Share

Chapter 2

Author: Tabitha
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-19 05:26:33

The days after blurred together into one long stretch of misery. Ayra caught no sight of either her sister or her father during the next three days, secluded as she was in her corner of their mansion. 

The absence of Lisbeth she could deal with - her elder sister was not the most likable of people - but the fact that her father had all but abandoned her twisted her insides in hate and loathing.

Occasionally her thoughts turned to Lucian and her impending... Wedding, as it were. 

She also couldn’t stop replaying the cold certainty in his voice, the way he had claimed her without a second thought, as if her life was nothing more than another business deal to him. 

It terrified her more than she cared to admit, and while she didn't hold much of an idealized view of her marriage, she did not want it to be... This. 

She'd spent hours upon hours poring over the contract, studying every word, every clause futilely, just because she refused to sit on her ass and cry like a little girl. 

The legal jargon wasn't particularly dense, hence a major in Liberal arts like she could understand that while Lucian did not own her on paper, and their marriage was mutually beneficial to both the Cyrus family and hers, it did little to secure her autonomy or rights in the sham of a marriage. 

It would be a breach of the contract if they divorced each other within twelve months - hells, she had no right to serve Lucian divorce papers for whatever reason!

The document bound her to him—her life, her freedom, everything she had was now under his control. 

She combed through the fine print late at night four days later, eyes burning from lack of sleep, out of a lack of something to do. Sitting still felt dumb and doing anything else felt like the height of unproductivity.

Every inch of her being screamed at her to find a way out; to break free from the approaching gloom of a future that was becoming Lucian’s plaything. 

The 28th was coming far too quickly and the thought of what awaited her on that day and after was enough to make her stomach churn in fear and revulsion.

She tossed the contract into a corner and ran a hand through her hair. To God, she needed to sleep, but thoughts of marrying the Director sent shivers down her spine every few minutes. She had only slept intermittently in the past four days, her waking hours almost always heralded by tears. 

"Jars," she called, her voice raspy from days of sobbing. "Play me some music."

The sound system in her room gave a small beep as it was booted on. The soothing melody of a sad blues song began to play from its speakers. 

"Shuffle," Ayra commanded and the upbeat tune immediately replaced the previous song.

Ayra closed her eyes, trying to lull herself into sleep when the lyrics of the song's chorus registered in her brain and she was jerked awake instantly.

~Chase me, Chase me~

~And I'll run to the world's end~

~Where the skies are blue and your eyes can't reach~

She shot to her feet, a sudden surge of adrenaline-boosting her as she reached for the contract and read it in its entirety once more. 

She was through in minutes - her version of the contract did not have many terms - but she read it once more, feverishly this time, just to make sure.

Five minutes later she pumped her fists in the air, a cheerful cry of victory finding its way out of her throat. 

"Yes! Yes! Damn yes!"

Her father was gone, having all but abandoned her the moment she’d signed herself away, and she was left with nothing but the sharp edge of betrayal and the weight of her bleak future.

But now—now there was a chance.

Ayra’s pulse quickened as realization sank in. There was no explicit mention of confinement, no written obligation to stay until Lucian came for her. 

Even better, there was no repercussion on the deal between the Cyrus family and hers if she somehow fell off the face of the earth. It was a rather glaring loophole. How had he not noticed this? 

No, how had her father not noticed it? He was easily the smartest man she knew. Or, perhaps, had he known all along and simply expected her to be too terrified to act? Ayra chuckled with schadenfreude. Oh, she was not afraid to run. 

Even better, if she left now, she might be able to slip away before anyone even realized she was gone. The thought sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins, the first spark of hope she’d felt in... days!

The 28th.

Six days.

He most certainly had not given her that deadline out of generosity. 

But he had underestimated her. Or, perhaps, did not believe his 'property' could grow legs and run. She cackled to herself. 

Ayra paced about her room, her mind spinning with possibilities. Where could she go? Who could she turn to? 

The answers were bleak—she had no real connections, no friends who wouldn’t ask questions, no... 'family' willing to help. 

