by Lana Hartley
Fear courses through my body.
The moment my dad was shot, everything was taken from me. The gunfire, the blood—so much blood—that blossomed out of his shirt like roses.
I can’t stand the irony.
My chest heaves, and fresh tears course down my cheeks.
I’ve tried to stop crying, but I can’t.
Where am I? And why have I been taken?
I can hardly see the room around me for the tears in my eyes, but I don’t need to see it to know that it’s modern and expensive.
Shouldn’t I be in a grimy basement somewhere? Why have they taken me to this place, this heart of luxury?
I’m locked away in some guest bedroom with high windows, a king-sized bed, and an en suite.
The bed beneath me is plush. The sheets are silk. And there are chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fresh flowers on the bedside table.
If I hadn’t just been kidnapped and seen my father die, I might take myself for a princess being here in the lap of luxury.
Then, his face flashes across my mind—that mystery guy, my kidnapper, my tormentor. I feel like I know him. I try to not think about him so I can get back to my grieving, but something about that guy has left an ache in my heart, a deep kind of need that I don’t recognize.
The door to the bathroom is ajar, and as the light spills into the room, I can see a freestanding bathtub carved from what looks like a single piece of marble. It’s huge and inviting to my weary soul, and I’m tempted jump in, washing off this entire night.
But I can’t move from the bed. Even if I wanted to, I feel like if I move even an inch, they’d know—no doubt they’re following my movements, listening to me or watching me on secret cameras. It’s just that kind of place—technologically outfitted.
I’m still their prisoner. The fancy surroundings do nothing to distract from that fact. I have been taken, and I don’t know why.
I can see where my captor’s henchmen dropped my sparkly Jimmy Choos after they left me on the bed. This doesn’t seem like the guest bedroom—or the mansion—of some cold-hearted mafioso, who spends his time kidnapping women and doing...
I don’t even want to imagine what they’re going to do to me.
And what are they going to do to my family? I shut my eyes and push past the image of my dad to see the face of my mom—so glamorous and gorgeous in her evening gown.
But her face...my heart aches the memory of her face, twisted in anguish.
A fresh set of tears fills my eyes.
My mom. I have to get back to her.
What have they done to her?
Are they holding her somewhere, the same way they’re holding me?
Or did they leave her behind, powerless to do anything except watch as her world crashes around her?
I can picture her, cradling my dad’s body until the cops arrive—perfect makeup ruined by tears. I wipe away the mascara that runs down my own face, black streaks coming off on my fingers.
I lost my dad.
But she lost her soul mate.
And for all my mom knows, she’s lost me, too.
Time passes, and the tears begin to fall less frequently now. I have cried myself out...for now.
I take a few moments to look around the room, escape on my mind.
The door doesn’t appear to have a lock on it, not from this side anyway, and the windows are spotless, almost as though they aren’t even there in the first place. They frame a set of glass doors, which lead out onto the patio and the pool.
Delicate cream and gold drapes hang loosely either side, fluttering airily from the breeze that cuts across the room from under the door.
I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. This room might currently be a cage—a gilded cage, at that—but its first use was a guest room.
Am I bold enough to do this?
My breathing begins to slow as I become hyper focused.
I look back to the door. This isn’t a prison block; it’s not a space designed to hold captives. It’s a home.
It’s probably the home of the man in the suit—the one who owned the limousine that took us all here—and I still feel my heart beating fast every time I think of him.
He’s handsome, and when he looked at me, I had felt those dark eyes piercing into my soul. He knows something that I don’t—obviously—but when he looked at me, I felt electricity dance over my spine and spread all over my skin.
I shudder at the memory of his gaze, still feeling his dark eyes rake over my body like I was nothing to him but a payday.
I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this.
I need to keep reminding myself that he’s the kind of man who can destroy a family.
He’s the kind of man who can ruin lives and not bat an eye.
He’s evil. His heart must be black and wicked and rotten to the core. He’s the one who killed my dad, even if he didn’t pull the trigger himself.
How long will it be until he decides to kill me, too?
I can’t stay here.
And I can’t rely on anyone to come and rescue me. The cops can try, of course, but this isn’t the first time my captor has done this. He’s a powerful man, not used to failing, I can tell that much.
I need to escape.
I hitch up and hold the side of my dress as I slide off the bed. The thick rug silences my footsteps. I grab my heels in case I need them and prepare to make a run for it.
Whether I have to shatter glass or break down the door, I’ll get out of here.
I pace around the room, trying to summon the courage to run, pausing every so often to listen at the door. If there are guards outside, then I can’t hear them. Which means they can’t hear me.
I guess it’s now or never.
I tiptoe my way over to the glass doors, peering out of them into the night. The main source of light comes from the swimming pool.
A light shroud of mist rises from the water as the heaters work overtime to keep it warm.
From there, I can see sun loungers. And from there, I can see neatly manicured grass. After that, there’s no light, and I’ll be running into darkness.
