Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Both of us finish our breakfast, and I change into business attire, knowing how important it is to Dawson that I dress professionally regardless of where I am. By the time I’m changed, Dawson is already out the door and on his way to the office.
I can’t help but buzz with excitement, knowing I can rush to get everything I need to do early, then spend the rest of the day lounging and drawing in my room without consequence. As long as I answer the phone when Dawson calls, I should be good.
I spend the first part of the morning going through emails and responding to press inquiries and requests for meetings with business partners. Dawson’s schedule starts filling up for the next couple of weeks, and I send him a few text messages to inform him of the big meetings he has coming up.
After that, he gives me a bunch of tasks, including going through his closet and finding anything that’s over a year old to donate next week at an annual clothing drive the business has. The amount of suits he has is almost disturbing, but I keep that thought to myself as I research the brands and models of suits. When I’m confident all the ones I’ve selected are at least a year old, I put them all in a box that I labeled for donation and leave it in the living room as instructed by Dawson.
By the time I’m done with that, it’s nearly lunchtime, and I can hear Maggie in the kitchen preparing something for me even though I didn’t request it. I’m about to head outside and tell her not to bother—I can just make myself a sandwich—when the doorbell rings.
“I’ve got it!” Maggie shouts through the penthouse. I slip on my heels just in case it’s Dawson forgetting his keys or something. Ever since I’ve been here, we haven’t had any visitors. Henry hasn’t even come to say hi.
Just a moment after Maggie shouts about the door, she lets out a shrill scream that makes my blood curdle. I’m frozen for a moment, but I quickly kick my ass in gear to see what’s going on. Maggie is older, and I don’t know how well she would fare in a fight if something bad were to happen. I can’t let her face whatever this is alone.
I’m faced with immediate regret when I open my bedroom door to see Maggie on the ground, a wound on her head bleeding, as she lies on the ground unconscious. Three large men stand around her with scowls on their faces as their eyes scan the room. The one in the center looks at me and whispers something under his breath to the others.
I know I have to run. I immediately turn around and slam the door to my bedroom shut, hoping it might be enough to keep them at bay. I’m about to run to the window and attempt to lock myself out on the balcony to call for help, but before I can even cross the room, the door is kicked down.
Everything happens too quickly. One of the men grabs my arms, and I struggle against him, flailing my body around to try to wiggle away. Then another one comes and helps him, slapping duct tape over my mouth so tightly I can barely breathe. Zip ties are wrapped around my wrists to keep me from fighting back.
I try to scream, but my voice is muffled. With nobody else on the floor of the penthouse but me and Maggie, it’s no use, anyway. My only hope now is that somebody sees what’s happening when we leave, and they call the police to help me.
The men drag me out of the penthouse, and I expect them to lead me toward the elevator I usually take, but they don’t. Instead, they lead me to the stairwell and lift me up to carry me down. After a few floors, we come across a rooftop exit, and we leave. They lower the fire escape and carry me down. That’s when I see the black SUV parked in the alley waiting for me.
This isn’t some random attempt. This was carefully planned and thought out. My stomach twists thinking about what this is.
Eventually, I’m thrown in the SUV, and a blindfold is put over my eyes that I can’t fight against. Nobody says anything as we drive. Even though I can’t see where we’re going, I try to focus on what turns the driver makes. Maybe if I can memorize some sort of route, I can escape and find my way back.
I don’t know how much time passes, but we eventually stop, and my blindfold is taken off to reveal a sprawling mansion my mother would quite literally kill to set eyes on. A few other black SUVs are parked outside, and I search for any sign of where I am.