Her father had made sure of that when he sold her off like some kind of asset. Like a fucking item.

She clenched her fists at the thought, the jagged spikes of betrayal and hurt that had been lodged in her heart fusing slowly into anger. 

But she took a deep breath and pushed the emotions aside. It was not the time for it quite yet. 

She didn’t need anyone. Not now. All she needed was to be smart, careful, and meticulous in her steps going forward. 

Ayra shoved the contract into the briefcase it came with, her hands trembling, her mind racing. She needed a plan. 

.....

Good plans didn't come easy, Ayra found out by the next morning. Good plans were a bitch to come up with. 

She'd noticed that there had been an increase in the house guards in the past few weeks, and now she suspected it was due to the deal between her father and Lucian. 

Having been surrounded by security personnel her whole life, she could spot more than one or two suspicious figures within the roster of people patrolling the mansion. 

They were more heavily armed than the type Ayra was used to, their eyes steely and steps more akin to professional thugs than bodyguards. 

They looked just as likely to put a bullet in Ayra as they were to keep thieves out. She could easily infer that they would not simply let her waltz out of the house. 

She paced the length of her room, her gaze flicking to the small bag in the corner of her room from time to time. If she was going to do this, it would have to be tonight. No waiting, no second-guessing. 

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling at it in frustration as she realised she couldn't do it alone. She needed someone to move her out; public transport was off the table as her father could track her down too easily, and she didn't know how to drive.  

There was no helping it. If she stayed, Lucian would come, and when he did, it would be too late. 

Grabbing the bag, she began tossing in essentials: clothes, toothbrush, some cash - anything she could carry that wouldn’t weigh her down. 

She took a moment to buy a train ticket bound for a night journey to throw her father off, backed up her important files and photos to her memory card and popped it out. 

She hesitated over the next part but eventually broke the phone and tossed it into the trash. It had cost a pretty penny. Now she couldn't go back due to cold feet. 

The plan took shape as Ayra moved around her room and she decided to move that very night. 

She felt the weight of her decision press down on her with every passing minute, the nagging doubt gnawing at her. 

Running from someone like Lucian wasn’t as simple as walking out the door and disappearing. He was the director of THE fucking Consortium. He had resources - people, connections - things that could track her down no matter where she went. 

And, despite her father's recent pathetic showing, she knew he was terrifyingly smart. He would look for her. And if she messed up even once, he would find her. 

But Ayra wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

At exactly 9 pm that night she slipped out the door, the hallway of the building eerily quiet. The moon was not out that night, and the darkness outside felt like both a blessing and a curse. 

As she descended the stairs, her heart thudded louder with every step. This was it. She was doing this. She was going to disappear.

She walked boldly past the few guards she met within the house without bothering to explain herself. Their gaze on her was sharp and gauging, but Ayra disregarded them and strode for the garden exit. 

When the door leading to the garden came into view, she went down a side corridor and jogged up the side stairs to the second floor. She came across a window with an overhang from the first floor right beneath it as well as a hedge directly beneath. 

She scanned the area and spotted a guard facing away from the house and towards the fence. Ayra breathed out and stepped out the window, slid silently down the overhang, and dropped quietly behind the hedge. 

The guard turned, alerted by the thump of her feet, and she lay flat on the ground while his flashlight scanned dialleddge. Soon he lost interest and she got to her feet and crept forward. 

She knew the house like the back of her hand; she didn't believe she could avoid their eyes if she truly tried. 

.....

The cool night air hit her like a shock when she stepped outside, the city’s pulse thrumming in the distance. She kept her head down, blending into the crowd of pedestrians moving down the sidewalk. 

Her heart pounded fiercely in joy as she made her way down the street, her lips threatening to split apart from the urge to smile. 

She had done it. She'd escaped. While a guard had seen her in the end, they hadn't been able to stop her before she scaled the wall. But it was alright. The train ticket should throw her father off her tail for at least a day. 

She walked quickly and pushed her way into the first phone booth she found. 

