His voice even seemed to change, losing its high-pitched lilt and deepening into a horrifying haunting bass.
"You don't have a choice. You are lucky that I have no intention of harming you tonight. Consider it a wedding present. Once we are married, you will be mine. And when you're mine, I will want nothing but obedience. The less of a fuss you make now, the easier this will be on you. I'm saying this for your own good," he sneered.
I glowered back at him. The lengths to which Will had gone just to get me under his finger and to use me as a tool to feel powerful again did not scare me. He disgusted me. While I blamed my brother in part, the person who I held pure disdain for stood right before me.
"If you're going to hurt me you might as well do it now.”.
He chuckled, "don't worry. I'll get the chance."
He approached the door to the room I was in. I took a moment to observe the seersucker wallpaper and the large closet. The room had been decorated for a woman. He'd gone to such lengths to prepare that he really did believe he would marry me.
I continued to stare. I feared what would happen if I took my eyes off him even for an instant.
When he reached the doorway, he turned around and glowered at me.
"I will let you alone tonight and bring you into the city tomorrow morning. The next time you come here, you won't be so comfortable unless you're obedient."
"There won't be a next time," I snapped, "you don't have to worry."
He chuckled and then left, shutting the door behind him and turning a key in the lock. I rushed to the door as he left and jiggled the handle to find that the bedroom was indeed locked. I was his prisoner.
The Brother
INDIE
"I'll help you, but this is extreme."
My kind patron adjusted his hoodie, the hood further over his head so no one could make out his features. I did the same. We agreed to meet in a small brewery in Brooklyn, one more frequented by hipsters than folks of our ilk in society.
In relative disguise and virtually unrecognizable, I figured it would be safe.
Our thin, tall barista brought over our two cappuccinos. After much argument, Ames had finally convinced her to make them in proper European-style. I don't think she had a clue what he was talking about, but she got them right in the end.
"Thank you," I muttered.
"It's no problem."
"I would have asked your brother – –"
"I get why you didn't," he replied.
Neither he nor I saw any reason to discuss that matter further.
Since my incident with Will Harkness, I had been eager to get out of the city. The next morning, after Will had locked me in a bedroom overnight, my brother had arrived right at 9 AM with a big smile on his face and a large mug of Starbucks coffee as if that would be all it took to make me not want to kill him. The only bright side was that Will wasn't the one who returned me to the city.
I still preferred my brother's company to his.
As promised, Will had left without touching me, but his threats and insinuations that future violence awaited me were threats that I believed. He could have done anything to me and no one would have heard. In fact, my own brother had fed me to the wolves.
I didn't say a single word to Jamal the entire drive back to New York. When he dropped me off at my place I slammed his car door so hard that he almost got out and smacked me. Take that, Mercedes.
Since then, I had worked quickly, reaching out to the one contact I knew who could get me out of the city alive.
Our family lawyers, my brother's personal security team and a private investigator had been following Rich for about two weeks. I suspected Ames and I were also being tailed but I couldn't prove it. We'd taken precautions however and I was certain our café meeting was safe.
The restraining order meant that contacting Richard would be too risky. Plus, there wasn't much he could do from Italy. I had to see his brother, Ames.
"Take the documents," he murmured.
"Is that it?"
Ames shook his head.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wallet. I felt it's weight with a slight bend in my wrist before tucking it into my purse.
"Thank you."
"Are you sure you don't want me to tell him?" he asked.
"What's the point? He's not even near the city right now. Don't tell him, Ames. He shouldn't know I've left."
Ames nodded. I was right. While Richard was being followed halfway across the world, he had his hands more than full down here.
"So when do I leave?"
"In a few days. The 18th I believe."
I took a large sip of my cappuccino and considered what that would mean. I had only three days to say goodbye to everybody. After I left, that would be it.
My plane landed and I exited the first with the rest of the first-class passengers.
"I hope you had a wonderful trip, Mrs. Gregory," the first-class flight attendant said to me.
I smiled and nodded, leaving the plane with my new passport clutched in my hands.
International travel always has far greater security than domestic, so all Ames could arrange for me on such short notice, and without detection, was a trip into Los Angeles. The city was far enough away, and I could assume a new identity without anyone tracking me down. Ever.
I'd be free. Phase 2 would go into effect a few days after my departure to make detection more difficult.
I had wanted to go to Italy, ideally, to have a chance of being with Richard again, but Ames assured me the risk was too great. He promised to help but I had to do everything he asked, including forfeit my dreams of hiding out abroad.
I shed my identity easily. It was the life I thought I would have that I had the hardest time letting go of. As far as everyone in New York was concerned, I was dead. At least, that's what they would think in a few days.
If Rich asked, if he looked and tried to find me, he would find out that Indie Holloway had been killed in a horrible car accident. Ames had even manufactured evidence, something that had only cost me a few snips of hair, blood and a bit of cash.
