ENTRAPMENT
Book 4 of the INFIDELITY series
Copyright @ 2016 Romig Works, LLC
Published by Romig Works, LLC
2016 Edition
ISBN e-book: 978-0-9968394-0-2
Cover art: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design (http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk)
Editing: Lisa Aurello
Formatting: Angela McLaurin at Fictional Formats
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without the written permission from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is available in print from most online retailers
2016 Edition License
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PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
FIDELITY
WHAT TO DO NOW…
STAY CONNECTED WITH ALEATHA
BOOKS BY AUTHOR ALEATHA ROMIG
ALEATHA ROMIG
The Infidelity series contains adult content and is intended for mature audiences. While the use of overly descriptive language is infrequent, the subject matter is targeted at readers over the age of eighteen.
Infidelity is a five-book romantic suspense series. Each individual book will end in a way that will hopefully make you want more until we reach the end of the epic journey.
The Infidelity series does not advocate or glorify cheating. This series is about the inner struggle of compromising your beliefs for your heart. It is about cheating on yourself, not someone else.
I hope you enjoy the epic tale of INFIDELITY!
“The snare is set—leaving friendships, lives, and futures dangling in the balance”
ENTRAPMENT continues the epic new romantic suspense series INFIDELITY, featuring Lennox “Nox” Demetri, Alexandria “Charli” Collins, the Montagues, and the Demetris.
The thrills, heat, and suspense continue to add up…
One chance meeting
plus…
One sexy, possessive alpha and one spunky, determined heroine
plus…
One week of uncontainable, unbridled passion
plus…
One impulsive decision
times…
Two declarations of love
divided by…
The sum of intertwining pasts, lies, and broken rules
equals…
ENTRAPMENT
“Infidelity - it isn’t what you think”
Don’t miss this latest novel in the Infidelity series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Aleatha Romig. The classic twists, turns, deceptions, and devotions will have readers on the edge of their seats, discovering answers that continue to pose questions. Be ready to swoon one minute and scream the next.
Have you been Aleatha’d?
ENTRAPMENT is the fourth of five full-length novels in the INFIDELITY series: Betrayal, Cunning, Deception, Entrapment, and Fidelity.
*This series does not advocate nor does it condone cheating.
SIGNATURE CRIMSON FLOWED upward from the starched white collar of his shirt as Alton Fitzgerald stopped midstep and turned my direction. “It appears as though the prodigal daughter has returned.”
I didn’t stop walking until I was right before him. “I want to see her.”
“You’ll have to understand that I have no intentions of slaying a fatted calf on this occasion simply because you’ve decided to grace us with your presence.”
“What happened?” I asked.
He looked over my shoulder toward the SUV as a limousine pulled past it and up to the edge of the walkway.
I turned back to see both Clayton and Deloris standing beside the SUV, looking as though they were both ready to run in my direction.
“Come home and we’ll discuss this. Alone,” he emphasized the last word.
“Discuss it now. I don’t want to go back to the manor. I want to see my mother.”
Alton’s tone lowered. “You see, Alexandria, that’s the problem. For too long you’ve been coddled. Your days of getting what you want are over. It’s time you acquiesced to your future, the same way Laide did.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t. You’ve been too wrapped up in your own frivolities to worry about what’s important. Perhaps if you hadn’t been off in New York, you would have been able to help your mother. Now her fate is in my hands.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I cringed as he reached toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. My stomach turned as he inclined his face closer to mine and his warm, putrid breath filled my nose.
“Turn around, Alexandria.”
I did, not because I wanted to obey him, but because I needed to breathe fresh air. Brantley was standing near the open door to the limousine.
Alton spoke near my ear, his hand still holding my shoulder. “If you want to see your mother, or if she has a chance of ever being released from this facility, you will get in that car and do as you’re told.”
I looked back toward Deloris and Clayton.
“Alexandria, I won’t ask again.”
My eyes closed, blocking out the afternoon sun as I clenched my teeth and shook his hand away. With a deep breath, I took one step and then another. As I walked the plank to my own death, I said goodbye to Charli.
Alexandria nodded to Brantley and climbed into the backseat of the limousine.
Before the door was shut, encasing us in the cool, dim interior, my phone vibrated with an incoming call.
“Give me your purse,” Alton said with his hand extended.
I lifted my sunglasses to the top of my head and stared. “What? No.”