She had planned to walk until she found one, but with the weather being in the middle of winter, the night was far too cold for it, hence she had hailed a taxi and drove for almost an hour before getting to where she was. 

Fingers trembling, she dialed the only person she felt she could trust. The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?" Sarah, her best friend, answered. 

"Hi. Sarah, it's Ayra calling."

“What? Ayra? Is everything okay?” 

Ayra took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to get out of the city. Can you help me?”

"What? Wait, Why?"

"Just... I'll explain later. I just need your help."

"Alright, where are you? I'll come pick you up."

Ayra searched the street and found a sign not far from her. 

"Winston Street. I'm in the phone booth right now."

"Alright. Just sit tight. I'll be there in... Thirty minutes tops."

"Thank you." 

Ayra hung up and sighed. 

Twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the booth. 

"That call was a bad choice. Not the call itself but who you called," the stranger said. 

While she was unable to see the person clearly through the frosted glass, she would recognize the voice anywhere. It was her father.  

The first plan is done. 

She always knew Sarah was a bitch. 

Related chapters

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 3

    The sleek black car hummed quietly as it sped along the highway, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across Ayra’s face. She sat stiffly in the backseat, her arms crossed tightly, eyes staring blankly out the window. Her father sat beside her, his face set in a stern, unreadable expression.For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was suffocating, thick with unspoken anger and confusion. “I don’t understand why you did this,” her father finally broke the silence, his voice low and filled with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you’ve risked? What you’ve put at stake?”Ayra didn’t respond at first. She continued staring out of the window, her heart pounding as she tried to contain her emotions. She clenched her fists in her lap, her knuckles turning white as a mix of shame and frustration churned in her gut. Getting caught was all part of her plan, yes, but confronting her father was still decidedly uncomfortable. She thought it would be Lisbeth who

    Last Updated : 2024-10-19
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 4

    The cold hit Ayra hard as she was dragged back into the mansion, but it was nothing compared to the chill in her chest.Her father’s iron grip on her arm, his men trailing like shadows, and the oppressive silence, crushed her.She didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. She wanted them to believe she'd spent all her fight in her escape attempt. Now she was a shell of the determination she once carried. The mansion loomed in the dark like a silent judge. Its halls, so familiar, felt foreign and sterile.She barely registered her father’s clipped, furious whispers to the guards. All she could feel was the weight pressing down on her. Oh, she knew the escape attempt would have failed - she had planned for it to fail, after all, as her father was simply too cunning a fox that a singular attempt would see her free - but perhaps deep down inside her, she had wished he would have let her go. Just... turned a blind eye. The days blurred into a suffocating haze of monotony. Ayra’s room was no longer her

    Last Updated : 2024-11-20
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 5

    Lisbeth leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed in that haughty way Ayra had come to despise.She looked immaculate, of course, her dress tailored to perfection, every strand of hair in its rightful place.Ayra, in her hastily thrown on clothes and with an aura of depression she couldn’t shake, felt a fresh wave of resentment.Lisbeth had always been good at making her feel small without even trying - or maybe she was trying, all the time.Anyway, the point stood; Ayra did not like Lisbeth one bit.“I see captivity hasn’t done much for your style, little sis,” Lisbeth began, her tone dripping with mock sympathy."Honestly, I thought you’d at least attempt to look presentable. But I suppose it’s hard to care when you're only so so.”Ayra clenched her fists, the nails biting into her palms. Don’t react, she chanted within her mind. Don’t give her anything. She’s waiting for you to snap. As she always did. But Lisbeth wasn’t one to settle for silence. She pushed off the doorfram

    Last Updated : 2024-11-21
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 6

    Ayra’s heart sank. “You... what?”“Oh, come on,” Lisbeth rolled her eyes. “It’s not that shocking. And I simply must tell you, Lucian was a dream to work with. A man like that? He saw the opportunity right away. All I had to do was paint you as someone who could be… easily shaped.”"Lisbeth, I..." Ayra struggled to find words. "Do you truly hate me so much?"“Of course,” Lisbeth said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And by the way, someone had to make the hard decisions around here, and we all know you weren’t going to. Honestly, you should be thanking me. If it weren’t for my little nudges, you’d still be floundering around with absolutely no direction in life.”“Direction?” Ayra spat. “You mean being sold off like some business asset? That’s your idea of a direction?”Lisbeth waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. No one sold you off. Don't make it sound so horrible.It’s securing the family’s future. And let’s face it—you were always the weak link.

