“Eyes.”
I look up, forcing my gaze not to travel to the man at my father’s right, but then my father steps aside, and suddenly the man is before me.
He’s handsome, tall and trim, and wears a smile, one that meets the corners of his pretty green eyes.
“Hello,” he says so softly that the muscles in my body relax.
I swallow. “Hello.”
His gaze falls to the dirt on my fingers, and I quickly hide them behind my back.
He glances beyond me at my garden. “You enjoy flowers?”
I push my hair over my shoulders as I nod, and his strong stare follows the movement.
“Then I will give you all the flowers in the world.” His smile spreads and he turns to my father. “You have yourself a deal, Graven.” He hands him an envelope. “You’ll find your other daughters’ locations inside.”
My eyes widen and I take a half a step forward. “I have a sister?” Hope, if I had to guess, is what expands in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
But the hard, empty glare of my father swings my way, and it’s gone as quick as it comes.
I freeze, shuffle back, and lower my head.
He scoffs, turning to the man. “Walk out with her, and you don’t get to bring her back. She’ll be your burden from here on out, Brayshaw.”
Brayshaw?
Is that his name?
“No,” the man responds gently as he steps toward me, his fingers sliding beneath my chin, bringing my eyes to his. He smiles. “She’ll be my savior, and one day, my bride. Speak to or of her like this again, Graven, and I’ll be forced to make sure you regret it.”
My heart beats crazy as I try and make sense of their words, but all that clicks is ‘bride.’
He bends so we’re eye level and grips my hands in his. “Never lower your eyes when a man’s meet yours, never look away.” His gaze roams mine. “Never cower, sweet girl. Your eyes, a deep, daunting… perfect brown, are your power, and I’m going to teach you how to use them.”
Not five minutes later, I was in a car for the first time, with nothing but the clothes on my back and shoes on my feet.
Mero had given up Raven and her mother’s location, something Donley Graven had been searching for since the day her mother disappeared, and in exchange, my father gave him me.
Just like that, I went from the worthless, ignored, ghostly girl in the gated garden to a golden puppet, the highest valued, most precious tool in a stranger of a man’s world.
I developed early and never looked my age, always older. I never had a chance to play with other children when I was young, though I knew more existed, the sounds of their laughter echoed on the other side of the wall, and then there was the boy who dared to look beyond it. Because of this, I was too mature for my own good, nothing but guards and a tutor to learn from, and once I turned eight, I was given a television.
Mero must have seen it in my eyes at ten, a child who never lived as one, a girl desperate for more.
He was proud of his new ‘property,’ and quickly, I became his pawn, did as he asked, found ways to trick who he instructed until secrets spilled from the mouths of some of the most powerful men he could find. Men who held high positions, men who were forced to leave Brayshaw, traitors to the family and pure outsiders. Jobs for purpose and some simply for payment.
We had ruses, ways of gaining the truth and I always wanted to give him what he asked for, so I was extremely inventive. I studied people, trained myself to see more than the average eye, hear what wasn’t said. It became a game, something to focus on, a way to earn affection I came to crave.
Secrets were my purpose.
I was blackmail.
It wasn’t until I turned my back on the man who freed me from the prison I wasn’t aware I was living in that my life changed.
I know I’m strong, I know I can handle this place, but I want more than that.
I can’t go back to being the little girl I once was, completely dispensable.
Knowledge, it gave me purpose, power.
It’s ironic, how the only thing to ever offer a shred of color is the exact reason my world’s been painted gray.
Holding onto secrets in a place like this has done the opposite of what I’ve understood them to.
I hold no leverage, only lies.
I feel no pride, I’m buried in shame.
I hate myself more than I hate the man who molded me this way.
How weak you are to become what someone else asks of you?
I can be different here. An asset instead of a threat.