The Miracle of You

“Stay here, Camille.”

He repeated it over and over like a chant. Camille felt slight goosebumps on her skin and resisted the urge to punch her boss in the stomach.

This was such an invasion of privacy that if it had been anyone else, she would have already thrown him over her shoulder and let his back slam painfully to the floor.

But this was Christian, so she couldn’t do anything rash right now.

“Sir, please,” she said as calmly as she could. “Let go of me, and I’ll help you get up. Please don’t be difficult.”

“Be quiet,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t leave just yet.”

Camille felt annoyance spike inside of her. “What is it that you want with me?” she snapped. “I’m not one of your women. You’re not allowed to touch me however you want. If I say no, that means no-”

“Yes you are.” Suddenly his voice was frighteningly sober. The tone lost most of the slur, and he sounded like he was on the verge of irritation. “You’re mine, Camille. You belong to me. Only me.”

“I don’t belong to you. I may have signed the contract, yes, but I did not sign away my heart as well. You can’t keep treating me as you please!” She pulled away from him forcefully and took a step back, glowering at the stony expression on his face. “You may think of me as some kind of object, and that’s unfortunate, because it makes me think even less of you.”

Christian narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to betray me, aren’t you?”

His words made her stop in her tracks. She stared at him incredulously, unable to restrain the emotions rising inside of her. “What makes you think that?” she demanded.

“Because you love him. You love Michael McGregor, don’t you?” He stood up and started approaching her, almost menacingly.

Frightened, Camille took a step back and watched as he towered over her. She was smaller, so she was only up to his shoulder.

Finally, her back hit the wall. She had nowhere to run and didn’t want to risk provoking him any further.

He slammed a hand against the wall next to her and leaned down to bring their faces close together. He was so close that his proximity was almost suffocating.

“You’re going to betray me for him. I just know it,” he hissed. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“I’m not going to betray you,” she said in her calmest voice. “Whatever made you think that?”

She had to distract him by using a misdirection tactic. A question in response to a question. Otherwise, he might see through her deception.

She knew that he was beginning to become suspicious of her, but unfortunately for him, he had no hard evidence at this point. Even if she asked him to prove it, he wouldn’t be able to produce anything substantial.

“You like him too, don’t you? I bet you’ve imagined a happy life with him hundreds of times, waiting for the day when you could finally break away from me. I’m right, aren’t I, Camille?” he demanded. “I haven’t been treating you well, so I bet you have a ton of resentment inside of you.”

“I won’t deny the resentment part. I won’t say that I haven’t imagined freedom from you either,” she snapped. “What else did you expect? You forced me against my will.”

Christian’s expression darkened further. “You didn’t deny it. You’re going to betray me, and you’re going to keep on getting close to him. To Michael McGregor.”

“You’re drunk,” Camille said, closing her eyes in annoyance. “Maybe if you just remember for one moment whose order this was in the first place, huh? Who told me to get close to Michael? Newsflash: it was you,” she pointed out in a hiss.

“I’m not drunk,” he insisted, completely ignoring the last part of her words.

She glared at him. “Yes you are, Mr. Callahan. You’re not being yourself right now.” She pressed her palms against his chest, as though attempting to push him away. “Please move. You’re invading my space.”

“No.” Christian stepped closer, and Camille slowly held her breath at his proximity. “You won’t betray me. Actually, I won’t let you betray me. I won’t allow you to leave me, either.”

She was aghast. “Who do you think you are? Can’t you stop being a controlling jerk for at least one second?!”

“Camille.”

It was the way he said her name this time that sent a slight shiver down her skin. She averted her gaze to the ground, her eyes widening as she tried to control her breathing.

He said it so calmly, yet so firmly, in a low tone with an underlying threat.

“Camille,” he repeated, leaning so close that he was practically whispering in her ear, “I swear, if you ever betray me… I will make you regret that you were ever born.”

There was a stunned silence as Camille tried her best to calm her racing heart.

‘The moment you came into my life, you were already doomed,’ he thought to himself fiercely, relishing the fear that he could sense from her entire aura.

‘Looks like you never should’ve accepted that favor back then, huh?’

***

[Fourteen years ago…]

–

Seventeen-year-old Christian Callahan paused in the middle of typing on his laptop to give his father a look.

“What do you mean Patricia almost got kidnapped?” he repeated.

Gregory Callahan sighed. “The men were careless. They allowed my daughter to get grabbed by those people. After the incident, I fired them immediately.”

“Of course.” Christian raised an eyebrow. “Then how did my sister get saved?”

Greg chuckled. “A young girl came to her rescue. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“A young girl?” Christian’s brow furrowed. “How is that possible? How many men was she up against?”

“Four, if I remember correctly. Some were even armed with knives, and one had a gun.” Greg took another puff of his cigar. “And yet one girl was able to defend her own against them. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“That girl must’ve been pretty muscular, then.”

“Well, contrary to preconceived notions, she is not.”

“Oh?” There was now a slight interest in Christian’s tone.

Greg nodded. “Believe it or not, she’s a slender woman. At first glance, you don’t even think that she can hurt a fly. But when she talked to me, I noticed the way she carried herself, the way she spoke. It was with a quiet confidence, a self-reassuring air. She was quite mature for her age, I daresay.”

“You came up with all that just from one interaction?”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Oh, you can read people well if you really want to, son,” Greg said, lips curving upwards slightly. “I’ve been living in this world for more than forty years now. I’ve met a lot of different people in my journey. I can tell a lot about a person even just during a first meeting.”

“Wow. You should’ve gotten a degree in psychology instead,” Christian said, sarcasm lacing his words.

Greg chuckled it off, knowing very well about his son’s odd sense of humor. “I will take that as a compliment.”

Silence fell between them for a moment.

“So did you compensate her?” Christian asked as he turned a page of his notebook.

Greg nodded. “I did. But not with money. I promised her a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. It’s a generous offer for my own daughter’s life.”

“That’s fair.” Christian didn’t even look up. “She asked for a lot of money, didn’t she?”

That elicited a deep chuckle from Greg. Confused, Christian lifted his head to look at him.

He had never heard such a reaction from his father before. Greg was usually stern and indifferent to everything. He was quiet and typically never raised his voice, but whenever he did, you could tell that he was extremely angry.

“What?” Christian inquired.

“On the contrary, she didn’t ask for money,” Greg said. “Not a single penny.”