    Last Updated : 2024-11-22
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 7

    “Five minutes,” Eleanor said with a faint sigh, shaking her head as she glanced at the closed door. “Lisbeth hasn’t changed, has she? Always in control, always the gatekeeper.”Ayra snorted, bitterness lacing her voice. “Control seems to be her motto, isn’t it?”Eleanor gave her a small, wry smile and walked toward the bed where Ayra sat. She perched lightly on the edge, smoothing out her skirt. Her perfume was subtle, a blend of lavender and cedarwood that reminded Ayra of gentler times. Times when her mother was still alive. “You look pale, darling,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Lisbeth’s words have a way of doing that to people, don’t they?”Ayra let out a bitter laugh, sitting back down on the edge of her bed. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.” Unstated was the fact that it still stung, and her visit had both demoralised Ayra and left her emotionally vulnerable. Eleanor sighed. The bed dipped slightly under her weight, and she reached out to brush a stray strand of hai

    Last Updated : 2024-11-23
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 8

    The door closed with a dull thud, and the room felt suffocatingly silent once more. Ayra sat still on the edge of the bed, her hands resting limply in her lap. Her aunt's words replayed in her mind, looping endlessly like a haunting melody. Perhaps her aunt's offer should have sparked something in her - a flicker of hope, a glimmer of possibility. But instead, it only left her feeling heavier, like another impossible choice had been laid at her feet. She didn't feel brave. She didn't feel clever. Because she knew that compared to either Lisbeth or their father, she fell far short. The thought of escape was a tantalizing fantasy, but every time she tried to imagine it, the walls of her reality closed tighter. Even if Eleanor could provide a way out, Ayra doubted her own ability to take it. She was constantly watched, her every move scrutinized by Lucians guards or her fathers spies. There was no privacy, no freedom, not even a single moment to breathe without feeling the weight

    Last Updated : 2024-11-24
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 9

    The dinner table was quiet. Her father hadn’t joined her tonight, an absence she welcomed with relief. Recently he had insisted on having at least one meal at the dining room and Ayra has designated that time to dinner. Usually, it was a silent and uncomfortable affair but tonight both he and Lisbeth were blessedly absent. Lucian’s men, stationed in the shadows of the room, observed her silently as she picked at her meal. Her appetite was gone, the tension in her chest rendering the savory dishes bland and lifeless.Her hand brushed against the paper hidden in her pocket. She had carried it all day, its weight more mental than physical. She knew she needed help, but was reluctant to accept it. The serving maid entered quietly - a different girl from the one that afternoon - her presence going disregarded by anyone else. Ayra glanced up and caught her eye. The woman hardly reacted and placed a fresh plate on the table, a thin layer of steam curling from the baked dessert in its

    Last Updated : 2024-11-25
  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 10 - A Wedding for Ayra Russo (1)

    The hours slipped by like sand through her fingers. Her isolation was suffocating as always, yet she clung to the small lifeline Eleanor had given her. Her aunt’s messages arrived sporadically, their delivery concealed in the meticulous work of the maid. A folded napkin, a hollowed-out bread roll, a ribbon tied too tightly around a gift - her messages came in the details, as it were, and Ayra simply had to admire the woman's level of innovation. Eleanor’s plans for the escape were detailed and intricate in their design. She had secured a safehouse - somewhere Ayra could be hidden for a while once she made her escape. It was an ostentatious villa in the middle of the city, but Eleanor and Ayra both agreed that it was best to hide right beneath their noses until Ayra could leave the city entirely. The city’s roads were mapped, the hidden back alleys and lesser-known paths highlighted on a series of papers Eleanor had sent. Ayra had made sure to burn them all - they were just there

