Alina pulled the entrance door open and entered the shabby-looking house. They had moved here after the bank had collected their mansion which her father had used as collateral when he borrowed money from them. Of course he was unable to pay back. The passageway was dark as usual because she had been unable to purchase a bulb.
She had returned from the hotel and headed to her part time cafe job where she made pennies for herself and brother. As for her father, Alina didn't bother to find out where he was eating from or how he got money to buy beers.
"Meow." A scrawny ginger cat strolled out from the kitchen with her younger brother, Kelvin on its heels.
"Sister, I missed you," he said and reached for her.
Kelvin was thirteen years old and still in middle school. Their mother's weak health had taken a toll on him, more so since he was yet to know how to take care of himself. He was still a kid. His black hair was messy and his skin oily. "What were you doing in the kitchen with Petra?" Alina asked and peeked inside to see the island looking messy.
"Kelvin?" She queried. "What happened here?"
Kelvin pouted and shrugged. "I was hungry so–"
"Meow." Petra the cat interrupted him. Alina rolled her eyes and came inside the kitchen to inspect the mess her brother had made.
"We were hungry so I decided to make pancakes. Mom taught me how to, remember?" He pouted, staring at her with puppy dog eyes which she always fell for. Alina was a gentle yet rebellious girl. Kelvin knew that so he chose his words carefully and even added their mother's approval as reassurance. That way, he won't be scolded by her.
Alina exhaled tiredly and shrugged. "Where's Dad? Has he returned home?" She asked and reached for the apron which was placed on a stand. Their father had stopped caring about them. Before their mother got sick, she was the sole breadwinner of the family while their father lavished his money without a care in the world. Gambling and womanizing. Perhaps he was the one that bankrupted his company. He had also refused to come clean with the reason why all the money disappeared into thin air.
Alina picked a napkin and a bowl as she began cleaning.
"He went to the Thompson's. He said he was going over there to eat while he left me and Petra, hungry," Kelvin seethe in anger. "I want him gone forever," he whispered and exited the kitchen with a slouchy posture.
"Wait, Kelvin!" Alina called after him. "I brought dinner for you. Have it then use the shower," she shouted from the kitchen but received no response from him.
She sighed in exasperation and returned to cleaning the table. She hated how her pulse skipped when she remembered the way he'd looked at her—steady, unblinking, as though he could see clean through her defenses. Even now, the echo of his voice brushed her skin like a forbidden touch. When she was done cleaning, she dried her hands and reached for the brown envelope which had been sitting idly since she arrived.
"What about Mom? How's she?" Kelvin's voice came from behind Alina, startling her. When has she become this jittery? Gripping the envelope tightly, she turned to face Kelvin who was now clad in his green pajamas. He was looking more relaxed and clean than when she had returned. He was still wet from the shower which she found upsetting.
She placed the envelope back on the table and didn't fail to notice how Kelvin's eyes followed her movement in curiosity. She reached for his shoulders and made him look at her. "Learn to towel your hair dry else you will catch a cold," she whispered and pulled him towards his room. Alina tried to brush off the topic.
"You've not answered my question," Kelvin protested. "Is she alright? When would I be allowed to see her?" He kept questioning Alina who was being tight-lipped.
She didn't know how to respond to his questions. Was she supposed to lie? To lie that their mother was okay? Or should she tell him the truth? How would that sound to him? That their mom who has always been a lively woman was so close to losing her life?
"Kelvin," She uttered abruptly. Shutting her eyes tightly, Alina's lips shook. Her eyes itched to tear up but she held herself.
"Mom's seriously ill but I promise you that she's going to be alright in two weeks time." She opened her red rimmed eyes and saw her brother gazing at her in disbelief.
"Is she going to die?" He asked as his face paled in comprehension of what was really going on.
Alina shook her head vehemently, as if denying reality. "No. Mom's going to be alright. Trust me. I've secured the money for her operation." She tried to pacify him but Kelvin was staring at her with doubt written all over his face.
He took a step back. "You're just saying that to calm me down aren't you? I'm a kid but I'm not naive. Father said a lot of things while you were away after downing four bottles of beer and—"
"KELVIN!!! I'm not lying," she yelled. "You see that envelope over there," she pointed to the table. "That's what would save mom. So don't be scared, okay?" Alina felt her inside sting as though it has been pierced by thousands of needles. Was this how they were going to keep living?
RING!!
Alina's phone suddenly buzzed from the table. She quickly reached for it and when she looked at the caller, her lips immediately set into a thin line---worries crept in. It was her fashion manager.
