Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO REFUSED TO BE OWNED
The next morning, I woke in a guest bedroom overlooking Lake Michigan.
I had slept for nine hours.
Dr. Bell had arranged hospital evaluation the night before. Imaging confirmed two bruised ribs without fracture, and I had been discharged with instructions for rest and follow-up.
For the first time since the attack, I could breathe without feeling as though my entire body might collapse.
There was a knock.
“Come in.”
Vincent entered carrying a tray.
Coffee.
Toast.
Scrambled eggs.
I stared.
“Did you make that?”
He looked offended.
“I know how to use a kitchen.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
“No.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
He smiled faintly.
Then placed the tray on the table.
“Dr. Bell says you need to eat.”
I looked at the food.
My stomach growled.
Vincent pretended not to notice.
I appreciated that.
After breakfast, he sat across from me.
“I spoke to an attorney.”
My heart sank.
“Why?”
“To make sure you understand your options.”
I stared.
“Are you trying to hire me?”
“No.”
“Pay me?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
Vincent looked at me.
“Nothing.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Men like you don't do things for nothing.”
His expression changed.
“You're right to be cautious.”
I blinked.
He continued.
“I've spent most of my life making deals. But helping someone who was hurt shouldn't be one.”
I looked down.
“Graham used to say he was helping me.”
Vincent was silent.
“He gave me the job when I was desperate. Then he reminded me every time I disagreed with him.”
I swallowed.
“He made everything feel like a debt.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“Then let me be clear.”
I looked up.
“You owe me nothing. Not gratitude. Not loyalty. Not affection.”
My throat tightened.
“And if I leave?”
“I'll help arrange safe transportation if you want it.”
I stared at him.
For the first time since I'd met him, I believed that perhaps he meant it.
Then I asked the question that had been haunting me.
“What are you going to do with the flash drive?”
Vincent's expression hardened.
“Find out what's on it.”
“And Graham?”
He looked toward the window.
“Graham Doyle has made enemies.”
I swallowed.
“Are you one of them?”
Vincent turned back.
“Not because of you.”
I studied him.
Then nodded.
“Good.”
He looked surprised.
I continued.
“Because I don't want my life to become an excuse for another man to prove how powerful he is.”
Vincent stared.
May you like
Then smiled slowly.
“Neither do I.”
