0002 - Proving Her Loyalty (2)

Heather's heart pounded as she approached the first gate of the secluded estate. The iron bars loomed ominously, and a shiver ran down her spine as the gate creaked open.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped through, the crunch of gravel under her feet echoing in the stillness of the night.

She approached the second gate, her nerves on edge. A tall, imposing man stood there, his stern gaze fixed on her. Summoning her courage, she spoke.

"Good evening, sir. My name is Heather. I'm here to see Mr. Eamon Rodge."

The man scrutinized her for a moment before nodding. "Follow me," he said, his voice gruff. As they walked through the gate, Heather's anxiety grew. She realized he wasn't Eamon Rodge but another gatekeeper.

They reached the third and main gate of the mansion, which opened to reveal another imposing man. Her heart raced as she approached him, her steps faltering.

"Good evening, Mr. Eamon," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I am Heather Daniels. I'm here to discuss an important contract—"

Before she could finish, a hoarse, thick baritone voice interrupted from the shadows. "Who dares address me without proper introduction?"

Heather turned cold when she finally saw Eamon Rodge, who was not the elderly man she had imagined. Instead, a very young man with a dark aura sat on a stool near a wine cellar section, not far from the entrance.

He wore dark lenses and held a walking cane, his presence exuding an unsettling mixture of charm and menace.

"Mr. Rodge?" Heather stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eamon Rodge tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint, enigmatic smile. "Yes, that would be me. You have five minutes, Ms. Heather. Speak."

Heather swallowed hard, feeling her pulse quicken. "I... I have a contract that needs your signature. It's very important for Marcus's career. Please, if you could just take a moment to—"

Eamon raised a hand, silencing her. "I understand the request. And you said Marcus sent you? Interesting." He paused, as if considering something. "I will sign your contract, but there will be a price. You will owe me a favor. Anything I ask, when I ask for it."

Heather's heart skipped a beat. She had not expected him to agree so easily. "Anything?" she echoed, her voice trembling.

"Anything," Eamon confirmed, his smile widening. "Do we have a deal?"

Heather took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had to think quickly. "Anything, except... except my body or sex," she said firmly. "I have someone I'm committed to."

Eamon's smile didn't falter. Instead, it seemed to grow more amused. "Very well, Ms. Heather. I accept your terms. Anything I ask, excluding your body or sex."

Heather nodded, relief washing over her, though she couldn't shake the feeling of dread lingering in the air. "Thank you, Mr. Rodge."

Eamon extended his hand. "The contract, please."

She handed him the folder, her fingers trembling. Eamon opened it and, without hesitation, signed the document. He then handed it back to her.

"Consider the debt incurred, Ms. Heather," he said, his tone both gentle and ominous. "When I call upon you, I expect you to fulfill your end of the bargain."

Heather clutched the signed contract to her chest, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. "I understand. Thank you."

Eamon nodded. "You may leave now. And Ms. Heather, do convey my regards to Marcus."

Heather nodded, unable to speak. She turned and hurried out of the mansion, her heart pounding. She had the signature, but at what cost?

As she drove back, the weight of the bargain she had made with Eamon Rodge pressed heavily on her mind.

As soon as Heather left, the door creaked shut behind her, and Eamon Rodge allowed himself a moment of contemplation.

He had recognized her immediately. Their paths had crossed thrice in city M, each encounter fleeting but memorable. She had a distinctive aura, a mix of vulnerability and determination that had caught his attention every time they had bumped into each other.

Eamon's fingers drummed rhythmically on the armrest of his chair. "Heather," he mused aloud, his voice a soft murmur. "Fate has an intriguing way of weaving our paths together."

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and his secretary stepped in. The man was efficient, with an air of quiet competence.

"Mr. Rodge, do you require anything else this evening?" he asked, his tone respectful.

Eamon turned slightly in his direction. "Updates, please."

The secretary nodded. "Regarding Marcus, he is currently with a woman at his residence. It appears they are quite... indiscreet. There's a high probability that Ms Heather might catch them if she returns soon."

Eamon smirked, a dark amusement dancing in his eyes. "Perfect," he murmured. "Everything is unfolding as expected."

The secretary continued, "It seems you knew all about this situation, which is why you signed the contract so readily."

Eamon leaned back, his dark lenses catching the dim light. "Yes. Heather's loyalty and spirit intrigued me. This ordeal will only strengthen her resolve. As for Marcus, he is digging his own grave. His actions will soon catch up to him."

The secretary nodded, then shifted topics. "Also, your mother called. She wishes for you to visit her one of these days this week."

Eamon's expression hardened slightly. He reached for his glass of wine, taking a slow, deliberate sip. "I see," he replied curtly, making no further comment on the matter.

The secretary took the hint and bowed slightly. "Is there anything else you need, sir?"

Eamon shook his head. "That will be all for tonight. Ensure everything is in place for the upcoming meeting at Ritz Hotel."

"Understood, Mr. Rodge," the secretary replied before exiting the room.

Eamon sat in silence, the rich flavor of the wine lingering on his tongue. He thought of Heather once more, envisioning the turmoil she was about to face. She had shown resilience, and he was curious to see how she would handle the impending revelation about Marcus.

"To interesting times," he murmured to himself, lifting his glass in a silent toast before draining it completely.