Authors: Mia Hoddell
“Not my fight? How did you come to that conclusion? You made it my fight when you sold me, Cora. This is your fault not mine, and you only have yourself to blame!” Nick roared, his grip tightening to a new painful intensity.
“I did not sell you. I cut a deal with Rogan and you were collateral damage. I couldn’t help it.”
Even Cora flinched at her words. What she had done to Nick was awful, but it was a necessity if she was going to survive.
“You signed my life away. You ruined my life by forcing me into a god-damned contract that has no loop holes. Not only that, but then you had the audacity to attack me when you escaped Rogan’s mansion last time. That is not collateral damage!”
He didn’t realise he was shaking her fragile body until she let out another low groan.
“You weren’t meant to be a part of the deal. I couldn’t help it. I tried to get you out of it, but there was no way. It was me or you.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You know there was a way out. I did nothing to you but be there and you sold me out, just like your friends have done to you.” His words cut Cora like a knife, slitting her deep.
“You knew too much…you knew my secret…you weren’t meant to survive.” Cora muttered the last line, her jaw tight with anger as she finally admitted the truth she had kept bottled up. He wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.
“What did you just say?” He was shaking her once more, anger flowing out of him as he was finally enlightened as to why Cora had betrayed him.
“You weren’t meant to survive. You shouldn’t have passed the first test Rogan puts his men through. You weren’t meant to come back. I was meant to be safe.”
“Well unluckily for you I manned up. Not only did I pass every test Rogan threw at me but I worked my way up. I’m now his second in command. How’s that for irony?”
“Screw you,” Cora spat, tired of the conversation.
“You wish. For now though, I think I’ll return the favour you so kindly granted me all those years ago.”
“Let me go, Nick, for old time’s sake. I thought we were friends?” It was a lousy defence and Cora knew it, but it was all she had left.
“We stopped being friends years ago when you shafted me, Cora. I couldn’t care less what happens to you anymore. Now shut up and move.”
Pushing on Cora’s wrists, she started to stumble forward across the grass. He made sure to keep just out of reach in case Cora tried anything—not that she had anything planned. She would have to wait for the opportune moment if she had any hope of getting free.
As Nick led her off campus, she saw people staring after her, their eyes wide with shock. None of them would come to her aid, though. They would follow the rules and messing with Rogan’s business was a sure way to get themselves recruited or killed.
No, Cora was on her own, and resigned to her fate she started to question whether her decision to trade her friend in for her own years of freedom was worth it. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, it gave Cora time to figure out a plan to disappear and buy herself a few more years. But now, as she stumbled over gravel to an awaiting car, she was seriously questioning her decision.
If she hadn’t done it then she wouldn’t be in the situation she was in. However, she would have never escaped Rogan’s in the first place had it not been for her deal. It seemed her time had run out.
As they drew nearer the familiar house Cora hated, she tried to remain confident. Showing any sign of weakness around these types of people was fatal. It wasn’t like Cora had it in her to surrender though—she planned to fight every step of the way. She had escaped three times before and she could do it again.
Nick had kept a tight grip on her wrists all of the way to Rogan’s. He understood better than anyone what went on inside Cora’s head, having been her best friend prior to her betrayal. He understood that a quiet Cora was more deadly than one that was shouting and screaming and the whole journey had been spent in silence so intense every breath could be heard.
As the car pulled into the long driveway that was used as an extra barrier between Rogan’s world and the rest of the population, she felt her heart sink at the sight of the building she had put so much effort into avoiding. The trees that lined the cream stoned road brushed past her window, changing the light from shade to blinding sun as she watched the enormous house draw closer.
The white walls stretched up two storeys with big glass windows breaking up the design. From an aerial view Cora assumed the building would look like a capital E, the three rectangles protruding from each end and the middle section of the house. All of the windows had balconies, its fake facade embellished with mock Greco-Roman pillars topped with archways, giving the house an older, more classic feel. It was all a lie, yet even Cora couldn’t deny that the building was stunning.
It was something you couldn’t take your eyes off as you passed, but that didn’t mean Cora wanted to enter the premises. It may have looked like an inviting five star spa resort, but the inside was far from it. Beyond the walls, it was not only the home of Rogan Carvelli but it also housed some of his most loyal and best fighters.
Nick said nothing the whole way there; instead he just looked out the window over Cora’s shoulder. It also meant he could keep an eye on her too. She didn’t look comfy with her wrists still pinned behind her back, her body bent away from the seat to accommodate them but Nick only felt a small measure of satisfaction at that—she had ruined his life after all.