Tears prickled my eyes and I turned quickly as my face stung from the slap of his palm against my cheek.
What the hell?
I sent daggers flying from my eyes as I blinked awa
y the moisture.
“Your mother is no longer a factor. Listen to me the first time and I won’t need to be sure of your attention.” Alton extended his hand again. “I don’t repeat myself.”
When I didn’t move, he reached for my purse, his glare daring me to stop him.
Stupid! Why did I get into this car?
With the scenery moving beyond the tinted windows and the limousine in motion, I sat statuesque, trying to contemplate my next move.
Alton removed my phone and gave me back my purse.
I held my tongue, as I’d been taught to do, as he turned off its power and placed it in his pocket. Though my thoughts were filled with too many things to register, Chelsea’s text message came to mind. I hadn’t erased it. If Alton turned on the phone, he’d see it.
“Alton,” I tried for my most respectful tone. “Please tell me about my mother.”
He leaned back against the seat, seemingly composing his response. “Your time in New York is done. Your mother wanted a Christmas wedding. I think if Suzy gets started on the plans, it can still be accomplished. The only variable will be if Adelaide is well enough to attend.” Alton sighed, cocked his head to the side. With a straight-lipped grin, he added, “I suppose that’s up to you.
“Welcome home, Alexandria.”
I TRIED TO process Alton’s words…
Christmas wedding.
Suzy.
His question…
Will Adelaide be well enough to attend?
And finally, his declaration…
Welcome home.
The words formed phrases in my native language. I understood each one individually, but not combined. Their meaning—in the order spoken—was beyond my comprehension. With the sting of his slap still tingling on my cheek, I pressed my lips together and waited for more, for him to explain what he’d said, what he’d decreed.
I’d played this game too many times—I knew the rules and the outcomes. My few winning moments had come in my mother’s presence. She wasn’t here. I was alone with Alton in the moving limousine. Not completely alone, because Brantley was behind the clouded glass, though no matter the reason, he’d never intervene.
I swallowed my thoughts and retorts. They’d only earn me another slap. Even in times of confusion, the old me—the one who understood her predicament—knew that if I were to survive, self-preservation and common sense needed to overrule impulse.
Now that I’d willingly entered Alton’s trap, survival was my new goal.
The wheels of the limousine turned and time passed, but Alton didn’t offer anything more. No explanation. No enlightenment.
With each ticking second, the silence loomed around us, settling like a cloud. The muted hum of tires against the pavement drowned out our breathing. There were no words or piped-in music; even Brantley remained silent, his silhouette beyond the clouded window barely moving. It was as if most of the world had stopped, leaving me a captive unable to affect the future.
Mile after mile, the car continued forward, undoubtedly taking us to Montague Manor, away from life and—almost literally—toward death. Charli couldn’t live behind the iron gates and tall stone walls. She wouldn’t survive.
Summoning Alexandria, I turned toward my mother’s husband. His lips thinned as his attention moved from the side window to the screen of his phone. Though I stared, not once did his beady eyes turn my way or his words offer an explanation. By the smug satisfaction in his expression, he appeared confident that he had my acceptance or at the very least, my compliance. My neck straightened as I realized that in my stepfather’s mind, I’d already acquiesced to my future as my mother had done.
What the hell did that even mean?
Taking a deep breath, I lifted my chin. “Will you explain yourself?”
His gaze turned my direction as his smile faded. “My mistake. I assumed a Stanford graduate would understand a simple statement. But by all means, Alexandria, I can dumb it down for you. After all, I’ve been doing that for your mother for the last twenty years.”
Copper coated my tongue as I applied the pressure necessary to bite back my retort.
“As I stated,” he offered in a most condescending tone, “we will discuss this at length once we’re home.”
Stifling my disgust, I called on my childhood training and did my best to equal his patronizing pitch. “Perhaps I need to make this simple for you also. You see, I have a home, in New York. I have classes and a boyfriend. Despite what you assume, I can’t acquiesce to anything that will interfere with any of that.”
Instead of being offended, Alton smirked. “It’s you who doesn’t seem to understand. Alexandria, you don’t have a choice.”
This can’t be real.
I continued to stare, waiting for the telltale crimson to rise from his collar. In some strange way, its absence frightened me more than its predictable presence. The anger, his normal barometer, was gone. In its place was an arrogant confidence that sent a chill down my spine.
