His Favorite Sin

8.2: CURSED GIFT

Present

When Cora challenged Isabel for rights to her work and its management, all she asked for was a meeting with Lance. She knew he was the one pulling the strings. Though they spoke to her, it was he who decided, and if she could just convince him, she would get what she wanted.

That manuscript was all she had to show as her only accomplishment in her short, sad life, and she just couldn’t let it go like that. Panic swelled in her the instant she got home after the contract signing and realized what she had done.

There had been a backup plan, though, something she could fall back on when she “regained her senses,” as Tammy had put it.

Tammy had brought her to a lawyer before the contract signing, who had enlightened her on the loopholes and ambiguities in the contract, which she could leverage when she needed to.

It helped her get a call from Lance when she used it against Isabel, but she hadn’t expected to be coerced into dinner with him. And when he came to pick her up the following evening, she also hadn’t anticipated the words he confessed on their ride to the restaurant.

Cora’s mind remained in a foggy haze, drifting over every word Lance said, trying to dissect the meaning underneath them, or were they simply laid bare on the surface, but she was unwilling to accept the obvious?

She had lived with the Dvoraks for two years, taking care of Lance during that period while balancing her schoolwork, which hadn’t been difficult to do because her job caused her no stress. She was being paid more than she deserved while also given accommodation in the most beautiful, quiet, and secluded mansion.

At the time, it had felt like she was cheating Mr. Dvorak out of his money. Living in their home alone should have been payment enough, considering all the perks that came with it.

What she hadn’t known was that Mr. Dvorak was only generous with his pay because Lance used to be a nightmare to his other assistants before she came along.

Later on, she had heard a few stories, stories she had found impossible to believe at first. Because how could Lance, who brought her flowers every other day, suddenly wake up one morning and lead his assistant deep into the woods on the pretext of wanting to go for a walk, only to then sneak away and abandon them there, purposefully leaving the assistant stranded till the next day so they had to spend the night alone, scared and exposed in the cold dark quiet forest?

And when anyone asked after his assistant, he would say they had gone into town on an errand. His father hadn't been at home either, as usual, to notice anything missing.

The next morning, the gardener went to tend to their private orchard, which was a few miles away from the house, when he heard someone’s exhausted cry for help.

The assistant had been found shivering, with scrapes and bruises on their knees, arms, and elbows from slipping and falling over stones and tree roots, and their skin littered with mosquito bites. They were dehydrated and already burning from a fever.

Of course, the assistant quit the job immediately.

So when Lance’s older brother had told Cora this story, she couldn’t believe it because some details didn’t add up.

First, Lance couldn’t be that cruel. He had never acted in front of her in any way that would give her the impression that he could hurt a fly. Then there was also the fact that he was visually impaired and wouldn’t be able to make his way back from the woods to the mansion on his own without assistance. No matter how familiar he was with his surroundings, he just couldn’t have sneaked away that fast from his assistant with his disability.

It took her some time to discover the truth and gain some knowledge about his “unnatural gifts,” and then, some things started to make sense.

However, she never wondered too much why he had been so different with her, why he never played any of those sadistic games with her, and had been nothing but docile and friendly towards her.

He had liked her from their first meeting, and even though he had lied and hidden a lot of things, he had never faked his fondness for her.

Even his father had noticed, which was why Mr. Dvorak had paid her in advance when she started working there, just to coax her to stay.

She wasn't supposed to stay that long in the mansion. She was supposed to be a substitute until they found a professional for Lance, but Mr. Dvorak had kept her indefinitely, and at some point, even ceased his hunt for a professional assistant for Lance.

Cora hadn’t thought much of it until now.

I want you, he had said. Was it a crush then? Or was he just messing with her?

They had arrived at their restaurant and were led inside the quiet building to their private booth, where it was just the two of them, with the waiter only coming in to pour their drinks. The curtains were half-drawn, with the lighting dim, just perfect.

She watched Lance quietly as he listened to the waiter explaining how their course would go and how soon their food would be ready. While she stiffly sat in her seat, disoriented, he, on the other hand, appeared at ease, unbothered by anything else in the entire world as he conversed with the server.

