Chapter Seventeen – Zeth
Chapter Seventeen
Zeth
Over the next few days, I watch Wren deteriorate.
She becomes increasingly distant, her thoughts scattering whenever I try to reach for them.
She doesn’t talk to me much, responding only with single words when I check in – yes, no, fine, later.
Even Dale’s visits with food don’t amuse her anymore, and she used to at least crack a smile at the undead guard’s terrible fashion choices.
Now she barely acknowledges him, only takes the bag and returns to work without a word.
She’s focused on cooking Crimson Haze, working from the moment she wakes until she can barely stand. She sleeps only five hours each night and always asks me to sedate her mind so she won’t dream. I do it because she asks, but I hate it.
I can feel that she’s coiled tightly, like a spring about to snap.
Every muscle in her body is tense and rigid.
Her skin has taken on a pale, sickly quality despite eating well, and I know the lack of sunlight is killing her slowly.
She hasn’t seen the sun or breathed fresh air in almost a week.
Being trapped in here with only harsh fluorescent lights makes her look like a ghost.
She needs to get outside, needs fresh air and real sunlight, but she knows the only way out is by giving Garrett what he wants. By the end of her first week of imprisonment, three entire cupboards are filled with vials of Crimson Haze.
I sense Wren starting to worry that Garrett isn’t taking the vials to sell. She expected the organization would want to distribute Crimson as quickly as possible to satisfy desperate clients, but the vials just keep accumulating with no one collecting them.
Just as this worry starts eating at her more than usual, the door to the laboratory bangs open.
A man Wren has never seen before struts into the laboratory like he owns everything in it and more.
He’s short but carries himself with the kind of confidence that comes from never being told no.
He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair is slicked back with too much product, and his piercing green eyes lock onto Wren.
“Well, well, well,” he says, voice smooth but carrying an edge that makes me tense. “Let’s see what you’ve been cooking in here.”
He approaches Wren without hesitation, crossing the laboratory like he has every right to invade her space.
She backs away instinctively, confusion and wariness flooding through her, not understanding what’s happening or who this man is.
He enters her personal space without pausing, getting too close and violating every boundary.
“Wren Hayes, right?” he says. “We haven’t met.”
Before she can respond, he grabs her by the jaw and pulls her face toward him.
Inside her, I bristle, my protective instinct screaming to act.
If it were up to me, I would tear him limb from limb for daring to touch her like this.
I can feel that he’s an awful man. There’s something rotten and cruel underneath the expensive suit, and I hate that Wren has to be around men like him.
I know this is her job, but she deserves so much better than this.
Wren sends a quick mental message before I can do something stupid:
“Don’t.”
I force myself to settle down, but I remain on high alert, watching everything, ready to explode the second she needs me.
The man studies Wren’s face while gripping her jaw, his green eyes roaming over her features.
“I’m Roman. Roman Kyzer. Are you as pleased to meet me as I am to meet you?
” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Of course you are. But I had no idea you were such a pretty thing. Look at you. I thought I found myself a chemist, but you’re a minx, aren’t you?
That red hair. Lovely.” He leans closer, breath hot on her face. “I always preferred redheads.”
“Let me go,” Wren whispers through gritted teeth.
Roman laughs. He releases her jaw and shoves her away, making her stumble backward. She catches herself against the workstation.
Roman walks to the cupboards and opens them to reveal rows upon rows of glowing crimson vials. He picks one up, holds it to the light, and watches the liquid shimmer.
“Good job. My father will be pleased.” He sets the vial down and turns to face Wren with a satisfied smirk.
“It’s his birthday tomorrow, you see, and I’m going to give him the best present.
He’s hard to impress, my father. And he never really takes me seriously.
But he will now. His youngest son, saving his Crimson empire. ”
He turns fully to Wren and points a finger directly at her.
“And you helped me. Proved yourself useful. A skilled chemist indeed. How would you like to join the party tomorrow?”
Wren’s eyes widen. She despises this man, but she just gained crucial intelligence.
This is Roman Kyzer, youngest son of the Kyzer boss.
FBI intel confirmed the boss had three sons, and she’s just identified one of them standing right before her.