    Last Updated : 2024-11-26

Latest chapter

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 31 - Lucian (6)

    It seemed that, finally, she had a moment of peace. It was ironic, actually. She had never felt safe these past few days. Not at the cabin, where the thought of her father finding her occupied her nights and a faint anxiety that her hideout had been found suffusing her days. Yet to find peace with Lucian of all people. What a joke. The moment of peace didn’t last long. A soft knock on the door startled her, but before she could respond, Lucian pushed it open. He leaned casually against the doorframe, holding a deck of cards she’d noticed earlier in the living room. He had changed as well, now wearing a plain white t-shirt that clung to his lean frame and a pair of dark gray sweatpants that looked oddly casual on him. Lucian's hair was damp, suggesting he had showered as well, and the sharp demeanor he usually exuded seemed to have softened.“Didn’t think you’d wait for permission?” Ayra said dryly, eyeing him.Lucian gave a soft smile, holding up the cards and shaking them. “T

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 30 - Lucian (5)

    "Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt," he said quietly. His words hit Ayra harder than she expected, leaving her momentarily speechless. She wanted to argue, to push him away, to remind him that he was the reason she was running in the first place. But the words wouldn’t come. Not when his touch was so careful. His voice so steady, and his actions so at odds, with the image of him she’d built in her head. With the literal monster she had pegged him for. Confused, she remained silent for the remainder of the treatment."All done," Lucian said, sitting back on his heels as he finished wrapping her arm in a neat bandage.Ayra glanced down at his work, then back at him. "Thank you," she mumbled. Then wanted to hit herself upside the head. Why mumble the thanks?!Lucian simply nodded, standing to return the first-aid kit to its place. Ayra watched him move, her mind racing with emotions she couldn’t quite name. She hated that she felt grateful to him. She hated the way his

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 29 - Lucian (4)

    When they got away from the road, Lucian put Ayra on her feet. The dense foliage offered some respite from the open road, but Ayra’s lungs burned as she struggled to keep up with Lucian’s long strides. He slowed only slightly, his hand gripping her wrist to ensure she didn’t fall behind.After what felt like eternity they emerged onto a narrow dirt road. Ayra doubled over, gasping for breath, but Lucian didn’t let her rest for long.“We've arrived,” he said, pointing to a dilapidated gas station a short distance away. Its flickering neon sign cast an eerie glow over the otherwise desolate area.Ayra followed him silently, her legs trembling with exhaustion. He was all but carrying her once more, honestly. The gas station was quiet, fluorescent lights overhead casting a harsh glare over the aisles of dusty merchandise. Lucian led her toward the back, keeping a careful eye on the door.“You can sit,” he said, gesturing to a worn-out bench near the restrooms.Ayra sank onto the bench

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 28 - Lucian (3) 

    “Who the hell are these people?!” Ayra yelled, her voice raw with unfiltered panic. Lucian didn’t answer immediately, his focus on the cars chasing them. When he finally spoke, his words were clipped. "Funnily enough, I also want to know.” Her hands curled into fists. “They were after me before you showed up! Why?” Lucian glanced at her, his eyes dark, angry. But she felt he wasn't angry at her - at least not right now. “Why don’t you tell me?” The SUV pulled onto a highway, the speedometer climbing as the driver tried to put distance between them and their pursuers. Lucian’s jaw was tight, his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon.The SUV weaved through the traffic at an alarming pace, the hum of the engine growing louder as it accelerated further. Lucian leaned forward, his jaw clenched and his eyes scanning the road ahead. Ayra sat frozen in the backseat, gripping the edge of her seat tightly, the adrenaline coursing through her leaving her both terrified and acutely

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 27 - Lucian (2)