“Do you have anything to say?” Alton Fitzgerald asked.
To an outsider, his question could be construed as an offer of enlightenment. That wasn’t what my stepfather was doing. His inquiry served no other purpose than to bait me into saying something—anything—to warrant another of his slaps.
Taking a deep breath, I tried for another angle. “Please, tell me about my mother.”
“In due time.”
Suddenly, I startled. A shrill ring filled the interior of the limousine. As Alton reached for his phone, he nodded my direction, pressed his pale lips together, and wordlessly silenced me.
“Hello, Suzy.”
Suzanna Spencer was Bryce’s mother and my mother’s best friend. Would Suzanna tell me what was happening? Surely she was worried about my mother. That had to be why she was calling Alton.
With a conscious effort to appear as though I wasn’t listening, I turned toward the window. The muscles of my neck tightened as the scenery beyond the glass became increasingly familiar. No longer near Savannah’s city proper, the roads were now more rural. Canopies of trees created dimmed tunnels as Brantley swiftly drove us in and out of sunlight.
Mulling over each of Alton’s responses, I searched for a morsel of information. With each statement, I came up empty. Each sentence, each response, was calculated and well thought out.
As the strobe of light continued to illuminate, I contemplated what I’d been told thus far. Both my mother and Jane had mentioned that things in Savannah were changing; however, with each mile we moved nearer to Montague Manor, I knew that wasn’t true.
Settlers created these paths hundreds of years ago. Horses and wagon wheels had carved the Georgia clay, their tracks making what would later become today’s paved and pristine roads. Though the settlers wouldn’t recognize the current hardened black surfaces, the trees lining the route were still the same.
It was another example of the Savannah way: change without actual change.
Alton continued his conversation with his back toward the car’s back window, leaving me seated to his left. My seat faced the side, directly across from the door that had led to my current imprisonment. My gaze wandered from window to window.
My lips came together as I suppressed a gasp and my pulse quickened. I shouldn’t have been surprised by what I saw in my peripheral vision, but I was. My childhood had a way of doing that—isolating me—but from where I sat I could see from the corner of my eye that I wasn’t alone. A few car lengths behind the limousine was Clayton’s black SUV.
What did Deloris think she could do, run the gate at Montague Manor?
That would never happen. Alton’s employees were too well trained. They’d never let Deloris and Clayton pass.
I clutched my purse, wishing for my phone. If only I could send a text… let Deloris know not to try. Her efforts would be futile, possibly instigating other problems.
Why hadn’t I shared more with her about the operations of Montague Manor?
Then aga
in, there was a part of me that wanted her to try, wanting her and Clayton to storm the gate. I imagined the guards calling the police. When they arrived, I’d tell them the truth—that I’d been taken against my will and my mother was in danger. In the story forming in my head, the good people would win and the bad ones would lose.
That was how fantasies worked.
This wasn’t a fantasy or a fairytale.
This was Montague—I knew too well that the bad would win. They always did.
Alton’s conversation went on as I continued to try to glean any news of my mother. Other than a comment or two saying he’d tell Suzy about that situation later, nothing about my mother was mentioned. He mentioned Bryce’s name but not Chelsea’s.
Momentarily I closed my eyes and tried to decipher the puzzle being laid before me. Pieces were being moved, but I couldn’t make out their destination.
For only a second before Alton powered off my phone, I’d seen the screen. It was Deloris’s name. She’d been the one who’d called, undoubtedly wanting answers, wondering what I’d done by getting into this car and why I’d done it. I wanted to believe she was talking to Nox, messaging him, or somehow relating what had happened.
Why did I get in this car?
The question ate at my insides until a hole remained.
It was a familiar void, one I’d carried for most of my life, one that up until recently, allowed me to cope and survive. It took away my emotions. I worked to fill my lungs, to fill the emptiness with air. I would survive. I’ve done it before.
But this time was different. This time I had help. Though Alton may believe I was alone, I wasn’t.
Nox was with me.
I reached for my necklace and ran the platinum cage up and down the chain. He may not be with me physically, but he was there. I was with him—a small dot on his phone, but there nonetheless.
Nox knew many of my secrets, my shadows, and he still loved me. I loved him. That was something that I’d never before had. It was something my mother never had. The knowledge that I did—I do—gave me strength.
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