I can’t tell Rachel all this. I can’t even wrap my own head around it.
“Good,” I type, and bite my lip before deciding to distract her. You were right. Adam Archer is in to me.
RACHEL: Told you!!! Are you going to date him?
ME: We’ll see. Right now I need some time away. I’ll be gone a few days. Working on a breakthrough for Belladonna.
It’s not a lie. If I can win the patents back, everything will be okay.
I’m putting Belladonna’s future—my future—in the hands of a scary, possibly clinically insane, madman. But I don’t have any other choice. Without the patents, Belladonna has zero assets. We don’t own our research. There’s no reason Archer Industries would want to merge with us. I have to get the patents back.
My phone starts ringing. Rachel, calling. Probably confused.
ME: Can’t talk right now—
Before I hit send, I see a new message from an unknown number. Rejecting Rachel’s call, I click on it.
UNKNOWN: Time’s running out, Daphne.
Sure enough, the sun is sinking behind the skyscrapers.
It’s time to head back to the Beast.
Six
Beast
My legs are stiff from standing at the window, waiting. Will she come? Or will she, like her father, try to find a way to worm out of her responsibilities and lash out like a child?
Well, they won’t find me the weakling I once was. I’ve prepared for every outcome. If she makes any move other than submission, everything’s in place.
I’ll bury them.
You should have already. Giving her this opportunity out of sentimentality only proves you are still weak.
I slam the wall and turn away from the window. No. It’s not sentimentality. I only punish the guilty. I, unlike the rest of this fucked up world, am just.
I laugh humorlessly. Because maybe that’s all bullshit. Maybe I just want her for myself. Because I’ve watched her. I’ve watched them all as I’ve plotted my revenge. They all played out their roles over the years exactly as I would have expected.
All except her.
After the influx of capital from selling me the patents, her father expanded the company into cosmetics, made hundreds of millions, setting them up for the merger with Archer Industries. But little Daphne stayed buried away in her basement lab, working away into the wee hours of morning night after night working on the cure for Battleman’s. Determined to find the cure for the disease that killed her mother.
But are her motives really so pure? Or when put to the test, will she disappoint like every other single human being on this earth?
I so hope to have the chance to find out.
I pace back to the window. “Come on, little girl. The sun is setting. Not much time now. What are you willing to do to save your company? Your precious research?”
The sun drops lower in the sky, and with it, my hopes.
I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. I thought I’d lost all capacity for disappointment at this point in my life, but still, it hits me like a slug to the guts. I grab a vase from a stand nearby and throw it against the wall, turning away from the window.
At the same time I hear the roar of a car engine below.
I whip back around to look out the window. The car pulls to a stop on the circle drive right in front of the mansion and her tiny, waif-like body steps tentatively out. A masculine thunder of satisfaction floods my chest.
She’s here. She came.
I’ll teach her she’s so much more than what they made her.
But first I have to break the mold of who she is so she can be reborn.
Seven
Daphne
The wind picks up as the taxi pulls away, leaving me in front of the castle. The stone face rises up stark and beautiful. My new home. For however long it takes.
I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’m doing this. My comfortable work shoes scuff the fancy patterned stonework as I work up the nerve to grab the heavy brass door knocker. Shaped like a demonic beast head, of course.
I can’t believe I’m about to throw myself on the mercy of a madman to save my company. But Belladonna and my research are my life. Without them, what do I have left? Who am I?
A crisp ringing cuts the air. I leap about ten feet, fumbling for my cell phone. Adam’s calling. My thumb hovers over the screen. Should I answer? Shit, I disappeared from the ball. I owe him an explanation.
Tucking myself into the archway to get out of the wind, I raise the phone to my ear. “Hello, Adam.”
“Daphne! There you are. I’ve been so worried.” My phone beeps, belatedly telling me I have several missed calls. I kept it off for most of the day, only turn it on at the end of the drive to text Rachel again, telling her not to worry. I meant to turn it off by now, but when my finger hovered over the power button, I couldn’t bring myself to press it. Maybe I needed to feel connected to something familiar. Or maybe needing a way out—my last chance to call the cops.
“Sorry. I’ve been…distracted.”
Adam says something but his words are all broken up.
“Adam? Can you hear me? The reception is going in and out.” I step away from the building’s stone face.
“Where are you?” Adam asks. “We need to talk. Are you at your apartment? Or the lab? I’ll come get you.”
“Um, no, I’m not home or at Belladonna. Listen, I’m taking a few days off. I working on…something. Something important.” Were those footsteps beyond the door? I’ve got to explain things to Adam before the Beast shows up. “I’ve got to go—”
“Daphne, please listen. I need to apologize.”
Apologize to me? “What?” The door creaks and I turn away.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. All those things I said—I’ve been wanting to say them for a long time.”
My mouth falls open. I can’t believe this is happening now. The door yawns open behind me, filled with shadow.