We had no choice. If I reached out to anyone from my old life, I would risk being found by my brother and thus having violated the contract between me and Will, we would have to give up 75% of our family wealth to that bastard, Will.
There's always an escape clause. My brother never expected I'd choose death.
My brother had never guessed that I would go to such extremes to avoid this arranged marriage, but he had been wrong about me. My allegiance to my brother had died the moment he pulled away from that old country colonial in his Mercedes with a smile on his face. I realized how much I had kept doing what was best for the family and ignoring what was best for myself.
I'd lost Richard for them, and Jamal attempted to sell me off like a shank of lamb meat.
I could start over in the City of Angels, living my new life as Patsy Gregory. I had appointments with doctors and plastic surgeons who could help me to alter my appearance enough so that I would not be as easily recognizable as Indie Holloway the heiress who was supposed to be dead. I'd have to stay out of the public forever, but I could at least work once the surgeries were done.
Until surgery, all I had to do was lay low. Ames might not have been able to secure me billions of dollars like I would have been assured by my family, but he gave me enough to settle down on. He considered the generous gift to be a token of good faith, a promise that if this all died down there could truly be peace between our two families again.
If I'd had my way, there would have been. The deeper I fell for Rich, the more I realized we were more different than alike.
I didn't hold onto such hopes that the feud would die down soon, but I appreciated Ames' sentiment. This new city represented escape, escape from my duty, escape from my brother, and an escape from the powerful grip the Holloway family feud had always had on my life. For once, I was making a decision based off of what was good for me. That
feeling was hard to beat.
Ames had replicated similar credentials for me to my real ones, fudging realistic degrees and records so bulletproof that he promised even trained police officers would have trouble proving that I wasn't really Patsy Gregory, the Middlesex school graduate who had then attended Stanford and then UCLA.
Neither my mother nor my brother knew where I had gone. I expected I would see the news of my death on the television when Ames' work was complete. For now, my only job was to get settled and live out my new life as Patsy.
It was easy lying to the people in my building. The apartments were luxurious, and this meant that the residents were none too interested in my business. They were far too busy with their own lives to notice the single black woman who had moved in.
Even my contact with Ames dropped to a minimum the moment I boarded my flight. I would receive no more updates, no more communication. All I had was my trust in him and my trust that he would not screw me over or betray my location to anyone. My brother had made it clear he would go to great lengths to satisfy his ambitions, stepping on anyone who got in his way including me.
After only a day or two, my curiosity began to surge. What was happening in New York? How is everyone coping without me? Had my brother gone to new lengths figure out where I hid?
Despite my desperation to find out more, the television and the Internet would provide me with the no answers. There wasn't even the slightest clue as to what everyone back home thought happened to me. I prayed Ames wasn't harmed before he could complete his work.
The hardest part, even harder than letting go of Rich, had been letting go of my mother. The last time I had spoken to her, I could sense she was suspicious but she did nothing to stop me from leaving without telling her the truth about where I would be going. While she had talked tough, Jamal had proved through his actions that any of mama's threats would be rendered useless.
Part of me realized that she had grown to fear him in the weeks since my father's passing. He had grown colder, more stern, and more justified in exacting his cruel ideas without a second thought for others' opinions.
He hadn't always been so authoritarian.
At the time, I had believed that I could plead with my mother to stop Jamal from marrying me off like I was chattel. Her response indicated her powerlessness and that was what had ultimately pushed me over the edge, and given me the strength to run away to the west coast.
My heart burned with the desire to tell her the truth, but I couldn't.
Reaching out to Richard would have been even more dangerous. All I could do in California was wait, wait, wait.
To keep myself company, I decided to go down to the local animal shelter and adopt a pet. In our childhood, we had always had dogs. Our dogs were bred for fighting. Each one was a thick, muscled Rottweiler that my mother had been terrified to let me near. I had always wanted a dog of my own, one that was far from purebred with a free spirit and a loud yapping bark.
At the shelter, I disguised myself with a cheap wig I bought from a costume store, large black sunglasses, and a thrifted sundress. There was no chance of recognition, but I was still paranoid. Essentially, I wore clothing that Indie Holloway would never get caught dead in.
The dogs all bounced to attention the moment I entered the room and a symphony of loud excitable barking greeted me. The attendant, a short black-haired Latina woman with a thick accent introduced me to a few of them by name. None of the first dogs interested me.
These were the puppies, the cute ones with no health problems. Those weren't the ones I was interested in.
Towards the back of the shelter was an old St. Bernard mix, with a short snout and long fur that needed to be brushed.
"What's his name?" I asked.
The attendant replied, "Oh Athena? She's been here for months. She has only three legs. People aren't really into that."
I took a second glance and noticed that indeed the dog did have three legs. As I peered into her enclosure, she bounded towards me, limping towards me with an almost gleeful look on her face and her tongue hanging out.
