Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
He hasn’t outright told me what the rules are or why guards are hovering about the property outside, but instead uses them as his carrier pigeons, delivering grunted messages that I’m not allowed out. I’m imprisoned again for reasons he doesn’t think I need to know, and my only contact with the outside world is the phone he gave me, which I’m fairly certain is linked to his. I don’t doubt he can see everything on it, so I have to be careful what I say or do, but I know with every passing day, it’s time to seriously consider my options.
The first and most viable option is to approach my brother, but right now that’s not even possible with the current circumstances. I’ve been texting him occasionally for reports on Ivy and the baby, and he’s given me terse replies. At least, that was until last week, when he sent me a message to inform me the baby had been born healthy, and she was being well cared for. It was a happy and sad moment as I stared at the first photo of my niece from a screen. But the news wasn’t all good because when I asked, there was still no improvement with Ivy. I didn’t have to hear Santiago’s voice to feel his heartbreak. What started as a war had evolved to something else, and in my present circumstances, I can finally understand that.
I feel remorse for the way I’ve treated Ivy. I feel partially responsible for what happened to her too. And I wish more than anything I hadn’t held on to my anger for so long. Being where I am now, I can see things through a different lens. I can see her humanity, her fragility, and the simple truth is that she and I aren’t all that different. We are both trapped in a world we’ve been trying to navigate the only way we know how. Her captor was my brother, and mine is Judge. And despite all odds, Santi has developed feelings for her. Feelings I have no doubt are love. I feel it’s only fair that one of us gets their happy ending, and I find myself praying every day for her recovery so that it can be her.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’ve considered contacting Clifton. When I told Judge I needed to find a husband, I wasn’t just goading him. The thought entered my mind more than a few times already that I can only make the best of the situation I’m in. I’m a hostage to The Society until I can either convince Santi to give me my portion of the inheritance I’m owed or find someone to marry me. Judge has made it clear it won’t be him, and if I truly intend to protect myself, I can’t allow him to find out what I’ve done.
Like in any other hostage situation, the only way out is through negotiation. Clifton is a Sovereign Son, but he’s unwed because he’s looking for an affluent wife to pad his bank account. The Phillips line isn’t nearly as wealthy as the De La Rosas, and my dowry is undoubtedly a shiny, bright beacon to him. He isn’t at all romantic, and I realize now that I shouldn’t be either. We can make a business deal. I could tell him the truth about my situation, and he would agree to it because the benefit to him outweighs any feelings he might have about my circumstances. We could have a shotgun wedding, sign the contract, and live in harmony as roommates who are free to do as they please with nobody being any wiser.
It all sounds good in theory, but as I type out a draft message to the phone number I’d hidden in my clutch, I’m still not convinced I can bring myself to do it. A wave of nausea rolls over me at the prospect of bearing his family crest on my neck. It feels like a betrayal, a hot knife to the heart. But what choice do I have?
I write the text over and over again, rewording it, trying to remain vague but interested as I propose we have a conversation at the next Society event two weeks from now. There’s no guarantee I’ll actually be able to sneak off to do that, but I’ll have to try if I really plan to follow through with this. The alternative is being locked up like a prisoner with a man who runs so hot and cold that he’ll never agree to my release or my capture.
“Fucking hell.” I toss the phone aside with a sigh and collapse onto the bed. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“Everything okay, dear?” Lois pops her head through the doorway, and I glance up at her with a smile.