“I know you’re not experienced in these things,” Adam says. “We can take it slow—”
“Adam, I really, really can’t talk about this right now. If you’d just—”
A large hand closes over mine, snatching my cell phone out of my grasp. The hand grips it so hard the screen cracks, then lets it fall to the stone floor. A polished shoe kicks it onto the lawn.
I gape as the Beast looms over me. “Oh my gods! You’re crazy.”
The Beast lunges forward.
Eight
Beast
“Please,” Daphne begs. “I came like you said. What are you going to do to me?”
I tug her along, ignoring her pleas. I’d prepared a room for her, full of warmth and comfort. I thought she might not be tainted, too far gone. She might deserve better than her cheating father and lying lover.
I was wrong. She’s just like them. She deserves nothing. She dares to come to me with his name on her lips? She deserves every punishment I’ve planned.
Her cries echo down the hall as I drag her to the stairs. Her purse falls to the floor, its contents scattering.
“Stop this!” she screams.
Her glasses go flying. She fights harder until I catch her wrists and draw her close.
“Stop. I can’t see,” she pants. She’s always been a little nearsighted. Has her eyesight gotten worse? She stares up at my face, her gaze vague, confused.
Once she looked at me with affection. Awe. No more. Never again.
Because of him.
Growling, I bend at the waist and toss her over my shoulder. She pounds on my back, which has as much effect as a sparrow fighting a storm. I take the stairs two at a time. My heart pumps like bellows, the heat of my rage spreading through me.
I don’t stop until I’m at the top of the tower. There’s a prison here, a cage I designed especially for her. I hadn’t thought to use it so soon, but…
“Welcome to your new home.” I tell her, easing her down to the floor. As soon as she catches her bearings
, she flies at me, but I clang the door shut.
In the dim light, she squints at me. I wait for her eyes to widen, some sign of recognition. But her features twist in anger.
“I knew you were crazy.” She grasps the bars, her body shaking. With emotion or cold? The tower is chilly, and with the sun going down, the temperature will only drop.
I turn away before I grow weak, start feeling pity for my captive.
“This was a mistake,” she mutters half to herself. “I should’ve gone to the cops!”
I pause on the top step. “Why didn’t you?”
“I thought I could talk to you. Make you see reason.” Her voice sounds so woeful, I clench my fists to keep from returning, unlocking the door. We could sit like we used to. I could explain everything…
No. She and her father showed me no mercy. Now it’s her turn to suffer.
“Too late for that, princess,” I tell her, and leave her shivering in the cold.
Nine
Daphne
When I was a girl, I’d play at being princess. While my mother worked in her garden, I’d romp around, pretending the rose bushes were my castle. I imagined lush rooms with roaring fireplaces and floor-to-ceiling windows with views to beautiful gardens. My imaginary castle also boasted a fully-equipped laboratory. Because even when I played princess, I still was a scientist.
I never imagined I’d find myself in an actual castle. Much less locked in a tower.
Correction: locked in a cage inside a tower. Floor-to-ceiling bars mark the boundaries of my prison.
Wind whistles around the turret, setting my teeth on edge. The sound is un-ending, along with the cold. Winter came early this year.
I tuck my feet under me, but it’s no use. The flagstones are freezing. It rained a little last night, and the water that seeped in froze before dawn.
Things got a little better when the sun got high, but now it’s sinking again. Along with my hopes.
I press my forehead to my knees, shivering. I should’ve worn something thicker than leggings and a light sweater. My chest feels hollow and my head aches. The start of a cold or something more sinister? My immune system isn’t strong at the best of times, and the stress of the past few days and this chill isn’t helping.
My only hope is the brutal Beast, who dragged me here in the first place. But he’s obviously a few bats short of a belfry.
Why am I always so sure I can fix things? That people will listen to logic? Life isn’t a science problem. You can’t always come up with a logical hypothesis and expect people to react in predictable ways to achieve desirable outcomes. Even science rarely works that way. Some problems take decades and longer to solve. There’s too much chaos in the world.
And the Beast is the perfect expression of chaos made flesh.
A heavy step on the stair makes me lift my head. The Beast appears, his mask firmly in place. What does it hide? I wish I had my glasses. His hair looks thick and lush, but I could be wrong. I’ve never seen him clearly.
When he catches me staring, his dark eyes flash. He glares back. But I’m used to it.
The key clinks in the lock and the door slides against the flagstones, admitting a shiny pair of shoes. The Beast dresses well, at least. Tailored slacks, expensive sweater over a dress shirt.
Jailor-chic.
I remain curled in a ball, unwilling to give up any of my body heat to greet my guest.
He sets a tray down on the floor a foot in front of me.
“Dinner is served.” His voice is deep, slightly raspy. Somehow familiar. I search my memory but I’m cold and tired and on my best day I’m not good at placing names and faces. Besides, no one I know is as big as this guy, wears a mask, or is completely psychotic.
I peer at the food he brought—some bread and a bowl of water. There’s a skim of ice on the water’s surface.