There was already a bottle of wine placed on the table. She reached for a half-filled glass and downed the whole thing before popping open the bottle again and unfashionably emptying the remainder of the wine into her glass till it was full to the brim. This earned her a look from the server, which she ignored. The bottle was small, and their glasses were bottomless.

If she was going to get through the night, she would need all the help she could get, and Lance would pay for it with his rich-boy money, seeing as he was the cause of her mental distress anyway.

‘We might need another bottle,’ Lance said, not masking the amusement in his voice, before their server left. She glared at him, wishing to empty the gold liquid in her glass on him, but refrained from her urges as the wine would serve a better purpose in her than on him.

Every part of me settles with you; you know this... Did she, though? What did that even mean? Because a deep, dark thought whispered in the corners of her mind that his words bordered closer to obsession than a mere crush.

Something else he had said also stuck with her.

‘You knew everywhere I hid all these years... how?’ She stared at him above her now half-empty glass. ‘What... you had your father hire a PI to track me?’

His smirk remained as he tilted his head and stroked his chin, but ignored her question.

‘Or is it that weird thing you do with animals and how you control them?’

‘I can’t see that far,’ he replied and earned a scoff from her.

‘I did learn a few new tricks which I would like to show you, but that will be for another time. Let’s not forget what we’re here for.’

Cora instantly straightened. She had been completely thrown off and had almost forgotten why they were having this dinner. Her rights over her manuscript were in jeopardy, but she could barely remember her points of argument that she had rehearsed. Lance had managed to scatter her focus in all directions, and her mind now came up blank.

He pursed his lips and thrummed his fingers on the table as he pondered. If she could, she would split his head open to see what was going on in that head of his.

‘You can be involved in the editing process, if you want,’ Lance suddenly said to her surprise.

She blinked at him, shocked. She had thought she would have to beg and wrestle to get him to agree. He had coerced that signature out of her so he could have complete control over her narrative, and now, he’d just caved? Something felt off.

‘I think we would make a great team.’

‘We?’

‘Yes. Starling House, of course, have their notes, and they will submit their report to you. You can revise it, and I will only monitor your progress. Don’t worry, I won’t get in your way, but we will have to meet more often.’

It sounded simple. It was a good deal, what she wanted, just handed to her on a silver platter. She should be happy and have nothing to worry about. He was giving her the rights she was owed, what she should have gotten from the start, but it sounded too... easy.

She narrowed her eyes at him, watching him sip from his glass. ‘That’s it?’

‘You want more?’

She caught the quirk of his lips that he tried to hide. The server returned just then, bringing along their food.

The table was set until it was full, and there was no space left for a bowl or a plate. Cora’s gaze remained pinned on Lance, who still had that irritable smug look she wished to slap off his face, along with his expensive glasses.

When they all finally left, her eyes ignored everything else on the table, no matter how premium or rare, and went to the new bottle of wine.

‘You doubt me.’ He wasn’t asking. It was a fact.

She was already filling her glass again. She loved the taste of their wine; it was sweet and tasted like peaches. She could handle her alcohol just fine, so she wasn’t worried about getting drunk just from a few glasses.

‘Oh, am I to trust the deceitful, manipulative murderer who threatened to hurt my friends all to get me to sign his contract?’ The words slipped out in a polite tone even as venom laced each one, and she held her breath.

He didn’t even flinch.

‘I haven’t hurt them now, have I?’ He pointed out, unrepentant of his threats, as he casually reached across to fill her plate for her. She narrowed her eyes at how effortlessly he could do that with no help.

‘Should someone like you even be classified as blind?’ Her eyes sparked with fascination as she tracked his movements. Everything he did was precise, never a slip, never a wrong reach.

‘Being cursed with a few distinctive capabilities that sharpen my faculties in a way that is out of the ordinary, making me hyperaware of things, doesn’t change the fact that I am still legally blind.’ She noted how he referred to his abilities as a curse. ‘I still experience limitations, and I am not exactly invulnerable.’

Her eyes moved between him and the full table before them as he was done with her plate now and was now piling his.

‘How does it work?’ She hesitantly asked, unsure if she should be inquiring about such things. Did she really want to open that door?

In the past, by the time she had brought the scattered pieces into focus and clarity dawned on her about Lance and what he could do, she hadn’t had time to ask questions and had just left. Now, he was here, and she was still very curious about his anomaly.