There’s no moon in the sky to light my path, so I’ll be running blind.
But at least I’ll be running.
I touch the handle of the patio doors, gently applying pressure in case they’re locked or linked up to an alarm or something. But the handle begins to dip, and the lock opens with an unbelievable click.
I bite my lip to stop myself from squealing with excitement. I open the door further, and the night air washes over me. The sudden chill raises goose bumps all over my flesh.
The anticipation of escape makes every sensation more pronounced.
I take a deep breath.
And before I have time to convince myself otherwise, I begin to run. I run fast, faster than ever, knowing my freedom depends on it. I hold my heels as I sprint past the pool.
I haven’t even reached the first row of hedges before I feel hands on my waist. They hold me tight, pulling me back against a chiselled chest that’s hidden beneath an expensive Italian suit.
My captor speaks into my ear—his voice is low and dangerous as he barely contains his rage.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Nate
I pick her up easily, and she fights me but to no avail.
She’ll never get away from me…not now, not ever.
The fact that she even tried to escape would make me chuckle if it wasn’t so fucking dangerous for her to do so.
Yeah, this is Sienna, alright. No one else would dare defy me.
I lift her by the waist off the ground and press her close to my chest. Her legs are kicking in the air, and she continues to struggle. She’s drumming her fists against my chest, hammering my biceps, and she’s tearing at my hair.
I let it all happen.
It’s no use.
I’ve got her in my hold. And I won’t ever let her go.
I ca
n’t believe she’s running. She was in her room for hardly a moment. Within three minutes of setting foot in my mansion, she dares to take off. There is not a shred of doubt that this is the same old Sienna I’ve known—the beautiful but thorny Rose.
Touch her, and you’ll get pricked.
I’ve treasured my memory of her and kept it safe from all the evil and injustice inflicted upon me and the world by Edison Shaw. But the circumstances under which we meet again and which make her run are sad.
Her attitude and wildness is stunning. I’m attracted to her. I want her more than ever. What a bundle of fierce energy. She’s fire and fury, fireworks and dynamite.
She’s throwing her head around, whipping my face with her thrashing long hair.
Now she bends her head down—and she’s biting into my shoulder.
The piercing pain of her bite brings me back from thinking of the Sienna I’ve always known. She’s a fighter, always has been.
“Stop that, Sienna,” I tell her.
She attempts to escape from my hold once more. But I’m too much for her.
She kicks and screams as I march her back to the house.
Eventually, she gives up, out of strength.
She draws a deep breath and sobs heavily. Her legs go limb and she’s crying hard against my shoulder. I still hold her tight, and I place one hand on her back. I gently lower her to the ground, and place her on the grass on her bare feet.
I put both my hands on her shoulder and look at her.
“Let me go!” she screams.
Her eyes light up with mad energy and anger.
I realize she has no clue who I am. I admire her courage and daring escape attempt. She must be frightened, but still she’s ready to fight tooth and nail.
I want her. What energy! It’s a fucking turn-on.
She’s brimming under my hands. Even with tears streaming from her eyes, mascara running down her cheeks and her voice breaking as she yells at me—she’s as fucking sexy as only Sienna can be.
She’s the center of my universe. I realize that my whole life has always revolved around her. But now, more than ever, she’s at the center of everything.
This is the moment.
From now on, my life will forever be divided into a before and after. If only our reunion could’ve been different.
“You can’t leave,” I say matter-of-factly. “Trying to escape is no use. This is my mansion, and I control every inch of the perimeter. Wherever you go, my men will be all over you. So forget about leaving, you don’t stand a chance.”
“What do you want, then?” she snaps. “What do you fucking want from me, with me? Why am I here?”
She attacks like a trapped animal. She can’t stand being told there’s no way out. She continues to be defiant, and it’s driving me wild with desire for her. But underneath it all, I sense that she’s also frightened and confused. It makes me infinitely sad. My heart heaves and I feel a stabbing pain.
I have to reveal myself to her. She deserves as much. I can’t keep my identity from her. She has to know. It breaks my heart to see her hurt.
“Sienna,” I say.
The mention of her name gets her attention. She stares into my eyes, searching. But there’s no flicker of recognition.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” I ask. “You don’t recognize me?”
She’s honestly trying to match my face to a memory, but shakes her head slowly.
“You and I, we go way back,” I begin.
She’s following my words closely. Her eyes are wide open in disbelief.
She wants to wake up from this like a bad dream.
She wants it all undone.
Sienna, I wish I could do that for you, but I can’t.
The only way out is through. For both of us. Only then can we be together again. Like we were before.
So I go on.
“You once knew me. We were best friends. And we made a pact together to remain best friends forever.”
She shivers in the night. With goosebumps standing out on her skin, she hugs herself with her bare arms. Her white and silver gown glitters in what little light there is. She’s an attractive grown woman, but I still see her childhood innocence shining through, despite the horror she’s experienced these past few hours.