Kelvin begrudgingly went back to his room and slammed the door so hard that the foundation of the building shook. Alina winced and answered the call.
"Your one month leave is ending tomorrow. We have given you enough time. It's either you resume tomorrow or kiss your job good bye," the stern voice of the manager filled the living room.
"I understand. Than–" The manager hung up before she could even say anything.
*
She tore the envelope in haste expecting to see the money for her mother's treatment. Instead, she came face to face with a bunch of paperwork and a business card. What is this? She questioned herself internally and began reading through the papers. Then it dawned on her that it was the proposal documents. Below each paper was an already signed part with the name "Damian Thorn" while there was a blank one which was possibly for her name. Her brows furrowed when she saw a pen among the papers. From the looks of it, it was an expensive one.
What Alina didn't know was that that pen was going to change her life.
She dialed the number on the business card.
"Finally. My wife." His voice slid through the speaker like velvet dipped in ice—smooth, deep, and unsettlingly intimate. It did something strange to her chest, tightening it with irritation… and something she refused to name.
She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I am not your wife. We are not married yet!" She tried to control her brewing anger. He was so arrogant to the core.
There was silence on his end for a few seconds. Then he chuckled wickedly. Alina moved the phone away from her ear in confusion. Was he even human? "Now listen to me, filthy woman. The moment you signed on those papers, you instantly became my wife. Mrs Alina Thorn" The way he said her new name—slow, deliberate—felt like a brand searing into her skin. Her breath hitched, outrage and something warmer colliding in her chest. Then the line went dead, leaving Alina sitting with a blank expression.
*
Deep in her sleep, Alina dreamt of a monster chasing her into the depth of an abyss.
Her phone buzzed. She quickly sat up and checked to see a missed call from the doctor. She immediately dialed his number which he answered in the next second.
"Good morning Mrs. Thorn, I would like to thank you for sending twice the amount of money required for your mother's operation." Hearing another man call her Mrs. Thorn sent a strange chill through her—part dread, part something dangerously close to security. Damian had moved silently, decisively. Too decisively. "Congratulations, her operation was a success. We went into the OR the moment we received the message from you. Your mother's fine now and her breathing is being stabilized. You can visit in three days. Thank you for your co-operation," the doctor then hung up.
It was 4 am in the morning. She was trying to swallow everything that the doctor just said. He called her Mrs. Thorn. The message? What message? She didn't send any messages to anyone last night. Times two of the amount? It has to be Damian's doing.
She reached for the business card on the table and checked the details. A cold smile graced her lips she made for her room.
*
She would leave for her work by 12pm. For now, she has something to do. Kelvin had left for school by 7. It was already 9:30am. The bus came to a stop and she quickly exited it. She stopped a cab, showed the driver the business card and he nodded in apprehension. He had never driven to that part of the city before.
Alina grinned like a child as she thought about the paperwork. Out of the twenty, she signed just one. That way, it would be easier to divorce in the future without going through a lot of court procedures.
The moment the cab drove into the Oasis quarter, Alina became conscious of her surroundings. Never had she thought that this place was on a whole new level. The previous 5 star hotel was nothing compared to this reserved area. Huge and tall infrastructure filled the space and people dressed in suits and driving on expensive cars littered the street. It was a cradle of civilization.
The cab pulled up at the front of a thirty story building which was dominating the skyline, to her amazement. She immediately gulped down an invisible lump on her throat as she exited the car. As if the driver was also feeling intimidated, he stepped on the accelerator and zoomed off almost immediately. Alina was unable to take her eyes off the sleek modern design architecture with a glass and steel facade. There was only one word to describe it. Breathtaking.
It was then she found out that the people around were giving her strange glances.
How did her father manage to get Damian Thorn for her? The question was eating her up.
Alina rushed towards the entrance. The moment the automatic door pulled open for her to step in, she came face to face with the one person she had wished to see last. Beside him was a lady who seemed to be in her late twenties. A few feet away was a man in all black standing with piles of paper in his hands.
Amusement flashed in Damian's eyes as he took in Alina's appearance from head to her feet.
"Lucas, escort Miss Vaughn to her car, I've a sudden appointment with my wife," he said to the man without looking away from Alina. It was as if he had set his eyes on a rare gem.
Alina looked away in embarrassment as she grip the envelope tightly. Seems he was a blabbermouth.
"Wife?" The lady's voice came out as a screech. "How? When?" She asked. Disbelief was clearly written on her face but Damian didn't take his cold but intrigued glare off Alina.
"Yes Elena, she's my wife. Do you have a problem with that?"