Bound to the calloway's heir

Sienna.

"Get to your desk. We will handle this."

I mimicked Zane's orders under my breath, not hiding my disgust at the nerve he had shown, commanding me around like I was a child. I hated not being in control of my decisions as badly as I wanted to be rid of the men after me. The sick bastards watching my every move.

The door to Zane's office clicked shut behind me when I stepped off the sensors. I stood in the hallway feeling light-headed. I pressed a shaky hand against the cool wall to steady myself. I let out air through my mouth in wide puffs. I repeated the act a few more times, until the panic attack had passed, and I felt a grip on myself. I wanted to storm back in, scream at him that I would rather take my chances out there than be caged with him. But I didn't. I couldn't, because deep down, I knew he was right. He was the only one who could keep me safe. Somehow, the cartel was on my trail again. I had not been careful enough, as my father had asked of me. They must have caught my careless slips, and now I have to face the consequences of my actions.

Out of habit, my fingers twisted the locket at my neck. I was not some mastermind pulling the strings of the messy events I have had to endure for five years. I was a survivor, carrying the scars he would never imagine. My mind drifted to another man who had looked at me with that same desire to protect me. Ian Baldwin. My first love. The memory of my past hit me hard, pulling me once again to a time when I had just turned twenty, the cold night my world took another turn.

֍ flashback ֍

I stood on the side of a highway, my backpack slung over one shoulder. My heart had not stopped racing from the memory of that night while the flames swallowed our manor. I had been running for weeks, sleeping in bus stations, stealing food from unsuspecting stores.

The rumble of bikes grew louder and from the sound of their honks, I knew it was a pack of them. I should have hidden in the scrub brush, but I was too weak to move. They slowed as they passed, and my eyes caught their leather vests gleaming as they stared at me with curiosity. One of them pulled over and hopped off his bike and stepped closer to me.

"You look like you could use a ride," he said. He was older, maybe his late twenties. His voice felt dangerous in a way that made my pulse skip. "Name's Ian."

I hesitated, my thumb brushing the locket hidden under my shirt. My father's last words echoed through my mind. Trust no one

. But I was starving, and the road was endless. "Sienna," I said, the lie slipping out easy. I had stopped using my real name the day I ran.

Ian grinned, nodding his head toward the bike. "Hop on, Sienna. We're headed to Wyoming. Got room for one more."

I climbed on, my arms wrapping around his waist, the leather of his vest cool against my skin. The bike roared to life, and we sped off, the wind tearing through my hair. For the first time since that night, I felt something close to free. And that was how the biker gang of six guys, two women, took me in like I was one of their own. They called themselves the wild eye, a name that felt fitting for the way they lived wildly, and untamed.

Ian kept me close, his eyes lingering too long, his hand brushing mine when he passed me a beer. I didn't mind. He was a distraction and my protector and I needed both. He taught me how to pick a lock, how to spot a mark and blend into a crowd. The Wild eyes were petty thieves, shoplifting from gas stations, lifting wallets in crowded bars. I learned fast, my hands steady, my guilt buried deep. It was better than starving.

Ian and I fell into what was a reckless love. He would pull me onto his lap by the fire, his lips hot against my neck, whispering promises he swore to keep. I let him, because his touch drowned out the screams in my head, because his arms felt like safety, even if I knew they weren't. Because, despite the freedom, I knew the cartel was never far behind.

I had caught glimpses of men in dark jackets watching from across the street, a car trailing us too closely. When I pointed this out to Ian, he laughed it off and called me paranoid, but I knew better. They were hunting me, and I was a fool for thinking I could outrun them.

It all came crashing down at a mall in Cheyenne. Ian and I had gone to lift some cash from a department store. Our usual game was to flirt around, distracting the attendants, then steal. I was charming the cashier, my smile fake but effective, while Ian slipped behind the counter. But then I saw them enter, two men in suits, their dangerous eyes scanning the shoppers. My stomach dropped. I knew that look. I saw it the night my parents died.

"Ian," I hissed, grabbing his arm. "We need to go. Now."

He frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "What's got you spooked, babe?"

I didn't answer, just pulled him toward the exit, my heart pounding. But they were already moving, cutting through the crowd like sharks. I ducked into the women's restroom, shoving Ian toward the stalls. "Hide," I whispered. "They're here."

"Check the vents. You should be able to crawl through to the other end." He cursed, his boots scuffing the tile. I locked myself in a stall, my breath shallow as my trembling hands clutched my locket. The door to the restroom creaked open cautiously slowly and I bit my lip to keep from whimpering. Heavy footsteps echoed, stopping just outside my stall.

"Come out, little girl," a voice said. "We know you're here."

I didn't move, didn't breathe. Ian was silent in the next stall. The man kicked the door, and I stifled a scream. Another voice joined the first. "We have your boo."

My eyes darted upward to the vent above the stall was loose, just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I stood on the WC, my fingers shaking as I pried it open, the metal scraping against my skin. The men were arguing now, their voices muffled as they searched the other stalls. I hoisted myself up and crawled into the dark vent.

I moved as fast as I could, the metal cold against my palms. Behind me, I heard a crash, Ian's stall door giving way. He shouted, a sound of defiance cut short by a sickening thud. I froze, my heart in my throat, tears burning my eyes.

"Where's the girl?" the first man growled.

Ian gasped. "I don't know, fuck, let me go!"

I kept crawling, my body shaking with guilt. I should have gone back, but I was a coward. I shook off the feeling and continued to crawl through the vent. It sloped downward, leading to a service corridor.

Then I heard a single gunshot and that stopped my world for a split second. Ian. I clapped a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob while my body curled in on itself in the tight space. Just like my parents, Ian was gone too. Because I had brought this curse with me, everyone who got close, tended to get killed.

I didn't know how long I was staying there, trembling as the echo of that shot rang in my ears. Eventually, I crawled out, dropping into a dimly lit corridor, my legs barely holding me up. I ran out the back exit, into the cold night. I looked up to the sky to watch the stars mocking me with their indifference as they shone brightly. I didn't stop running until I was miles away and just like the night my parents had died, I was hitchhiking to the next town, and my next life.

֍ ֍

"Excuse me, Miss Carter"

The words pulled me out of my head. I hastily snapped out of the memory of my haunting past, pulling myself back to Zane's hallway. I turned around to face the direction of the voice with a smile ready. "Yes Kate?" I said, reading the name tag on the lady's white T-shirt smartly tucked into a blue pant.

"I have been to your office out back after trying to reach you via the intercom," Kate said, eyeing me curtly.

"Oh, my bad. Sorry about that. "What is it?" I raised a brow in response.

"You have a guest in the lobby..."

My heart started to pound, but I swallowed, calming my nerves that were starting to act up. "Who is it?"

"Kate's tone came off with an edge, "Says her name's Belinda Adams. She's not scheduled for your appointment and Mr. Calloway's."

I sighed a relief at once, nodding my head. "Sure please. She is my friend. Thank you."

"Alright," the lady said, walking away.

I smoothed my pants as I checked my reflection in the glass partition. I glanced into the office and noticed Zane was on the phone. I walked away from his door to my corner.

"Belinda Adams" I smiled, remembering how we had bonded while I was on the run years back.