As the car pulled to a stop in front of the main entrance, Nick leaned over her to open the door. Throwing it wide, he gestured for Cora to get out, giving her a brief shove from behind and causing her to grumble.
Stumbling out the car, Cora paused for a second, just studying the house while Nick gave the driver some orders, his hand still around her wrists. It looked even bigger when up close. However, not wanting to waste time, Nick guided her up the steps, through the front door and into the building.
Pushing her down the deep red-walled hallway it was busy with men in the usual black attire coming and going about their jobs like nothing was wrong. A few of them gave her a passing glance but Cora ignored them all, her gaze focused primarily on the men standing guard at every doorway she passed. There was nothing homely about the building, the entire corridor screamed that it was a fortress designed to protect those in it or in Cora’s situation; stop people getting out. The extra guards she passed were obviously for her as not so many had been around during her last visit. Making a mental note to question Rogan about them, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought they were there because of the stunt she had pulled last time. Rogan was not one to make the same mistake twice and the fact that she had shown him up in his own home made it all the more likely he would have implemented new measures.
Pausing outside two large, dark brown doors, the plain exterior would have given no clue as to what was behind them had she not already known. Nick raised the hand that wasn’t clasping Cora’s wrists to knock loudly and only one word came back. As she heard the voice shout “enter”, her body stiffened slightly before she built up her courage to face him. She would not be seen as weak.
Opening the door, Nick guided Cora into Rogan’s office—the only room in the entire house she had been in before. She let her eyes roam around the room, taking in the familiar mahogany desk at the far end, a brown leather sofa under the window that overlooked the drive next to it, a crystal glass chandelier that seemed like something out of Versailles and the vermilion walls. There were also three deer heads hanging on the right wall which made Cora retch as she looked at them. They always had. A few bronze gilded cabinets with splayed legs were spaced around the room but besides that, there were only two other items on display. The first was a photo of Rogan, his arm wrapped around a gorgeous brunette, resting on his desk. Oddly, Rogan looked happy in the photo and the thought that Rogan cared for anyone other than himself seemed incongruous to the ruthless business he operated. The second set of items were a few paintings hanging on the walls in regal, gold frames. Painted in the renaissance style, the only clue that they were not and had been commissioned by Rogan was the fact that each of them depicted him stood proudly in an authoritative stance above a crowd of panicked people in London. It portrayed him as the god he obviously thought he was.
Cora had delayed it as long as possible, but with nowhere else for her eyes to look, they found Rogan. He was leaning back on his plush, black leather chair with his feet resting on the desk, showing off his dark, navy jeans that gave no indication of wear. His hands were clasped in front of him and resting on his muscular chest, which looked even more impressive under the stretched black material, in a casual way, but his broad shoulders were tensed. Even from across the room Cora could see the glimmer of victory in his bright green eyes and the spark of excitement as he studied her carefully. His jet black hair was styled to perfection, cut short to make his face look more angular without a trace of facial hair to shadow it.
“Cora! It’s so great of you to join us once more. I thought the False Finder on the loose might have been you; clever changing your name.” He pulled his feet from the desk, sitting up straighter as he tried, and failed, to cover the smug grin on his face. “I bet you’re ever so pleased to see me again.”
Cora bit her tongue, swallowing the spiteful retort that was forming on her lips. She would not let him get to her and rise to his challenge. That was what he wanted. Glancing up at Nick, Rogan gave him a nod.
“You can leave now. Go make sure the others have everything ready,” Rogan said, his gaze flicking between the two of them, knowing Cora would not speak until they were alone. He had deliberately left certain information and names out of the equation, not wanting to reveal too much to her.
“Are you sure, sir? She’s been more than a little difficult. One of the guys she fought is still having trouble walking.”
Cora smiled at that. She didn’t think she had done that much damage but she was silently proud of her quick thinking and skill.
“Really? Well you can tell him that if he doesn’t get his ass back here in half an hour, that issue will be the least of his worries.”
Giving a curt nod, Nick turned and left, shutting the door behind him.
Finally free, Cora brought her hands around in front of her, rolling her shoulders and wrists to loosen up the joints and remove the stiffness.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering with this, Rogan. You know I’m never going to sign on for you. I thought you would have learnt that by now.” Exasperated and trying to appear calmer than she was, Cora moved over to the sofa, falling back on to it. She made sure to keep her eyes on Rogan though as he stood up, moving around to lean against the front of the desk.
“I think you’ll reconsider this time,” he said cryptically, not deterred. “By the way, how was it seeing your old friend Nick again?”
Cora tried to stop her body from tensing at his words but much to her regret, she flinched.
“You’re a sick bastard, you know that, right?”
“I’m guessing you both didn’t catch up and hit it off again then? That’s a shame, I thought you’d be pleased to see him.”
