Gracelyn woke up in a bed that felt like a cloud. The sheets were silk, cool against her skin. Sunlight was streaming in, blindingly bright.
For a second, she panicked. She reached under her pillow for the switchblade she usually kept there.
Nothing. Just soft down.
Right. The penthouse.
There was a knock on the door. Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, bustled in with a tray. "Good morning, Mrs. Durham. Mr. Durham has gone to the office. He left this for you."
She handed Gracelyn a sleek, black smartphone.
"My phone?" Gracelyn signed.
"Mr. Durham said the old one was compromised. This one is secure."
Gracelyn took the phone. It was heavy. She unlocked it. There was one contact saved: Constantine. No browser. No app store. Just calls and texts.
He was isolating her.
Mrs. Higgins left. Gracelyn immediately went to the bathroom, locked the door, and connected the phone to the smart mirror via Bluetooth. She bypassed the restriction software in thirty seconds. Gracelyn downloaded a browser masked as a calculator app.
She logged into the dark web forum she used for jobs. Gracelyn messaged Chloe, her contact.
Status?
Chloe replied instantly. Are you alive? Check the Bounty Board.
Gracelyn navigated to the bounty section. Her heart stopped.
Target: Gracelyn Montgomery. Reward: $5,000,000. Condition: Alive. Bring to Vane Private Island.
Five million. Vane and his associates, maybe even Georgina Pierce, had put this up. They were desperate.
Gracelyn walked out to the terrace. She looked down at the street, sixty stories below. She saw them. Two black sedans parked across the street. They weren't Durham cars. They were hunters.
If Gracelyn stepped foot outside this building, she would be bagged and on a plane to Vane's island within the hour.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Constantine.
Saw the board? 5 Million. You're appreciating in value.
Gracelyn stared at the screen. He knew. He was monitoring her "secure" phone.
You knew about the bounty? she typed back.
My team intercepted three trackers this morning. Stay inside. Don't make me put an ankle monitor on you.
Gracelyn threw the phone onto the bed. She was trapped. Again.
But she couldn't just sit here. She needed to sever the legal tie. If she wasn't his wife, she could disappear properly once the heat died down.
Gracelyn needed leverage. Something big enough to force his hand.
She wandered into the living room. The study door had a retinal scanner. Impossible to bypass without his eyes.
But the smart home system...
Gracelyn saw the central control panel on the wall. It controlled the lights, the temperature, the security feeds. It was hardwired into the internal network.
She walked over to it.
"Mrs. Durham?"
Gracelyn jumped. Mrs. Higgins was standing there with a duster. "Is it too cold?"
Gracelyn shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She nodded, looking pathetic.
"Oh, you poor dear." Mrs. Higgins tapped the screen, turning the heat up. "Mr. Durham likes it freezing, but I'll fix it."
She didn't suspect a thing.
That night, Constantine came home late. He found Gracelyn sitting on the sofa, reading a book, looking like the perfect, obedient wife.
He loosened his tie, tossing it onto a chair. He looked at Gracelyn, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew she was plotting something.
"Dinner," he said. "Then we discuss the rules."
