The Maybach was less a car and more a soundproof, high-speed capsule of power. The instant Lu Wei pulled onto the main road, the world of Willow Creek vanished into a muddy, insignificant blur. The acceleration was brutal, pushing me deep into the rich, cool leather of the seat—a softness that felt utterly foreign against my worn tunic. My body was still vibrating from the adrenaline and the shock of his touch, a searing, electric memory of non-negotiable transfer.
I was breathing hard, my eyes locked onto the side mirror, watching the last recognizable bend of the road disappear. The Workshop, my grandmother's legacy, my two years of self-imposed peace—gone. Lu Wei drove with the same cold, ruthless precision he applied to everything else: focused, fast, and entirely dismissive of any external obstacles. He drove like a man who owned the very road beneath the tires.
"Stop staring at the rearview," he commanded, his voice a low, steady rumble that barely carried over the powerful engine's hum. "It's a wasted effort. That town no longer exists for you."
I whipped my head forward, meeting his profile. His jawline was severe, his gaze fixed on the highway ahead. He hadn't just removed me from a location; he had erased a segment of my life.
"You kidnapped me," I stated, the anger finally overcoming the fear. "You illegally tracked my data, manipulated local law enforcement, and used my grandmother's property as blackmail. You call that business?"
"I call it mitigation," he corrected, glancing briefly at me, a flicker of cold amusement in his dark eyes. "You were a dangerous vulnerability tied to an ongoing national security threat. I preempted a messy, public arrest and secured an invaluable asset—your highly specialized intellect. That is excellent business."
The temperature inside the car seemed to drop by ten degrees. He wasn't wrong. His actions, stripped of emotion, were flawless logic—the same terrifying logic I had once admired in his company's patents.
"And now I'm your employee?" I scoffed. "A security risk with an employment contract?"
"Precisely." He reached to the console, and a smooth, silver compartment silently opened. He pulled out a small, encrypted tablet—thinner and more advanced than anything I had ever researched—and handed it to me. "Your terms are non-negotiable. You work for Lu Global Security for the duration of the Obsidian File investigation. You have absolute discretion on your projects, unlimited resources, and a generous salary deposited daily into an anonymous account."
My fingers closed around the cold metal of the tablet. The weight of it felt like a shackle forged of gold. My analytical mind, ever the pragmatist, immediately began to parse the situation, compartmentalizing the terror.
He needs my skill. I am valuable. Valuable assets can demand terms.
"And the price?" I challenged, ignoring the tempting numbers already flickering across the screen.
"Absolute compliance. Zero unauthorized contact. You live where I tell you to live, and you only speak when I instruct you to speak. Your life, until this is over, is a closed system," he stated, his voice flat. "Consider it the logical inverse of your life in Willow Creek. There, you were trapped by poverty and petty resentment. Here, you are trapped by opulence and corporate mandate."
His words struck me hard. He saw my quiet, isolated life not as a sanctuary, but as a closed system he could simply reverse-engineer and control. He understood my weakness better than I did: my fear of chaos and my desperate need for stability.
I opened the tablet. The salary was astronomical—an obscene amount that could pay for the Workshop, my grandmother's entire estate, ten times over. I saw the fine print regarding the property transfer: ironclad legal protection for my annex, transferring the deed to a holding corporation. He had secured my peace for a terrifying price.
"You really think money buys everything, Lu Wei?" I asked, my voice laced with the bitterness of a person who had spent her life watching people prioritize money over honesty.
He finally turned his head, holding my gaze for a dangerously long moment before his eyes flicked back to the highway. "I think the lack of it cost you your freedom today. And it almost cost you your grandmother's legacy. Don't confuse my use of resources with a personal offer; it is merely necessary overhead."
His honesty, though brutal, was unexpectedly clean. It was the logic I respected, devoid of the sentimental lies people usually told.
As the Maybach devoured the highway, the world outside transitioned from farmland to sprawling, geometric density. The sun was setting, casting the sky in bruised purples and grays, silhouetting the skyscrapers of the Capital—monuments to the very power that now held me captive.
My adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a deep, hollow realization of my new reality. My past life of quiet resentment and academic pursuit was over. I was now a volatile ingredient in a war waged by the wealthy and the invisible.
