The Vance estate, perched on a jagged cliff overlooking the Engadin Valley, was a marvel of glass and steel. It was a house that invited the light, yet as Julian led me inside, it felt like entering a labyrinth of shadows.
The interior was silent, save for the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of Julian's obsidian cane against the white marble. He didn't hold my hand; he didn't need to. He moved with a predatory grace, navigating the sharp corners of the minimalist furniture as if he had the entire floor plan etched into his brain.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing toward a velvet armchair.
I sat, my damp dress clinging to my skin. I scanned the room for an exit, but the floor-to-ceiling windows showed nothing but a thousand-foot drop into a snowy abyss.
"There is no point in looking at the windows, Lyra," Julian said, walking toward a crystal decanter. He poured two glasses of amber liquid without spilling a single drop. "The glass is reinforced. The security is biometric. And the nearest neighbor is five miles of frozen forest away."
He walked toward me and held out a glass. I hesitated, then took it. My fingers brushed his, and a jolt of heat raced up my arm. He didn't pull away immediately. He tilted his head, his sightless eyes fixated on a point just behind my ear.
"You're wondering how a blind man knows where you're looking," he murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "I hear the rustle of your silk dress. I feel the shift in the air when you turn your head. To me, you aren't a silent girl. You are a symphony of movements."
I set the glass down on the side table with a sharp clink. I took out my notepad and scribbled furiously.
What do you want from me? Why am I here?
I stood up and pressed the paper into his palm. Julian's fingers closed over mine, trapping my hand against the paper. He didn't read the note with his eyes; he ran his thumb over the back of the page, feeling the deep imprints my pen had left in my desperation.
"I want exactly what I told you in the car," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration. "Protection. My brother, Marcus, is a man of many sins, but he is careful. He has spent years building a facade of the perfect statesman. You... you saw the cracks in that facade tonight."
He stepped closer, forcing me to lean back against the armchair.
"If you leave this house, you are a dead woman. Marcus has the police, the border guards, and the local gangs in his pocket. But he cannot touch you if you are a Vance."
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a velvet box. He snapped it open to reveal a diamond the size of a bird's egg, glowing like a trapped star in the dim light.
"The Contract is simple," Julian continued. "You will be my fiancée. You will live here, under my roof, and accompany me to the events where Marcus is present. You will be my eyes. You will read the lips of his associates, his rivals, and his mistress. You will give me the ammunition I need to tear his empire down."
I shook my head, my breath hitching. I didn't want to be a pawn in a war between brothers.
"In exchange," Julian leaned in, his face so close I could see the flecks of silver in his grey eyes, "I will give you a new identity. A new life. And I will find the men who took your voice all those years ago."
I froze. My breath stopped. No one knew about the night I lost my voice. The police files had been "lost" a decade ago.
How do you know about that? I wanted to scream, but only a dry gasp escaped my throat.
Julian reached out, his hand cupping the back of my neck. His touch was firm, possessive. "I know everything about you, Lyra Thorne. I've been watching you—in my own way—for a very long time."
He took the ring from the box. "If you agree, stay still. If you don't... the door is behind you. You can take your chances with the wolves outside."
I looked at the door, then back at the man who stood like a beautiful, dark god in the center of the room. The wolves outside would kill me. The man in front of me... I didn't know what he would do. But for the first time in ten years, I didn't want to run.
I stayed still.
Julian took my left hand. His fingers were cold as he slid the heavy ring onto my finger. It felt like a handcuff made of diamonds.
"Good choice," he whispered. He tilted my chin up, his thumb grazing my lower lip once more. "Welcome to the family, Lyra. Try not to fall in love with the darkness. It tends to bite."
He turned and walked toward the stairs, his cane tapping rhythmically.
"Your room is the third on the left. My staff will bring you clothes. Sleep well, Lyra. Tomorrow, we start our first lie."
As he disappeared into the shadows of the upper floor, I looked down at the ring. I was no longer a waitress or a victim. I was the future Mrs. Vance.
And as I watched Julian's retreating figure, I noticed something that made my blood run cold. He had avoided a small, stray footstool in his path—not by feeling it with his cane, but by stepping around it before the cane even touched it.
My heart hammered. Either Julian Vance was the luckiest blind man in the world... or he was a much better liar than his brother.