His for a year. - Chapter 14: Chapter 14

“Stay behind me okay?” Ray said using one hand to shield me and the other holding his gun.
“What is … “ I didn't end my statement when glass shattered just behind us.
Ray shoved me down before I could process the sound, his arm across my back, his body shielding mine. I gasped as shards scattered across the hardwood floor, glittering like ice in the moonlight spilling through the balcony doors.
“Stay down,” he said through clenched teeth, eyes locked on the source of the chaos.
Another crash—this time something clinking against the wrought-iron railing of the balcony.
We both looked down.
A man in dark clothing had climbed the trellis just outside my room. His face was obscured—black mask, hood, gloves. But he was fast, agile. Too fast.
Raymond pointed his weapon to the intruder.
“Don’t move!” he barked.
But the intruder didn’t stop. He did not care.
With a swift, almost theatrical motion, the man hurled something onto the balcony. Another glass container. It hit the floor near Raymond’s feet and burst with a hiss—smoke and a sharp chemical smell filled the air. Tear gas?
Raymond stumbled backward, coughing. He tried to steady his aim but the haze was already creeping into the room.
I backed away into the room, coughing into my sleeve.
Through the swirling smoke, I saw the figure leap over the fence.
A clean drop to the garden below.
Gone.
"Shit!" Ray cursed, staggering toward the balcony, trying to get a visual. “I need eyes on the east lawn. Now!” he shouted into his earpiece. “Suspect jumped from the north balcony—possibly injured, but fast. Repeat, fast.”
He closed the balcony doors and pulled me away from the spreading smoke.
When we got downstairs, on the patio, my heart was thudding so hard I could barely speak. “Why… Why would someone come back here? Why not just rob the house?”
Raymond didn’t answer right away. Instead, he dropped to one knee near the shattered glass where the intruder had landed. Something black and heavy had been left behind in the rush—a boot.
He picked it up, turning it over.
There was something taped to the inside.
A small slip of paper. Folded.
Raymond pulled on a glove, removed it carefully, and opened it.
I watched his jaw tighten.
“What does it say?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He handed it to me.
“Hello, dancer.”
My stomach turned to ice.
“What does that mean?” I asked, staring at the words like they might rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.
Ray didn’t answer. He led me back upstairs, to my room. His eyes were scanning the dark horizon outside the window like he expected another body to come crashing through.
That was when Zade came storming back in.
He looked from the broken glass to me to the boot in Raymond’s hand.
“They got away,” Raymond said simply, still scanning. “Dropped this.”
Zade read the note, his face going rigid.
"I believe it was the intruder's plan to leave the boot behind. It might not even be their actual boot."
“No more games,” he said finally. “Double the security. I want the entire perimeter covered. Now.”
Ray nodded and moved toward the hallway, already relaying commands.
But Zade didn’t move.
He stayed standing there, boot in one hand, the note in the other.
He took my trembling hands and helped me to my feet. Then, without a word, he guided me into his room—right next to mine—and gestured toward the couch.
I sat stiffly. My body had gone cold, like all the fear had sunk into my bones.
He stepped out briefly. Through the open door, I caught a glimpse of him with two elderly women in uniform, wheeling cleaning trolleys past. Of course. He’d called housekeeping to clean my room.
When he returned, he sat beside me, close but not too close.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his hand gently curling around mine. “You’re trembling.”
I didn’t answer. My lips suddenly felt too heavy to lift.
“Don’t be scared anymore,” he said softly. “Security will be tightened. I promise.”
Before I could respond, the door flew open with a bang.
My heart skipped. I gripped Zade’s hand like a lifeline.
It was his mother.
“You get married, and suddenly the fortress is no longer secure?” she snapped, her voice clipped with fury.
“Mom, please,” Zade said, standing but not letting go of my hand. “Not now.”
“I told you this girl was trouble. But no one listens to me around here.”
She marched toward us. Zade instinctively stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. My head remained bowed. I couldn’t bear to meet her eyes. The shame was too raw, too immediate.
Then her words landed like a slap:
“Keep your misfortune away from the Avner fortress. I’m warning you now, unlucky whore.”
The door slammed shut behind her.
And then the tears came—uncontrollable, quiet, humiliating. I turned away and pulled my hand from Zade’s. I didn’t want comfort. Not from him. Not again.