Her eyes dart back and forth as the film roll of memories unspools fast in her head. She shakes her head.
She’s fighting it, and her struggle pains me. I can hardly look at her, but I force myself to hold eye contact.
Her voice cracks when she speaks.
“Nathan?”
Her eyes beg me, please don’t let it be true.
I have to be honest with her.
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
I nod.
She draws her lips into a perfect O, and for a split second, I’m taken aback by her purity and beauty.
Then tears well up in her eyes again. She covers her mouth with her hand and falters.
I steady her with my arm.
“No, no, no,” she mumbles, looking at the ground.
I know she’s reliving the scene of her abduction. She’s seeing her father die again, looking for my part in all this. I’m shaken.
“It’s really me,” I say.
“You killed my father!” she screams. “You, monster!”
I’m sorry I can’t undo it, but here and now, I vow to avenge her father’s death.
She falls forward, and I put my arms around her. I hold her against my chest. She sobs into my shirt, and I can feel her hot breath against me.
Another time and place, this would be incredibly arousing.
“It wasn’t me, Sienna,” I try to explain. “Someone evil wanted your father dead. I didn’t know. I wish I had. I would’ve done everything to prevent it.”
“But, you didn’t,” she cries. “He’s dead!”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“Nathan, this is what comes from...the path you’ve chosen.”
I look at her, my face frozen.
“You’ve taken up with murderers. You have my father’s blood on your hands. If you didn’t stop it, you’re no better than them.”
She breaks down crying again.
I pick her up in my strong arms. All the energy has gone out of her. She goes limp and I let it happen.
I retrieve her shoes from where they landed on the grass in her futile attempt to run.
Looking down at Sienna, I see she’s closed her eyes, wanting to shut it all out.
A tear streams from her eye and glints in the light from the pool as I carry her back inside. It’s as if the sparkle and fire with which she was fighting before have finally drained from her, and it hurts me deep inside.
If only she truly knew me.
I take her back to her room and set her down on the bed. At a distance, I sit on the edge, looking at her. She scoots away from me and rests with her back against the wall, drawing her knees close and hugging her arms tightly around them.
“Sienna,” I try once more. “I’m not like those people responsible for your father’s death.”
“What have you become? You’re not the Nathan I know! I hate you! And I don’t ever want to see you again!”
Her words squeeze my heart into a cold, hard ball. For a moment, I want to slap some sense into her. I want to make her understand. Can’t she see I’m on her side? I’m the only one she has left in the world right now.
“Forget about any more escape plans. Don’t even bother trying to leave. I’ll have security on you within seconds,” I say, my voice all cold and emotionless.
She sneers.
“You’ve changed, Nate,” she hisses, seething. “And not for the better.”
That hurts. I don’t move a muscle and don’t show it, but her words sting as if she’s thrown acid in my face.
My mind is reeling. I want to tell her.
She doesn’t know the half of it. All I want is to be with her.
I wanted t
o come back to her as a success on all fronts. But it’s led to this life instead. I’ve wanted to escape the crimes of Edison for a long time. She has no idea how he controlled me, how I was held captive by the mob. Only now, in my position of power, can I break away. Soon, I’ll overtake Edison and will be able to make my move.
But I can’t tell her yet. Now is not the time. I have to get us through this.
I stand in silence and walk to the door.
I give her one last look before our reunion ends. This is not how I pictured it. Did she ever think of me at all?
She’s staring at the wall, away from me, still huddled on the bed. I shut the door.
I linger outside for a moment; half expecting to hear her slide open the terrace door again.
Instead, she wails loudly and throws herself on the bed. My chest constricts in pain. I can’t breathe. I can’t stand her suffering and me having to walk away.
Her fate and life are in my hands now. I have to protect her. Edison can never have her.
And with that, it’s on.
Edison Shaw doesn’t know it yet, but this is how the war begins. There’s no turning back.
It might cost me my life, and Sienna is in danger just by being here with me. But no one else can guarantee her safety. Out there, Edison will find her, and then who knows what fate awaits her at the hand of this sick and evil fuck?
He meant to kill Hudson Rose all along. To him, Sienna is just a pawn in his game, and he’ll eagerly sacrifice her if it means more money and power.
But I won’t let him get her. Only over my dead body.
This is where I fucking draw the line.
Sienna
My heart breaks with each beat. My kidnapper, my captor—he’s been Nate all along.
I thought I was all out of tears, but I was wrong.
So, so wrong.
How could he have done this to me?
I don’t have the energy to sit up on the bed anymore. So, I lay where Nate left me, curled up in the silk sheets.
Once Nate had left, I stripped out of my white gown. I felt like a princess when I put it on—but to look at it now, caked in mud and spatters of blood…
The clock struck midnight, and Cinderella is left with a rotting pumpkin and some rags.
