman observed, her voice smooth, deep, and devoid of warmth. She stopped beside Nikolai, taking in my disheveled hair, my bare ankles, and the maid's uniform clinging to my chest.

“Good. Soft women die in our world within forty-eight hours."

Nikolai didn't look at her. His gaze remained pinned to mine, his fingers slowly relaxing as he stepped back, giving me a fraction of breathing room. The absence of his oppressive heat made the morning air feel suddenly frigid.

"Scarlett, meet Madame Vane," Nikolai said smoothly, adjusting the heavy gold cufflink on his left wrist as if he hadn't just been holding me pinned against a hedge wall like a captive animal.

"She is the sole reason three different syndicate heads aren't currently buried in unmarked graves."

Madame Vane’s cold blue eyes locked onto mine. "You ran," she noted, her voice flat. "A futile effort, but the instinct to survive is a necessary baseline."

A bitter laugh nearly bubbled up my throat. I swallowed it, my fists clenching at my sides.

"I didn't run. I was leaving."

"In a house with forty armed guards, thermal perimeter sensors, and a hedge maze designed by a military strategist?" Nikolai’s lips twitched into a dark, mocking half-smile.

"You didn't escape, little siren. I simply wanted to see how far your pride would drag you before you realized every door in this estate is closed."

The cold truth hit me like a slap to the face.

He had known the moment I left my bed. He had watched me wander through those green labyrinth walls, letting me run until my lungs burned, just so he could sit by his fountain, sip his espresso, and shatter my hope at the finish line. It wasn't an escape; it was a cruel, calculated warning.

Escaping this fortress from the inside was a delusion.

"Come inside," Nikolai commanded, turning his back on me and stepping toward the mansion's rear terrace. "We have a contract to discuss."

I stood frozen for a beat, my heart hammering against my ribs. Madame Vane waited, her sharp brow arched in silent judgment. I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose, lifted my chin, and followed them back into the marble jaws of the house.

The private study was steeped in the smell of dark tobacco and aged leather. Nikolai sat behind his massive mahogany desk, while Madame Vane stood near the tall French windows, watching me like a hawk studying a test subject.

A sleek leather folder sat in the center of the desk.

"I have no intention of keeping you as a maid, Scarlett," Nikolai began, his deep voice filling the heavy room. "The dress was merely a reminder of where you stand. You were auctioned for a hundred million dollars, and I intend to collect every cent of that value."

"By turning me into a glorified servant?" I spat, keeping my distance.

"By turning you into my weapon," Nikolai corrected, his dark eyes flashing with unyielding intensity.

"In three weeks, the Supreme Council will convene for the annual Syndicate Gala. Every major cartel leader, corrupt politician, and underworld broker across the continent will be in that room. I require a Syndicate Hostess and Protocol Specialist."

My brows pulled together. "A hostess."

"Not a party planner," Madame Vane interjected smoothly, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood as she stepped forward.

"A diplomat. A woman who can read the micro-expressions of an assassin across a banquet table, spot a poisoned glass before it touches his lips, and manipulate a cartel boss into signing a territory treaty with a single smile."

She paused, her icy eyes narrowing.

"Nikolai needs someone who possesses high-society grace, iron nerves, and an untraceable mind. You have the pedigree. I will provide the lethal polish."

Nikolai leaned forward, resting his elbows on the dark wood, lacing his long fingers together.

"Here are your options, Scarlett," he said softly, his tone dripping with quiet danger.

"Option one: You refuse. You spend your days locked in a windowless sub-basement cell beneath this estate, fed through a slot in the door, while your uncle Richard slowly dismantles your mother's care and sells off what's left of your life."

My throat constricted, a cold dread pooling in my stomach.

"Option two," Nikolai continued, "you agree. You submit to Madame Vane's conditioning. You stand at my side as my official companion, draped in diamonds, representing the De Santis family at the highest levels of power."

I stared at him, my mind racing at lightspeed behind my unreadable expression.

The sub-basement meant total burial. I would be helpless, blind, and buried alive while my mother died in a hospital bed and Julian searched for me in vain.

But the Gala...

A public event meant crowds. It meant high-society elites, security breaches, press, and corrupt officials. It meant a room full of people where Nikolai couldn't control every shadow. If I was out in the open, I could find a phone. I could cry out for help. I could slip away into a crowded ballroom, reach the police, or contact Julian.

He thought he was offering me a golden leash. He had no idea he was handing me my only key to the outside world.

I forced the panic down, burying my secret intention beneath a layer of cold, defiant composure. I took two steps toward his desk, resting my palms against the polished edge, leaning down until I was looking Nikolai directly in his dark, unblinking eyes.

"And if I play your little game?" I whispered, my voice steady and sharp. "What do I get?"

"You get to stay breathing," Nikolai replied without hesitation. "And when the Council business is concluded, we renegotiate."

I held his gaze for three long seconds, letting him see the defiance still burning in my soul.

"Fine," I said, straightening my spine and smoothing down the front of the black dress. "Teach me."

A slow, dangerous smile curled the corner of Nikolai's lips.

"Starting now, Madame Vane is your master. Don't disappoint me, little siren."