Chapter 6

Fae Ware POV:

"Just... for a walk," I stammered, my heart hammering against my ribs. I tried to project an air of casual nonchalance, but my pulse was racing. I had been so close. So close to freedom.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "A walk? In that outfit? And with that bag?" He gestured to the small duffel I clutched, my passport tucked inside. He knew. Or he suspected.

"Yes," I said, my voice firmer now, a desperate resolve hardening my spine. "I was just going to grab some fresh air. It's been a stressful few days."

He stared at me, his gaze piercing, trying to dissect my lies. A flicker of something, guilt perhaps, crossed his face, quickly replaced by his usual charming facade. He must have remembered his own deceit, the lies he had spun about his "business trips."

"You know," he said, stepping closer, his voice softening. "I've been thinking about what I said. About your music. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you should pursue it, if it makes you happy. I'll support you, Fae. Always."

His words were a poisoned balm, meant to soothe and disarm. He was trying to dangle a false carrot, to pull me back into his orbit. But the damage was done. I saw through his act. He was only saying this because he sensed me slipping away, because his control was threatened.

Before I could reply, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his expression tightened. "It's my grandfather," he said, his voice curt. "Another crisis. I have to go."

He looked at me, a silent plea in his eyes, as if expecting me to understand, to wait. But I wouldn't. This was my chance.

"Go," I said, my voice flat. "I'll be fine."

He hesitated for a moment longer, then, with a sigh, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing in the silent hallway. I watched him go, a sense of relief washing over me. He was gone. My chance. My escape.

I ran. Out the door, down the driveway, not looking back. I hailed a cab, giving the driver the coordinates of the private airfield Dr. Petrova had arranged. Freedom. It was so close I could taste it.

As the cab sped away, I saw her. Karis. She stood by the roadside, a predatory smile on her face, watching me go. Our eyes met, and a chill snaked down my spine. She knew. She had always known.

"Leaving so soon, Fae?" she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "Running away again? Some things never change, do they, little foster girl?"

Her words were a venomous dart, piercing through my carefully constructed facade. She knew about my past, my insecurities. She knew how to hurt me.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" she continued, stepping closer to the cab window, her eyes glittering with triumph. "You think you can just waltz out of here, leaving Glenn to pick up your pieces. But he's mine now. All mine. And you? You're nothing. Just a memory. A discarded toy."

"And you," I said, my voice steady, "are a pathetic opportunist. You'll never be enough for him. He'll chew you up and spit you out, just like he did me."

Her smile faltered, a flash of anger replacing the triumph. "Oh, Fae," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "you have no idea what I'm capable of. You think you can escape? Think again."

The cab driver, sensing the tension, sped away. I looked back, watching Karis shrink into the distance, her figure a dark, ominous silhouette against the setting sun. Her words, her threats, echoed in my mind. She was dangerous. More dangerous than I had ever imagined.

Later that evening, Glenn had arranged a small, intimate celebration for my supposed "return." He had filled the mansion with flowers, candles, and my favorite gourmet dishes. He was trying to recreate the illusion of our perfect love, to lull me back into complacency.

Just as we were about to sit down for dinner, the doorbell chimed. Glenn, annoyed, went to answer it. Karis stood there, looking forlorn, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Glenn," she whimpered, "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but I just... I couldn't bear to be alone tonight. My apartment still feels so... violated." She glanced at me, a quick, triumphant glint in her eyes. "I just needed a friendly face."

Glenn, ever the hero, immediately softened. "Karis, darling, come in. Of course. You're always welcome here."

He led her to the table, pulling out a chair for her next to me. The very chair he had pulled out for me just moments before. I watched him, my heart a frozen block of ice. His hypocrisy was astounding. He had just declared his "unwavering love" for me, and now he was inviting his fiancée to our intimate dinner.

My gaze fell on a delicate crystal vase, filled with white roses. White roses. My favorite. He had always known. He had always used them as a symbol of his affection, his devotion. Now, they felt like a mockery, a cruel reminder of a love that was never real.

"White roses, Fae," he said, his voice soft, almost melancholic. "Just for you."

"Are they, Glenn?" I asked, my voice flat. "Or are they just another prop in your elaborate play?"

He flinched, his smile faltering. "Fae, what are you talking about? I bought them for you. My wild rose."

"Don't," I said, pushing my chair back. "Don't call me that. Not anymore."

I stood up, my gaze sweeping over the lavish table, the expensive food, the carefully arranged flowers. It was all a facade. All a lie.

"I'm not hungry," I said, turning to leave. "You two enjoy your... celebration."

I walked away, needing to be alone, needing to breathe. I could hear their hushed voices, their anxious whispers, as I retreated to my room. He was probably trying to explain my "mood," trying to reassure Karis that I was "no threat."

Later, from my window, I watched them. Glenn and Karis, slow dancing in the living room, bathed in the soft glow of the chandeliers. He held her close, his head resting on her shoulder. The scene was sickeningly intimate, a twisted parody of the moments he had shared with me.

The general consensus, as I overheard from the staff, was that they were a perfect couple, so in love. "Mr. Christensen is so devoted," the housekeeper whispered to the gardener. "And Miss Hubbard, so sweet, so understanding."

Their words were like a fresh stab wound. They saw the illusion, the carefully constructed performance. They didn't see the broken girl, the shattered dreams, the bitter betrayal.

Suddenly, a voice, sharp and clear, cut through the quiet night. "You know, Glenn, she really is just a foster kid. A charity case. You always did have a soft spot for the broken ones, didn't you?"

It was Karis, her voice dripping with contempt. I pressed my ear closer to the window.

Glenn chuckled, a cold, dismissive sound. "She was useful, Karis. But you... you're unforgettable."

My blood ran cold. They were talking about me. Again. Her words, her contempt, sliced through me like a razor. I was a charity case. A broken one. A useful toy. The words echoed in my mind, a tormenting refrain.

My body trembled, a raw, primal scream trapped in my throat. I wanted to smash something, to break everything beautiful in this house, just like they had broken me.

Glenn's voice, now placating, reached my ears. "Fae, love, don't listen to her. She's just being silly." He was trying to calm me, to gaslight me, even when he thought I couldn't hear him. The sheer audacity of his manipulation was infuriating.

"She's right, Glenn," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "She's right about everything."

"Fae, darling, calm down," he said, his voice laced with forced concern. "Karis didn't mean anything by it. She's just a little jealous, you know. But you, you're my one and only."

He was still trying to placate me, to keep me captive in his web of lies. But I was done. Done with his false promises, his empty words.

Suddenly, his phone rang, its shrill sound shattering the fragile peace. He answered, his brow furrowing with concern.

"What?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in panic. "Karis? Kidnapped? By Darrion Anderson?!"

He looked at Karis, his face a mask of frantic worry. She, in turn, looked back at him, her eyes wide with fear, a single tear rolling down her cheek. But there was a flicker of something else in her gaze, a triumphant glint that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Glenn, darling," Karis whimpered, "what are we going to do? He's a monster! He'll do terrible things to me!"

Glenn's eyes, filled with panic, darted to me. A sudden, horrifying realization dawned on me. This was a setup. A trap. And I was the bait.

"I need to go," Glenn said, his voice strained. "I have to save her." He looked at me, his gaze cold, resolute. "Fae, stay here. Don't move. Don't do anything foolish."

His words were a command, a final desperate attempt to control me. But I was done with his commands. I was done with his control. I was done.