The blurry face of the Beast studies me a moment. Waiting for me to beg for mercy?
Holding my gaze, he slides the door shut. The lock clicks home.
“You think this will break me?” I blurt before I can stop myself. “I can handle cold and hunger. But if the temperature drops much more, I might not survive the night.” I can list the exact effects of exposure on the body, but I bite my tongue.
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust a word you say.”
“I’m not the one who’s broken my word.” He starts to turn away.
I launch myself at the bars, wincing as my fingers close around the cold metal. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is!”
He stops with a foot on the stairs. “I want you to be the girl you once were. One who keeps her promises.”
“I keep my promises. All my life, all I’ve ever done is what I’m supposed to do.” What my father expected of me.
“You did what they wanted you to.”
“Is that so wrong?” I throw my hands up in the air. “My research will save lives.”
“Not if I destroy your company.” His lips curl under the mask. Such a cruel smirk. So why does his mouth mesmerize me?
He descends a few more steps. I slump to the floor. “You want me to become someone I never was. My father shaped me to follow in his footsteps. Continue his research. You want someone who was pure, untainted? You should’ve met my mother.”
“I did.” He hasn’t moved, hasn’t descended any lower. His face is on the same level as mine.
“You knew her?” I press my face against the bars, ignoring the chill. “Tell me how you knew her!” It’s been years since she’s died, but I’m hungry for any memory I can get.
“She was kind to me. When few people were.”
“She was like that.” I try to study his features behind the mask. “Wait. Were you in love with her?”
His forehead creases. He takes a moment to answer, as if considering my question. “I loved her as a child loves a mother. As a prodigal son loves the parent who welcomes him home.”
“Then who hurt you? How can I know what I did if you don’t tell me?” I mumble, staring at the floor. He wants humble? I can do humble. It’s getting hard to hold myself up and the flagstones look soft.
My skin feels numb. Frostbite setting in? Soon I won’t feel anything at all.
“You made a promise, then you broke it.” Suddenly, he’s looming over me. The bars are gone. “But now it’s time for you to make amends.”
The Beast is carrying me. He lifted me easily into his arms and strides smoothly down the spiral staircase. Guess his size isn’t just for show. I’m too tired to fight, so I nestle in his arms, resting my face on the soft cashmere.
The further away from the tower, the warmer it gets. I relax.
“I was right,” he mutters. “You have no tolerance for suffering.”
“I’ve suffered. You have no idea.”
“You grew up in the lap of luxury.” He scoffs as he glides us through another door and down another staircase. “I’ve seen Thornhill.”
He knows my family’s home?
“Just because we lived in a big house didn’t mean we had the means to heat it.” We pass a massive fireplace and I struggle upright in his arms, drawn to the fire like a moth to a flame.
In an unusual act of kindness, the Beast sets me down on the carpet in front of it. Immediately I hold my hands out to the blaze.
“I remember winters at Thornhill,” I tell the Beast. He grabs a large, heavy looking chair with a back higher than he is, and drags it over like it weighs nothing. Seating himself, he motions me to go on.
“My father would scrounge the forest for wood to burn in the fireplace. My mother would heat stones on the hearth, and tuck them in bed with me, to warm my feet.” One of those bricks sounds great about now. My fingers tingle painfully as they warm up. I blink back tears.
The Beast leans forward and captures my hand in his. His large fingers are surprisingly gentle as he rubs life back into mine.
I realize I�
�m kneeling at the Beast’s feet while he holds my hand. Up close, I can see the mottled skin at the edge of his mask. Some scarring. Is he a war victim? Was his flesh burned? Did he use a medicine my company invented and suffer horrible side effects? Is that what all this is about?
His dark eyes challenge mine and I dart my gaze away, clearing my throat.
“So, yeah, that was life at Thornhill. It was hard, but it was home.”
He releases me, sitting back in the chair. With his long fingers steepled in front of his face and profile gilt in firelight, he looks like a monarch in repose.
And I’m the supplicant at his feet. I don’t like sitting here, but my legs are too stiff for me to move.
Or I could pretend we’re a happy couple, just back from a walk in our winter garden. He built up this fire for me like my dad used to, and we’ll stay up late, lounging in front of it together…
“What are you thinking about?” I ask when the silence stretches. I can’t forget he’s my captor, and I’m at his mercy. Any chance to get in his head, I should take it.
Not fantasize that we’re a couple, ala Stockholm Syndrome.
“I’m surprised your father didn’t sell out sooner.” I must be used to his deep voice, because it’s soothing. “He would’ve done anything for your mother.”
“Yes. But he couldn’t. His research was her only hope.” I flinch as I always do when talking about my mother’s disease. The Beast is studying me so I quickly add, “Besides, we didn’t need more than what we had. We had each other.”
“A touching story.” he sneers at the fire. “I suppose love kept you warm?”
I raise my chin. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I understand perfectly. Your mother died. Your father turned into a shell of his former self.”
I flinch with each denouncement as if he’s struck me.
Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set Page 5
