AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Or even more likely, he made a deal with the devil to pursue his own goals. Ones I have no interest delving into. The more I knew, the harder it would be to get out.
“How have you found your first week in Manhattan?” Connor asks as he lights a cigar and takes a seat at the head of the room. Far more regal than Slater because he is a man who is used to wealth and achieving what he wants.
“Quiet.” Is all I say. They put me in a shithole apartment with no further instruction. I suspected I was being watched, but nobody approached me. The only interaction I had with them was here. I didn’t even know what I was back in New York for. But I know better than to question my part to play. I know what is at stake. More importantly—who.
He casually smirks as if reading in between the lines of everything that goes unsaid. “I have a gift for you.”
My eyebrows furrow. Gifts were a scary thing, considering all the attachments they came with. But he holds nothing out for me.
“I’m sure you’re bored with all that time on your hands. I’ve been able to make an agreement with a friend of mine who has available office space for you. You can continue your matchmaking for the wealthy here,” he says, kicking up a benevolent smile. My teeth grind because I can sense the amusement he has in his new role. As if I’m nothing but a pet receiving such luxuries. But I also wonder if this is from his doing or someone higher up. And why?
“Apparently, there are many elite singles in New York searching for love.” He tries not to laugh as if the notion is ridiculous. And I can imagine a douchebag like this has never fallen in love. I didn’t particularly believe in true love either, but it does make a fortune. “It’ll be a good way to push you into society again since you’ve been away for so long.”
No. No. No. No. I try not to show my disgust. Why are they trying to put me back in high society here? It will only make it harder for me to remain in the dark. The last thing I want is for people who know me to approach me because I don’t want them being caught up in this web in which I’d found myself in.
And why have they given me an office?
When I gave up ballet dancing in Russia, I found a knack for matchmaking for the wealthy. It’d become the only source of ‘freedom’ I had. I clung to it as my salvation; it was the only moment of reprieve in the reality of my chained world.
So, I’m surprised when Connor puts it back on the table, but is it a part of their plan to “reintroduce me into society”? My family is wealthy and has mild influence but nothing compared to the most recognizable names within the city. So why go to this extreme?
I swallow the lump in my throat, realizing I’ve been quiet for too long.
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say. I know better than to ask questions.
He seems pleased with my response because he smiles as he takes another puff of his cigar. His gaze appraises me carefully from top to bottom, and a cold shudder runs down my body. “On top of that, you will accompany me tomorrow evening for an event. I’ll have the appropriate attire sent your way.”
My body freezes. He wants me to step back into high society when I haven’t even replied to my own family for years. Was this a joke?
He raises an eyebrow as if daring me to protest. Now, I’m truly unsure whether these orders come from higher up or from him. They’ll put me in a shithole of an apartment but adorn me for an event in a world that I haven’t been a part of for five years.
Again, I try to ensure my facial expression doesn’t change as I nod in agreeance, accepting my fate.
His smile remains, and I refuse to avert my gaze. “Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow evening then. And make sure you’re back here at the same time next week, or you know we’ll find you. And it won’t be fun. Well, for you.” His expression twists arrogantly.
I nod curtly before turning to leave for the door with calm contempt.
My heart is pounding, and I try to take steady breaths, counting each and every step to the door. The fear that he might call me back, and I’ll never see the light of day again, is a chilling thought that grips me. I’m terrified that my ‘protection’ is soon to run out.
I keep my iron clad composure because it’s the only thing that’s kept me alive for this long, but I refuse to let it break me.
My brain rattles with questions, but I’d learned a long time ago to not struggle against the restraints and web I’d gotten myself into.
High society.
Matchmaking.
I can do this.
I continue with one foot and then the next, doing my best to harden my steely resolve. It doesn’t matter what they throw my way, as long as I stay in line—I’ll survive.
4
DMITRI
One week ago…
I throw back the whisky in an attempt to kill the pain. But the dazzling lights and acrobatic performances above do nothing to help ease the splitting migraine. Something I’ve been suffering from and failing to conquer over the last few months. I try my hardest to ignore it as I scout the members of New York’s high society as they parade their flamboyant demeanor. It’s expected of me to attend such events as the CEO of Creighton Technologies. And it was the one thing I wish my grandfather continued to represent on the company’s behalf, so I didn’t have to. However, it didn’t appeal to him as much as the greenery of golf courses nowadays.