This is a breakthrough for her mission and a chance to meet family leadership at a gathering where everyone important will be present.
She swallows her pride and keeps her voice steady.
“I would be honored.”
Roman laughs again.
“Of course you would.”
He steps back into her personal space, invading her boundaries again, and Wren does her best not to move away.
I’m fighting every second to keep myself contained, to not pour out of her body and show this man exactly what I think of him touching her.
When he reaches for her, she stands still, not flinching even though I can feel her revulsion.
His hand touches her cheek, fingers trailing down her jawline, then down her neck.
His touch makes her skin crawl, and I feel her disgust as my own, but also her control as she keeps her expression neutral.
Roman’s hand continues down her side, sliding over her ribs, and his eyes roam blatantly over her breasts.
“I like them bigger,” he says with a lecherous grin, “but yours look perky, I won’t lie.”
I hate him. I hate everything about him, and I hate that Wren has to endure this, but I know this isn’t the moment to lose my temper and ruin everything. I can tell she’s handling it even if it’s killing me to stay still.
Roman suddenly grabs Wren by the waist, yanking her against him. His body presses flush against hers, and she feels his hard cock poking into her thigh.
This breaks her control. Her right hand shoots up and grabs Roman’s wrist, her thumb pressing hard into the pressure point on the inside while her other hand comes up to his elbow.
She twists his arm away from her body using leverage, hyperextending his elbow joint just enough to force him to release her and step back.
Roman yelps in pain and surprise, clutching his twisted arm. His face transforms, all pretense of charm vanishing.
“What’s wrong with you, bitch?”
The entitled arrogance is replaced by pure anger. His green eyes flash with rage, face flushing red and jaw clenched. He takes a threatening step toward her with his hand raised like he might strike her.
The door slams against the wall, making both Wren and Roman turn. Garrett walks in quickly, and even though he seems tense, when he speaks, his voice is calm and polite.
“Is this a good idea?”
Roman whirls on Garrett, his rage redirecting.
“Don’t tell me what is or isn’t a good idea. I found her. I brought her here. She’s my prize, and I will use her however I see fit.”
“And choosing her was a brilliant idea. She’s a great chemist. I think your father will be pleased.” He pauses before adding, “Once he sees how strong her Crimson is, he will want her in one piece, however.”
Roman huffs and runs a hand through his hair. He shoots Wren a disgusted look, then sneers at Garrett.
“You’re overstepping, you know. You’re my father’s dog, nothing more. Don’t forget that.”
“Of course not. It was never my intention to displease you.”
Roman ignores him and starts walking around the laboratory, pretending to study the equipment. Both Wren and Garrett stand there awkwardly, waiting, neither moving. Roman takes his time, touching things, peering into beakers, clearly asserting dominance by making them wait.
Finally, he walks to the door.
“Pack up the Crimson in crates. Each should have a bow on top,” he shoots over his shoulder. “And tell the chemist bitch to wear something nice tomorrow. Attach a bow to her too, if you can. My father’s birthday gift has to be perfect.”
Wren and Garrett stand in silence for a moment.
They exchange a long glance, and I can feel Wren buzzing inside, not with fear but with excitement and relief.
She’s not even angry that Roman grabbed her, touched her, and called her a bitch.
She’s already concluded Roman is a stain on his father’s boot, nothing more.
If someone as low-ranking as Garrett can stand up to Roman publicly – and clearly does so regularly based on their dynamic – then Roman has no real power in the family.
She senses no one in the organization respects him, which means she doesn’t need to worry about him.
Garrett finally breaks the silence.
“You heard him. Wear something nice. I’ll send two guys to pack up the Crimson.”
“Will there be a bow for me?” Wren asks, attempting humor.
Garrett scoffs. “If the old man sees you wearing a bow on your head, he won’t take you seriously. Disregard what Roman said. He’s an idiot.”
The bluntness shocks Wren. She stares at Garrett with new eyes. He’s not a good guy by any means, but maybe he’s not completely horrible. I don’t like where her thoughts are going and that she’s warming up to him even slightly, but I stay quiet.
“Thank you for saving me,” Wren says.
Garrett laughs as he starts walking toward the door.
“It didn’t look like you needed saving. But you’re welcome anyway.”