I gripped the jade pendant beneath my shirt, the cold stone giving me a momentary anchor. I had been pulled into the fire. My only way out was to fight the fire with fire—to use my intellect to prove my innocence and, more importantly, to prove Lu Wei's assumption of control over me was fatally flawed.
I opened the chat function on the encrypted tablet. I had to establish the new dynamic immediately: I was not a victim; I was an analyst.
The car's velocity didn't change, but Lu Wei's gaze flicked sharply to the side mirror, a dark intensity returning to his eyes. He didn't respond immediately. He was calculating the intelligence of my opening move.
"That," he replied, his voice barely audible, "is precisely the first piece of information you will be analyzing when we arrive. Your job is to tell me why we waited two weeks."
I felt a surge of cold satisfaction. I had engaged his mind, momentarily bypassing his arrogance.
The Obstacle: A Demonstration of Power
Just as the Capital's skyline became visible through the bulletproof glass, a harsh static erupted from the car's speakers.
"Sector 4 security advisory," a synthesized voice crackled. "Route 7 has been flagged. Proceed to secondary extraction point immediately."
Lu Wei didn't react outwardly, but the muscles in his jaw tightened. He flicked a small toggle switch near the steering wheel.
"Explain," he ordered into the air.
"Sir, we have two civilian vehicles attempting to box you in," a new voice, calm and professional, replied instantly. "They're running interference patterns consistent with the Consortium's lower-level retrieval teams. They know you have an asset."
My blood ran cold again. The Consortium. The people who framed me, the people who owned the Obsidian File. They were actively trying to intercept us.
Lu Wei didn't look at me. "Clear the route."
The security voice was immediately efficient. "Executing. Opening immediate transit corridor on the inner elevated line. Hold speed."
The car didn't slow. Instead, Lu Wei expertly maneuvered the Maybach onto a narrow, unauthorized ramp leading up to an elevated rail maintenance path—a place clearly not meant for traffic. The smooth leather seat was the only thing preventing me from slamming against the side door as the car executed the hairpin turn.
"This is reckless!" I gasped, clutching the tablet.
"This is necessary," he corrected, his eyes gleaming with a predatory focus that made him terrifyingly attractive. "My security requires absolute velocity. Sit back."
As we sped along the elevated track, two massive transport vehicles, painted to look like commercial sanitation trucks, suddenly appeared below us, blocking the primary highway lanes we had just left. It was a perfectly executed maneuver, designed to force a confrontation.
Lu Wei's lip curled slightly. "Amateurs."
He didn't need to fight them. He had simply bypassed the entire level of conflict, using resources and knowledge that put him two steps ahead. It was a terrifying, visceral demonstration of the power I was now inextricably linked to.
I realized then that my job wasn't just analysis; it was surviving the crossfire between two global powers, with Lu Wei acting as my personal, ruthless shield.
The elevated line merged smoothly back onto the highway just as the first massive skyscrapers loomed above us. The Capital was a glittering, aggressive fortress of commerce.
Lu Wei finally braked, pulling the Maybach into a discreet, underground garage that smelled of ozone and filtered air. It was a world away from the damp earth of Willow Creek.
We stopped directly beneath a structure that dwarfed all others: the Lu Global Security and Financial Tower. A black monolith of glass and steel, soaring into the evening sky.
"We're here," Lu Wei said, cutting the engine. The resulting silence was deafening. "Get out."
He opened his door, and his shadow fell over me. As I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the polished concrete, two identically dressed, large security guards immediately materialized from the shadows, their faces blank.
"Ms. Xu Ling is now under my personal contract," Lu Wei informed them, his voice echoing in the vast space. "She has Level 5 access to the R&D wing and the secure analytical center. She is to be treated as a valuable asset. Any attempt at external contact or unauthorized movement is to be reported directly to me."
He didn't look at me, but I felt the weight of the security guards' scrutiny. My life was now dictated by his security hierarchy.
Lu Wei turned, his eyes finally locking on mine—a final, cold assessment.
"Welcome to your employment, Ms. Xu Ling. Try not to cause me any further security issues." He gestured toward a discreet, silver elevator door. "Your analyst housing unit is on the 88th floor. Your badge will be waiting. I expect your initial report on the security failure by dawn."
He walked toward a private lift, leaving me alone with the two silent guards and the crushing reality that my quiet, solitary life had been replaced by the absolute, demanding control of the most powerful man in the Capital. My fight for freedom had just begun, and it would be waged on his terms, in his fortress.