“Yeah, yeah,” Gabriel groaned. “Drive safe, Anna Victoria.”
Getting into her Mercedes, she turned the engine on and drove out to Main Street. Soon, she was pulling into the familiar driveway of J.D.’s house, parked in the empty spot next to the garage, then got out of her car.
A chill passed through her. “Brrr …” Tightening her coat around herself, she hopped up the porch steps. However, when she reached for the knob, the door was already ajar. Strange. J.D. would never leave the door unlocked. Or open.
“Hello, Anna Victoria.”
Ice froze in her veins. No. Oh God, no. But how—
“What? Did you think you could hide from me forever?” The voice made her skin crawl, as it always did. “You know I’d find you anywhere.”
Her gut tightened in knots as she slowly turned around. “Mr. Jameson.”
“Tsk, tsk? So formal with your fiancé?”
Edward Jameson stepped forward, a cool smile on his face. He wasn’t an overly tall man, maybe an inch shy of six feet, with patrician features and a full head of hair that was silvering at the temples. Most people would call him handsome or distinguished, but there was always an edge to him—a cruel smirk to his mouth or sharpness in his eyes that no one else seemed to notice except her. As usual, he was accompanied by two menacing-looking men in dark suits. They stood like silent sentinels beside him, neither one speaking or reacting as they remained alert, ready to pounce at any sign of danger.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” he sneered. “You didn’t think you could get away from me that easily, did you?”
“I left a note.” Okay that sounded pathetic, but it’s not like they were in love or even in a relationship. “I told my father I couldn’t go through with the wedding.”
“Couldn’t go through with it?” he mocked.
“If you want your—your bag, you can have it.” she said. “It’s in the trunk of my car.” She couldn’t bear to touch it, even to take it out, knowing where that money came from.
“So that’s where it was,” he said. “We searched everywhere in the house.”
“Let me get it for you, and then you can leave.”
“Leave?” he scoffed. “Have you forgotten that we had an agreement? Marry me and your father’s debts would be forgiven.”
Her stomach roiled. How could she have agreed to such a thing? Well, she had no choice, after all. Her father had made that very clear, that night when she walked into his study.
She had been shocked when he told her she had to marry Jameson. “You’re … you’re just trading me? Like I’m some sort of object? You’re joking right? Are we in the Dark Ages? You can’t—” The slap had come so fast; the shock had silenced her. The sting came right after, but it couldn’t have hurt her more than his words.
“Listen, you spoiled little bitch,” he snarled. “I’ve clothed you, fed you, paid for everything for twenty-five years so you could run around with your friends and party your life away. The way I see it, I own you, and if I want to trade you away, I can do it. Besides, if you say no, then you can say goodbye to everything—this house, your car, your credit cards, because my creditors will come in here and start hauling it all away. You will marry him, Anna Victoria,” he said. “You owe me.”
What could she have said at that moment? Her whole world was collapsing. She had no job, no prospects, what could she do?
The very next day, she met her “groom” at his house for dinner with him and her father. At least he wasn’t old and decrepit, she had thought, though Edward Jameson was probably twenty years older than her. However, the moment he laid eyes on her, she already felt dirty. He launched right into wedding preparations, and it seemed everything had already been planned, from the ceremony to the reception venue, even her gown. All she had to do was show up.
But as the wedding drew closer, she knew deep in her heart something was wrong. Plus, there were whispers here and there, about Jameson’s connections to the cartels down south. A few days before the wedding, she scrounged up all her courage to go to his penthouse on Central Avenue to tell him she wasn’t going to marry him.
However, he probably wasn’t expecting her show up one late one evening. From where she stood in the entryway, she could hear the shouts and harsh words, but she walked right in anyway. Jameson was there, but he wasn’t alone. Aside from his two bodyguards, there was a fourth person—a short and balding man she had recognized as the local police chief. She quickly apologized and excused herself, and dashed out.
The next day, Jameson acted like nothing had happened, but he did have one of his bodyguards put a large duffel bag in the trunk of his car. The duffel bag.
Then the morning of the wedding came and she saw the headline on her phone’s news alert notification: Police Chief Suspected of Bribery Found Dead in the Desert. Her instincts screamed at her, and she immediately went to retrieve the bag in the trunk of her car. She could barely open it because her hands shook so bad, but when she did and saw the cash, it all connected and clicked in her brain; there was no way she could marry Jameson.
His scornful voice knocked her out of her reverie. “I don’t have time for this. You’re mine, bought and paid for, and you’re coming back with me. Tonight.”
“Coming with you? Are you going to tie me up and take me forcibly?”
“If I have to.” His tone was serious. “But I know you’ll come with me. Unless you want something to happen to your dear old daddy.”
She flinched visibly. While it was David’s fault she was in this mess, she didn’t hate him enough to