    Grabbing the rungs, she hauled herself up, her palms stinging against the cold, rusty metal.The men reached the base just as she scrambled onto the roof. “Keep going!” she heard one shout, his boots thudding against the ladder as he climbed.Ayra rolled over the edge of the roof just as bullets whizzed past her face and thudded into the chimney beside her. They were shooting at her, and now fear was truly solidifying in her belly. The rooftop offered a temporary reprieve, but it wasn’t enough. Ayra scanned her surroundings, her chest heaving. Another building loomed nearby, its rooftop within jumping distance - if she was lucky.Needless to say, Ayra did not feel lucky. Without giving herself time to second-guess, she sprinted and leapt. For a heart-stopping moment, she was weightless, suspended in the air. Then her feet hit solid ground, the impact jarring her knees.The men weren’t far behind. She could hear their voices, their footsteps, the scrape of their boots on the grave

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 26 - Lucian

    An uneasy sensation prickled at the back of her neck. An unsettling, creeping awareness that she was being watched. She glanced over her shoulder and her breath caught. A man in a dark jacket leaned casually against a lamppost, his face partially obscured by a baseball cap. He looked away when her eyes met his.Ayra’s stomach churned. She tried to tell herself it was paranoia. A side effect of the stress and the high stakes. It didn't work. As she turned another corner, she noticed someone else. Another man, this one in a hoodie, lingering by a newsstand. His gaze followed her for just a moment too long before he pretended to look at a newspaper.Her heart began to race. She quickened her pace, the heels of her boots clicking sharply against the pavement. Her legs carried her toward the parking lot almost on autopilot and as she neared her car, her instincts screamed at her to stop and look. Four men stood by the entrance to the lot, their postures too casual, their eyes too al

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 25 - A Third Party? (3)

    Ayra’s heart pounded in her chest as she walked briskly down the street, the cold wind biting at her face. The encounter with Mr. Landor had left her both frustrated and disappointed. She clutched her coat tighter around herself, her thoughts spiraling.Seeing the veritable lockdown the city was in just to find her, she felt Lucian's determination not to let her slip through his fingers.She had a sinking feeling that her original idea to first lay low and then slip away would not work. Her mother had led her here, but the man she had pinned her hopes on was unwilling to help. Her disguise itched against her scalp, yet she didn’t dare to remove it just yet. She kept her head down, blending into the crowd as best she could, each step toward her car feeling heavier than the last.Every passing figure seemed to glance her way. Every shadow stretched just a little too far for comfort; the hustle and bustle of the street should have been reassuring, but it felt suffocating instead. She

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 24 - A Third Party? (2)

    Ayra hesitated for a long moment before entering the office building. The air felt heavier, the weight of the last few days pressing down on her shoulders. Her nerves acting up while she did her damnedest to calm herself. She adjusted her blond wig, tugged her scarf tighter around her neck, and smoothed her borrowed coat. Her mother’s letter had led her here, but doubt gnawed at her. Would Mr. Landor even remember her mother? Would he even be willing to help her?“Hi,” Ayra greeted, keeping her voice carefully polite. “I need to speak with Mr. Landor. It is urgent.”The young woman behind the desk barely glanced up at her, engrossed as she was in a book as she asked; “Do you have an appointment?”“No, but it’s about a more... personal matter. Please, do tell him it’s from an old friend,” Ayra replied, leaning forward slightly.The receptionist frowned, but perhaps there was something in Ayra’s tone that convinced her to pick up the phone and phone the man's office. After a brief c

  • The Devil's Game   Chapter 23 - A Third Party? (1)

    An hour later, Ayra held a license plate in her hands, turning it over as though its weight could reveal her mother’s intentions. It was wrapped in a protective plastic sleeve, its edges pristine despite its apparent age.The numbers and letters were unfamiliar, but the very sight of it had Ayra marveling at how meticulously her mother had planned for everything eventuality. Every nook and cranny of the quaint cabin had something potentially useful to her stashed away. They had been detailed in her mother's journal, and the least of which was a veritable sack of cash wrapped in plastic. Simon's card was useless now. There was also a fake ID of a blonde haired, blue eyed version of herself, a blonde wig, and blue contacts. She glanced out the window of the cabin at the car she’d rented, its current license plate reflecting the midday sun. Her lips pressed into a firm line as she considered her next move. She wasn’t naive - her mother’s precautions were useful as far as she cou

DMCA.com Protection Status