CHAPTER 3
"Good morning, Mrs. Cross!" A cheerful voice startled me awake. I blinked up, my vision still foggy with sleep.
"Annabelle? What are you doing here? I'm still sleeping." My voice was hoarse as I turned my head to check the time.
She was already sweeping through the room like a whirlwind, throwing open the curtains and bringing in her cleaning supplies. "It's 9:00 a.m., ma'am. Mr. Cross said I should come and wake you." She didn’t pause as she bustled around, wiping down surfaces and rearranging things at random.
I groaned quietly. Now this man was controlling even my sleep schedule. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Anna kept moving around the room while I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through the flood of wedding congratulations. I tapped out a few obligatory replies, but my mind wasn't focused on them. It was back in that dark room, on the chair, with the chains and the blood.
I glanced at Anna, debating whether I could trust her. I had to find out something.
"Hey, Anna. That room at the end of the hallway... what's it for?" I asked casually, keeping my eyes locked on her, searching for any flicker of recognition, anything that would prove that the man I married was dangerous.
She paused for just a brief moment, barely noticeable, before answering. "I'm not sure, but I think it's empty, ma'am." She looked directly at me when she said it. Her face was calm, too calm.
I didn’t completely believe her. But something told me she wasn’t lying, either. Or maybe she just didn’t know.
"Do you mind telling me why you're asking?" she added, her tone still polite as she resumed scrubbing at an already spotless surface. I forced out a light laugh, looking away to hide my discomfort. "I'm an instrument player, piano, to be precise. I just wanted to know where to put it before I bring it from my old house."
My stomach clenched at my own words. Old house. I didn't even have a home anymore. No house, no father. Just this gilded cage.
Anna, thankfully, didn't press. "I'll ask one of the guys to sort some space for you." I managed a smile at her kindness. "Thank you, Anna."
I stood and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. As the cold water hit my face, my thoughts spun back to that room. The chair. The blood. I couldn't just let it go. Not when I was sleeping under the same roof where something so dark had happened.
Later, I found myself standing at the doorway again. Staring. Debating. Do I open it? Or turn around and pretend I never saw anything? I reached for the handle and turned it. Locked.
My brows knitted together. Locked? But last night, it had been left slightly open.
"I'd leave that alone if I were you." I jumped and whipped around. Tyson, the same man from last night, stood at the top of the stairwell, hands shoved into his pockets, watching me with that unreadable smile.
"I didn't see you there," I stammered, my heart pounding. "I was just... taking a tour. There's nothing much." His smile widened, easy and warm, but something about it made my skin prickle.
"I figured we didn't get a proper introduction yesterday. Name's Tyson." His voice was smooth, his grin almost dazzling. I blinked, momentarily thrown off by how kind he seemed, so different from Dan's coldness. "I'm Emerald," I finally managed. "Sorry, you just... You look a bit like Dan."
"Yeah, I get that a lot." He chuckled. "Cute name. Welcome to the family, Emerald." Before I could react, he pulled me into a firm and warm embrace, smelling faintly of expensive cologne.
I smiled despite myself, inhaling the scent. "Thank you," I murmured as I pulled away. But I couldn't stop myself. I needed answers. "So... how are you and Dan related, exactly?"
Tyson's smile brightened. "Dan's my big brother. Well, stepbrother, only two years apart." He shrugged like it was nothing, but his eyes stayed fixed on me, shining with that same radiant charm that both comforted and unsettled me all at once.
"Now I understand," I said with a light chuckle, praying he wouldn't press me to explain. Tyson chuckled softly, too, but stayed quiet, his eyes lingering on me in that way that made my skin heat and my pulse stutter. He was observing me too closely.
"We should get downstairs," he finally said, breaking the moment. "You need to eat before they clear everything away. If you miss it, you'll have to wait until lunch." I nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse to look away, and followed him down the hall.
When we reached the dining room, the table was already empty. The staff moved silently, collecting the last of the dishes and carting them back to the kitchen. "So I missed breakfast? Just like that?" I asked, half-laughing, though the absurdity of living by someone else's eating schedule made my stomach twist.
"It's Dan's idea. Strict timing. It sucks," Tyson muttered, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of real sympathy on his face. His eyes softened as he turned to me. "We could go into town, grab something to eat. I haven't eaten either, so I could drive you."
He looked at me then, looked, and the pleading in his gaze made my heart trip over itself. "No, please, you don't have to go through all that trouble for me," I stammered, my cheeks burning. I couldn't remember the last time someone had offered me something so simple, so normal.
