Chapter 4 - THE HOUSE BEYOND THE IRON GATES
I stayed at the safe house for four days.
Not because Vincent ordered me to.
Because the police investigation was ongoing, and I didn't feel safe returning to my apartment.
Vincent visited only when I agreed.
He brought updates.
Information.
And once, a box of pastries from a bakery near my office.
I stared at it.
“Are you bribing me?”
He smiled faintly.
“Trying to apologize.”
I opened the box.
“Croissants don't fix kidnapping-adjacent behavior.”
Vincent laughed.
“No.”
I took one anyway.
On the fifth day, Vincent asked whether I'd like to move to a more secure property.
I hesitated.
“Where?”
“Outside the city.”
He gave me the address.
Showed me photographs.
Explained the security arrangements.
And told me I could bring Claire.
I agreed.
The estate stood beyond tall iron gates.
Stone walls.
A long driveway.
Gardens.
A lake.
I stared through the car window.
“Subtle.”
Vincent smiled.
“I've been told.”
Inside, the house was beautiful.
But what surprised me most was the library.
Floor-to-ceiling shelves.
A fireplace.
Large windows overlooking the gardens.
I walked inside.
Vincent watched from the doorway.
“You like books?”
I turned.
“More than most people.”
He smiled.
“Understandable.”
I studied him.
For the first time, he looked less like a dangerous stranger.
More like a man who had forgotten how to live outside his own reputation.
That evening, we ate dinner together.
Not because we had to.
Because I asked.
Vincent told me about his childhood.
His father.
His brother.
The family business.
I listened.
Then asked:
“Do you ever wish you had a different life?”
He went quiet.
For a long moment, he stared at his glass.
Then whispered:
“Every day.”
I looked at him.
And something inside me shifted.
Not trust.
Not love.
May you like
But curiosity.
Because I had never met a man who seemed so powerful and so trapped at the same time.