“Like hell. You knew exactly what you were doing by sending Nick and none of those ideas even made it into your top thousand reasons,” Cora replied, an irritated undercurrent to her voice, kicking her feet up on to the sofa. She didn’t need her ability to tell he was making every word up.
Instead of responding, Rogan moved over to the cabinet, turning his back on Cora as he rummaged around in some files.
Sensing an opportunity had just been handed to her, Cora swivelled and silently placed her feet back on the floor. Her eyes stayed locked on Rogan’s back as slowly, she stood, glancing at the door every now and then.
“You won’t get more than two metres if you try and walk out the front door. You won’t be able to fight your way out this time either.”
How the hell did he know I was moving, am I that predictable?
Cora thought as she remained standing like that wasn’t her plan all along.
“Whatever gave you the impression I would be trying to do that? I’m not suicidal or that desperate. I saw the extra guards on my way in. You’re not worried about me are you, Rogan?” Cora retorted, her voice changing from shock as she taunted him, trying to bait him into a fight. Using his first name was also meant to rile him, but he was used to her informality so ignored it.
“Like you, Cora, I’m not stupid. After you escaped last time and seriously injured at least five of my best men, I’m not taking any chances.”
“Oh goody! So they are for me, I always love new toys to kick around,” Cora fired back instantly, clapping her hands in front of her like an eager child with fake enthusiasm. “Made any
other
special arrangements?”
She moved over towards his desk, Rogan’s back still turned while he hunted for something. Glancing at him once more, she moved behind it, placing herself in his seat. As a diversion she threw her feet up on to his shiny desk and reached down to test the drawers, hoping to find some sort of weapon she could use against him.
Damn, all locked
, she cursed, bringing her hand back up into her lap as Rogan turned to face her. His face was unreadable as he approached.
“I guess I could get used to this lifestyle if I had to. I mean, this chair is a definite improvement over every piece of furniture I own and if you redecorated a little then I think I could be quite happy in this house. It’s a great house but I can’t say I’m fond of what you’ve done with it.” Cora had picked up a pen from the desk and was twirling it in her fingers as she spoke, not looking at Rogan.
He could feel a spark of hope igniting deep inside him as she continued. Never before had she mentioned anything to do with staying and even though he didn’t really believe she meant it in his heart, he could feel some of the shock showing on his face.
“You would also have to get rid of some of your men, add an indoor swimming pool, bowling alley, and I’d want my own stable full of horses. Oh, and a circus ready to perform at my beck and call.” She finished and with her final sentence Rogan’s embers of hope were extinguished. He thought he would play along though.
“That can all be arranged. You’re forgetting I am one of the most powerful men in the country now.” Finally he found the piece of paper he was looking for. Pulling it out of the cabinet, he walked back over to Cora to see her carving random shapes into his desk with his pen.
She knew it was immature. She also knew that she was risking Rogan’s wrath but neither of those bothered her. Scoring girly shapes such as stars, flowers and hearts into the expensive lacquered hardwood gave her a feeling of satisfaction and her smile grew at her small act of defiance.
Rogan on the other hand didn’t find it so amusing. Inside him, his fire had once again reignited, this time with fury as he watched her. He wanted to charge over to her and physically restrain her but that would get him nowhere. He had to remain calm and in control if he were to succeed. He knew she was baiting him.
“If those are the terms that will get you to work for me then I will provide that. All you have to do is sign here.” Placing the piece of paper on the table, he pointed at the dotted line. Above it was a page of minute writing—the terms of Cora’s agreement. He already knew what she would say but at least it distracted her from her ‘art work’ for a second.
The only reply Rogan received was a disbelieving laugh before she returned to finish her masterpiece. Cora knew what the contract would say. She also knew that it was binding in every way and that there was not a single loophole for her to exploit should a time come when she needed an exit clause. There was more chance of the country becoming democratic again than Cora signing anything.
“Sorry, I like my life as it is—shit friends and all. No deal.”
“Really and how are you planning to get out of here if you don’t? From where I’m standing it doesn’t look like you’re in a position to demand anything.”
Cora knew he was right, but she kept her face blank and unreadable, not wanting to give anything away.
“Well I’ve done it three times already, what makes you think I wouldn’t have a plan this time?” she deflected, putting the ball back in his court to give herself time to think.
“Firstly, there is not a chance you’ll be able to fight your way out like last time. I’ve made sure of that. Secondly, I don’t need any more money or new recruits right now so you can’t betray anyone else or pay me off. Thirdly, your threat no longer works seeing as your mother is dead. So go ahead, what have you got that will work this time?”