"Can I pet her?"
"Sure, go ahead."
I smiled and reached into the cage to pet Athena. I knew that she was the animal that I wanted. She seemed lonely back here and so was I. I had no one in California and neither did she. With her three legs, who else would adopt her? I had to take her home.
The attendant drew up the papers and after proving that I had suitable funds to care for the dog I took her away on a leash.
That night, Athena took to me immediately. She curled up at the foot of my bed, her warm body pressed against mine and her chest heaving up and down. No one in my family would have ever dared let dogs sleep in their bedroom, much less in their bed. I took pleasure in doing something that they would have rebuked.
Plus, the warmth of the dog's body allowed me to feel a little bit less alone at least for one night. I at least deserved that. I had said goodbye to Rich, the only man I had ever met who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I had said goodbye to my family, the people I had shown loyalty to when I could have had a chance with Richard. With Athena, I didn't have to fear loneliness. She wouldn't force me to make difficult choices. She wouldn't abandon me. She wouldn't do anything to hurt me.
Jamal’s Chapter
JAMAL HOLLOWAY
When Donnie told me that he suspected Indie was sleeping with a Carmichael, I replied by informing him that I was going to kill her.
Considering the lengths I had gone to in order to get Donnie off a murder charge, he said nothing. He shoved his hands into his pocket and pursed his lips in disapproval as he nodded, his expression betraying his gesture.
His suspicions were enough for me to realize he had stumbled onto something real. That explained her reticence to marry Will. I mean, Will is a little rough around the edges but at the end of the day, he's a great guy.
If Indie had any sense about her, she would have taken me up on my offer without a hint of complaint. She's ungrateful. That's all it boils down to.
I mean, if I were in her shoes I would've done something completely different. I would have done the right thing. She has no soul I think sometimes. She's not willing to sacrifice for the company the way I am.
I coerced Donnie into telling me what he could. We pieced two and two together and realized that the night that Selena had been shot, she must have been with one of the Carmichael brothers.
I decided which one to go after first by a coin toss. If one of them knew where she had been, then they would know where she was now. My dear sister had been gone for over 24 hours and I didn't think she was missing. She had escaped. A deep instinct inside me told me that she had betrayed me.
The men I had tailing her had lost track of her like imbeciles and it was all I could do to avoid beating those stupid bastards to a pulp myself.
I flipped the quarter which landed on tails. Ah, Ames That had to be it. I mean, Ames' brother Richard is far too stupid for my sister to be attracted to. Not to mention, Richard was halfway across the world by my own request. If anyone had helped her leave New York without my detection, it had to be that giant lug who pretended to be far more idiotic than he really was.
It had to be Ames...
Dressed in my new customized wool Prada suit -- a gift to myself in anticipation of a successful acquisition -- I drove myself over to his apartment. Teasing out his address wasn't difficult. I drove myself rather than relying on my driver to avoid detection.
I knew I would have to do a lot of cleanup on the way out just in case the situation became messy. I had some men on standby prepared to help me finish the job if it did. I wasn't as clumsy as my cousin.
That incident in the park had been purely careless. Donnie had behaved like an animal rather than a man making a logical decision for his family. Mind you, I had no regrets about what happened to the Carter girl. I simply wish the entire affair had been cleaner.
That's what I really appreciate
, no muss no fuss.
I had planted the doorman for the night and CCTV had been turned off. I had no trouble getting into Ames apartment building. I entered the elevator and pushed the number for his floor.
My new toy burned a hole through my pocket. Not fear, but excitement flowed through my veins. I had yet to use my latest addition to my arsenal, but I was beyond prepared to make Ames Carmichael target practice.
His building had an electronic lock. These locks were supposed to provide a measure of increased security without the use of the key. They also provided me with a brilliant opportunity to hack the key. In typical Carmichael fashion, Ames was clumsy.
His key had been simple to figure out. It was a simple code related to the three letters in his college fraternity. A child could have figured it out. I punched in the code and thrust the door open to find a dark apartment. Despite the darkness, I was under no pretense that the apartment was empty.
In fact, I had been watching Ames for long enough that I knew he was home from work and likely in the shower. Men of routine make it devastatingly simple to track them. I didn't even have to do the work myself. You'll be surprised with the have-nots do for a little bit of cash on hand.
Sure enough, after a few steps in, I heard the hot water rushing against his shower tiles. I even heard his low baritone voice as he sang to himself. He sang Etta James-- "At Last".
I chuckled. Isn't it funny how white boys always seem to love our music?
I pulled the gun out of my pocket. The weapon was already loaded, but I had the safety flicked on. I flicked it off. The water gushed so loud that Ames couldn't hear my approach. I padded down the hallway slowly unafraid of creaky floorboards. If they sounded, so what?
Alpha Bait_BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel Page 12