I hate I presented this pitiable side to him again.
“I want to go back to my room,” I said, my voice thick, my gaze fixed on the floor.
He gestured silently toward the door.
Of course he let me go. Why wouldn’t he? I was a problem, not a person. A mistake he was obligated to fix.
Outside my room, the cleaners were already leaving. They bowed politely. I nodded back, numbly.
The second the door closed, I slid down its back, collapsing into myself.
I cried like I’d never cried before—messy, aching, broken sobs that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard I tried.
Who hated me this much?
And Hello, dancer?
They knew.
Someone out there knew everything I’d tried to bury. My past, my pain, the name I once answered to under neon lights and secrets. And now, it was being used to shatter whatever little dignity I had left.
Any chance of blending in, of surviving this house with quiet grace, was gone. I had been exposed.
I ran a trembling hand through my hair, my breaths uneven.
Then I looked up—and saw him.
Ray stood on the balcony, arms behind his back, feet planted like a soldier. Watching me.
He had seen everything. Heard every sob. Watched me unravel.
My face burned with humiliation. I turned away.
But he came inside anyway—softly, slowly—and crouched in front of me.
He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at me. Not with pity, but with a kind of gentle understanding that disarmed me.
“I don’t know who did this,” he said eventually, voice steady. “But it wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. And we'd do everything to get the intruder.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the steadiness in his tone.
“You don’t have to talk,” he added. “I just didn’t want you to sit in this alone.”
Something clenched in my chest. No one had ever said that to me before—not like that. Not with intention.
We sat in silence for a while. Thick, but not suffocating. He stayed crouched, arms resting on his knees, like he had all the time in the world.
“Do they all know about the note?” I whispered finally.
Ray tilted his head slightly. “Maybe. Maybe not. I only know about Mr. Zade.”
My stomach twisted.
“I hope he doesn’t tell anyone else,” I said. “Especially not Anna. Or his mother. They’d tear me apart.”
He stood, slowly. Gave me space to decide if I’d rise or stay.
“Come on,” he said gently, extending a hand. “You shouldn’t be alone like this. Not on your wedding night.”
Wedding night? That's true.
I was sure no one's wedding night had looked like this, like a dreadful memory. This was something I didn't even wish would not happen.
I stared at his hand for a moment… then took it.
“I’ve been assigned to stay in your room tonight. Four guards are posted at the front. Two more of my boys will be up on the balcony with me.”
I stiffened.
He noticed.
“They’re women,” he said quickly. “I just call everyone ‘my boys’ out of habit.”
Relief loosened my chest.
I walked into the bathroom, needing a moment alone.
Even in my sadness, I couldn’t ignore how stunning it was.
The marble floors were like frozen clouds, white streaked with grey. A gold-framed mirror glowed above the vanity, warm lights flattering everything they touched. The freestanding bathtub looked carved from porcelain dreams, and the thick rug under my feet made it feel like stepping into luxury itself. Towels were folded with satin bows. Everything perfect.
But I wasn’t.
I approached the vanity, ran my hand along the cool countertop. The girl in the mirror looked like a stranger—tired eyes, face blotchy from crying, but surrounded by a world that didn’t belong to her.
I whispered to my reflection, “Just one night. Get through one night.”
But I knew the truth.
This life wasn’t going to be a quiet storm I could wait out.
This was war.
The next morning
Sunlight spilled through sheer curtains, too graceful for how I felt waking up. My eyes blinked against the golden flood. The bed beneath me was too soft. The sheets smelled like lavender and wealth.
I sat up slowly. The only sounds were distant birds and the faint buzz of morning wind.
Two shadows moved on the balcony—the female guards.
Ray was gone. Or maybe just out of sight.
I reached for my phone.
A single message blinked on the screen:
"We'd be going to my office by 10 a.m. —Zade."
No good morning. No warmth. Just an order.
I tossed the phone aside with a sigh. My body felt heavy, but I forced myself up.
The walk-in closet greeted me like a boutique—clothes I didn’t choose, tagged with prices that could buy my old apartment three times over.
I got dressed slowly, trying not to think too much. Then came a knock, I unlocked the door, there was Anna, in her grey suit, and shining dark red lipstick.