‘How does what work?’

Everything! She wanted to scream, but held back. ‘How can you “see” now? There are no animals around...’ Her eyes wandered around their booth, looking for any creature hidden in the dimness, but found none. She knew he could stare through their eyes, but she didn’t really know more than that.

He briefly paused, partially surprised she had asked.

‘I can’t.’ He replied, and she stared back at him, even more intrigued.

‘My "sight" isn’t accessible here, so I have to rely on my other senses. This might sound a bit... freakish, but I can still smell the ocean from the salmon over there. This side of the table smells like the forest, which means the fruits are packed there, but this side has a very distinctive earthy aroma to it, so I know it’s the greens. The bread smells fresh, but I’m getting a faint whiff of nuts and cocoa, which could mean the oven was used to bake a chocolate cake before our bread... or chocolate cookies, I can’t be too certain.

‘The butter smells... like butter.’ He chuckled, and Cora caught herself staring. ‘It smells clean though, so I know it’s fresh and not store-bought.' His fork hovered over the table, pausing at each dish as he spoke, and her wide eyes followed every wave of his hand, enthralled.

His sense of smell was that good? Even that of a dog couldn’t be that sharp.

Her mouth opened, but no words came. She had never heard anything like it. It sounded impossible, but she believed it. She had always known there was something more to Lance since the day they met, and she had seen and felt so many strange things around him and his family.

It was real – he was real! And he was sitting opposite her, describing the smell of the food like he had been there when each item had been caught, plucked, cooked, or baked.

The man could tell what had previously been baked in the very oven their bread had been made!

When her silence persisted, his smile faltered, and he straightened. ‘It seems I did in fact freak you out.’

Dahlia caught hold of herself and shook her head. She didn’t want him thinking she saw him as a freak because of his uniqueness. She had her reservations about him, but not because of this. She had only been taken aback by how acute his awareness was. There was nothing human about it, though – that she could testify.

‘No. That’s not true—’

‘Yes, it is. The rhythm of your heartbeat has changed.’

‘You can hear my heartbeat?!’ She squeaked, caught off guard, and Lance visibly recoiled as though he had been struck. She instantly noticed and leaned forward, concerned.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine.’ He massaged his temple. ‘I just don’t react well to certain high-pitched sounds.’

Something clicked then.

‘Sensitive ears.’ She muttered, realization dawning on her as her mind took her nine years back. ‘That’s what you used to say whenever I took you into town. That’s why you hated leaving the house. That’s why you liked the quiet.’

It struck her, his irritation whenever they went into town, his distaste for public spaces, what he had been going through then, and why he reacted the way he did to certain things.

She wondered what it must have been like for him, with his heightened senses, to be thrust into the open where so much was happening all at once.

Not only did he have the nose of a hound, but his hearing was just as sharp.

Strangely, she wasn't disturbed despite all he was revealing to her. Her mind was stacked with so many questions, and he didn’t seem to mind telling her more. Unconsciously, she leaned in closer to study him like a book on a shelf that she had never dared to pick until now.

She never asked questions before and always ignored what was right in front of her. Her mistake and she'd learnt from it.

‘How does it feel like?’

He paused, deliberating on his response.

‘Sometimes I wish I could bury my head underwater if that would make it all stop.’ He admitted soberly. ‘It was worse when I just started to have them.

‘I was still learning to adjust when you came to our house for the first time, but I wasn’t doing it at the pace my father wanted.’

She tilted her head, ‘Still learning... weren’t you born with it?’

‘Not exactly... I mean, you could say I was, but my abilities only manifested when I became a teenager.’ She wanted to ask more when he interrupted her with a chuckle.

‘I like that you want to know about me, Dahlia, and I promise to tell you everything you wish to know if you ask, but let’s finish our dinner at least.’ He smiled at her before drinking from his glass.

She decided she had heard enough for now and focused back on her plate, which he had dished for her. She picked up her fork and pierced her salmon, her shoulders more relaxed now than her stiff demeanor at the start of the evening. Lance casually exposing himself to her had caused some of the tension between them to drain away.

When he refilled her glass, she thanked him. Even with all that had happened, there was a sort of normalcy that had settled between them. Anyone who passed their booth would think them just two normal people having dinner, or a couple on a date.