"It's no trouble. I want to. Please... let me," he replied. His voice was gentle, coaxing, and for a moment, we stood there, caught in an invisible thread that pulled tight between us. I swallowed hard and looked away, snapping myself back to reality.
"Okay. Let me just change into something nicer before we go." I turned quickly, eager to put some distance between us, but he reached out and caught my hand.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges. My breath caught, and for a wild moment, I wanted to scream at him, at myself, at this whole tangled mess.
"Okay," I whispered, barely trusting my voice.
We walked to his car in silence, but inside, my thoughts were a storm. Guilt clawed at me with every step. I was beginning to like my husband’s stepbrother. This was wrong. Yet, every time Tyson looked at me, I felt that familiar flicker of something dangerous and electric.
As he pulled onto the road, his voice broke the silence. "So... what did my brother offer you in exchange for your hand in marriage?" My head snapped toward him, and shock flared in my chest. Does he know?
But Tyson chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm joking. Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn't mean to insult you." I forced a smile and nodded, choosing silence over risk. I had signed an NDA. I couldn't let anything slip, not to Tyson, not to anyone. Dan would find out, and I wasn't ready to start that war.
Tyson's car slowed. "We're here."
I glanced up at the cozy little coffee shop, and relief flooded me; it felt like neutral ground. "I won't be eating in. Can we order to-go? And then you can just drop me back at the house?" I unbuckled my seatbelt before he could argue.
Honestly, the thought of sitting across from him, feeling this... pull, was too much. I barely knew him, and yet everything about this felt dangerous. "That's fine. I was heading back anyway," he said easily.
But then his next words landed heavily in the small space between us.
"Wait, you're staying with us?" I asked, heart thudding painfully in my chest. He laughed softly. "No. I visit a lot, but I rent an apartment a few blocks away. Why? You sound nervous."
"N-No. It's nothing," I mumbled, forcing my hands to stay still in my lap.
God, if he lived with us, I think I'd lose my mind.
We ordered our coffees and made small talk, meaningless chatter about the weather, the town, and music. It was the kind of conversation strangers use to fill silences. Yet, even then, Tyson's warmth and easy charm wrapped around me like a net, and I hated how much I liked it.
On the drive back, he suddenly pulled up in front of a tall, sleek building.
"This is our family company," he said, reaching into the backseat to grab a thick stack of papers. "I need to drop these off for Dan. Want to come inside and take a look around?"
I recoiled instinctively. "No, thanks. I'll wait in the car." He raised an eyebrow at me.
"Come on. One day, you might be in charge of everyone in there."
I shook my head more firmly this time. No amount of persuasion would get me to step into Dan's domain.
"You wouldn't be seeing Dan; you'd be taking a tour, and I'd be your guide." His voice took on a coaxing tone again, smooth and persuasive. He reached over and lightly tugged at my hand. I stiffened but felt myself caving in, knowing he wouldn't let it go until I agreed.
"Okay," I sighed, my voice small.
We walked into the building together. It towered at least twenty floors, with people in sharp suits moving briskly in every direction. The sheer scale of it all made my chest tighten.
So, this is why Dan is the way he is, controlling, ruthless. He has to be to manage something like this.
Tyson's hand hovered near the small of my back as he led me toward an elevator.
"Let's check my office first," he said. "I mostly work from home, but I want to make sure no one has messed with my stuff." I nodded, but as we stepped inside, my heart began to race.
I wasn't sure why, but deep down, something told me that I was about to see something I wouldn't like. My heart started beating wildly as soon as Tyson mentioned we were heading to Dan's office.
"You can sit here and wait for me if you'd rather not come inside," he said as he ushered me to a chair next to an assistant's office. I was about to nod and sit down when I heard something.
We exchanged wide-eyed glances as groans and moans echoed from the boss's office in the middle of the day. I marched straight toward the office, but Tyson grabbed my arm to stop me.
"I just want to see," I insisted, yanking my arm from his grip and continuing my walk.
"It's not worth it, Emerald," he said.
I knew it wasn't worth it, but I needed to see with my own eyes; I had to know what he was doing behind my back. I yanked the office door open and felt my breath hitch as my eyes took in the scene before me. I didn’t know what I expected, but I felt myself fuming as I locked eyes with him.
He quickly separated himself from the woman he had pinned face down on his desk, hastily grabbing his trousers, which were around his ankles. A shocked expression crossed his face before it morphed into annoyance.
“Leave my office,” he snapped