Violet spent the night struggling to adjust. Binding her chest tighter and tighter until it felt almost impossible to breathe, and practicing deepening her voice until her throat felt raw. She was determined to perfect it.
But even with her exhaustion, sleep didn't come easily.
When morning finally arrived, she was startled awake by a knock at her door before the sun had even risen. Pulling herself together quickly, she dressed in the clothes left for her, surprised to find they were a perfect fit.
Opening the door, Violet froze in her tracks. Mr. Flint was waiting just outside, leaning casually against the frame, his expression unreadable.
"If you had obediently stayed," he began, his tone light but chilling, "I would've fucked you. A couple of others would've joined in, too. But you would've had a good life."
Violet's stomach turned at his words, and she clenched her fists to stop herself from trembling.
"But instead of a peaceful life," Flint continued, his lips curling into a twisted smile, "you chose a dog's death instead."
"What... what are you talking about?" Violet managed, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke.
Flint straightened, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he took a step closer. "I'm saying that the man you're spying on is Lord Cain. The District Lord."
The weight of his words crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her chest tightened, and she felt her knees weaken. Lord Cain? The District Lord?
Flint smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Well, it's too late to back out now," he said, stepping aside to let her pass.
Violet walked past him stiffly, her mind racing, her heart pounding in her chest.
Outside, Rexter leaned against a gleaming black car, his posture relaxed but his eyes cold. He looked her over as she approached.
"You cut your hair."
"As short as possible," Violet replied, brushing a hand over her uneven locks.
Rexter didn't respond, only gestured toward the car. "Get in."
The interior was sleek and suffocating, the dark-tinted windows blocking out the outside world entirely. Violet slid into the seat, her hands gripping her knees tightly.
The silence stretched as the car began to move, the hum of the engine the only sound. Then Rexter spoke.
"Honestly, I don't expect you to survive."
The bluntness of his words sent a chill down her spine, but she kept her expression neutral.
He tossed her a thin black band. "Put this on," he ordered. "A witch blessed it. It'll make your voice sound deeper as long as you're wearing it."
Violet slipped it on, her fingers shaking slightly. When she spoke, her voice was deeper—almost unrecognizable.
"It works," she murmured, startled.
"You know better than to take your clothes off where anyone can see," Rexter said, his tone sharp and commanding.
"I understand," Violet nodded quickly, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her.
"You'll report to me once a month unless I give you a mission," Rexter continued, his words leaving no room for argument.
"How long do I have to do this?" Violet asked hesitantly, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.
Rexter's lips curled into a cruel smile. "A year. If you make it that long, your family's debt will be erased, and you'll be free to go."
Relief washed over Violet. One year. She could endure anything for one year.
"But first," Rexter said, cutting into her thoughts, "
"There's going to be an assessment. You need to pass it to become a servant. For you to be useful you need to be promoted from servant to Worker," he began to speak.
"A worker is the lowest rank in Lord Cain's organization. Worker—Managers—Sergeants—Generals and Vice. For you, a worker is the most you can hope to become," he declared and Violet didn't even doubt it.
'I would have been fine with servant if I had a choice in the matter,'
Rexter's gaze darkened. "Remember, you'll watch him and report back to me. That's all you need to know."
"I understand," Violet said, forcing her voice to remain steady.
The car rolled on in silence for a moment before she gathered the courage to ask aburning question that had been on her mind, "Why are you spying on him?"
The atmosphere in the car shifted instantly. A suffocating pressure filled the air, wrapping around her like invisible chains.
Violet gasped, clawing at her throat as the air seemed to vanish. Her vision blurred as panic consumed her.
"You don't ask questions," Rexter growled, his pale red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Violet nodded desperately, her vision swimming as tears streaked down her face.
The pressure lifted abruptly, and she slumped forward, gasping for air. But Rexter wasn't done. He leaned in close, his face just inches from hers, his expression cold and unyielding.
"If you fail," he hissed, his voice low and menacing, "I'll find every member of your miserable family. I'll torture them. Kill them. And make you watch."
Violet shivered violently, her heart hammering in her chest as she nodded, too terrified to speak.
The driver's voice suddenly cut through the tension. "Boss, we're here!"
Rexter pulled back, his expression neutral once more. "Get out."
Violet scrambled for the door, practically falling out of the car in her haste. She didn't stop moving until the vehicle disappeared around a corner, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
Her thoughts raced, her mind replaying the scene over and over.
"Reds exist," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "He had fangs."