Deep down, I know I can’t trust anyone. Never have, never will. Every single person in the world is out for themselves, no matter what bullshit lies they tell you. My past is proof of that. My future, on the other hand, will ensure that those who deemed themselves untrustworthy suffer the most extreme consequences. If they’ve placed themselves in my life, they should know better than to double-cross me because payback will be had. It seems there are more than a few that do not.
I’d like to think I can trust Peter, but you can never tell. The guy’s been with me since the beginning, and he’s never betrayed me, but he’s no spring chicken and he needs the comfort of food and a roof over his head. If he had to take Byron’s side, while assuming I was dead, he’s the one person I’d consider forgiving. My only hope is that Byron has treated him well.
When the pilot announces we’re clear to land, I stick my phone in my pocket, check my gun in the holster around my waist, and mentally prepare for any possible outcome.
I’m coming for you, Bella.
CHAPTER TEN
Nothing matters anymore. Another person who I thought I could trust has turned on me. This time, it’s Trent. The man I spent two years of my life with and considered marrying at one point.
Now he’s forcing me into a wedding gown, so I can marry someone else.
“Put your fucking foot in, Bella.”
I don’t. I just stand there in the laced bodice he managed to get on me. After quite the quarrel on the floor, I lost. My strength is no match for his.
One thing he should know by now is that I do not go down without a fight.
Trent kneels at my feet, trying to get me into a wedding gown, because that’s what Byron told him to do.
“All this for money. You’re despicable, you know that?” I begin unstrapping the ties of the bodice, undoing all the work he just did. It doesn’t matter that I’ll be standing completely naked in front of him.
As I said, nothing matters anymore.
“It’s not about money. Consider it helping an old friend.”
“Old friend?” I laugh. “Because you went to law school together? That hardly makes him your friend. He’s using you, Trent, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.” I scoff. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he kills you when he’s done with you.”
“Byron contacted me once he put two and two together and realized you were my girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend. He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. An act of revenge, per se. Look,” he drops his hands, peering up at me, “I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and I’ve got nothing to show for it. A partnership with Davis & Davis law firm would be a dream come true. It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose here. You made it clear where we stand.”
I could kick him in the face right now. I really could. Just one lift of the leg and he’d be eating my toes. Then I could run. But running has proven to be a waste of time because I have nowhere to fucking go.
“Cal can help you. If you just stop all this and take my side, he will help you.”
Trent stands up, nostrils flared and chest puffed out. “Fuck Callum Ellis.” He leans closer. “And fuck you for fucking him.”
Running might not be an option, but nothing stops me from raising my hand and slapping him across the face. “No, Trent. Fuck you!” The sting on my palm is actually gratifying. That was the best decision I’ve made all day.
Standing here arguing is getting me nowhere so I do what’s asked of me in hopes that I’ll find a way out of this mess.
I reach down and pull up the dress that’s pooled around me. It’s actually a beautiful dress. Off-white—because Byron said whores don’t get to wear white—with an impressive floral, lace overlay. It’s much too poufy on the bottom and nothing like I planned to wear on my wedding day. Not the wedding I dreamt of, anyway.
“Zip it up.” I give Trent my back, and he does as I say without a word.
Not even looking back at him, I walk out the door, barefoot. The dress is the only beautiful thing about me right now. I didn’t even brush my hair again because I have no interest in looking acceptable for my soon-to-be husband.
I also have no plans to actually marry him.
Instead of taking the elevator to the ballroom, where the ceremony is being held, I go straight to the kitchen.
I’m not sure why I didn’t think of this before, but a butcher knife straight to his heart should do the trick.
“Good morning,” I say to the cook. It’s not the same one who was working here during my last stay on the island. In fact, Byron has taken on all new staff. Peter has been replaced with an uptight doorman who smells like green beans and farts and never smiles. The position might have been filled by someone else, but Peter himself is irreplaceable.
“You shouldn’t be in here, ma’am.”
I spot a knife block and walk straight to it. Reaching down, I pull out the biggest one. It illuminates under the dome light hanging from the ceiling, and it’s so big I can see my reflection in it. “And you shouldn’t be working for a criminal who kidnaps women and forces them into marriage.”
His eyes widen, darting from me to the pointed blade. I wink back at him before leaving with the knife in one hand, and my dress balled in the other to stop me from tripping over it. That would be just my luck—fall and stab myself in the gut. That’s one way to end this madness.
No. I prefer to die while trying to live. At least then I know I gave it my damnedest.
I go up to the seventh floor, where the ballroom is, and I’m prepared for what I have to do. Actually, I’m not, but it’s best this way. If I think too much about it, I’ll cower.
The elevator doors slide open and I’m greeted with a very angry Byron, dressed in a black tuxedo with a cream-colored bow tie to match my dress. He shoots daggers at me before dropping his gaze to the knife at my side.
“Clever, Bella. If only you had the guts to use it.”
“You’d be surprised how gutsy I am, Byron.” I hold the knife out and walk forward. Each step has him walking backward. “Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat right now.”
Trent comes walking toward us, spots the knife, and throws his hands up, halting his movements.
Two more men follow behind him—men I’ve never seen before.
“Restrain her,” Byron orders the men.
I look at the guys, waiting for them to do as they’re told, but no one moves.
“Now!” Byron barks the order.
The smaller of the guys, who’s actually shorter than I am, starts my way. I hold out the knife, testing him. “Stay the fuck away from me.” I choke on my words. “I’ll do it.”
“Bella,” Byron says in a high-pitched voice, “think of Mark.”
My attention snaps to him, the knife swinging with me. “I am thinking of Mark. And the rest of the world who I’d be doing a favor by taking you out. I will not marry you, Byron. Not today, not ever. I’ll die first.” I hold out my wrist, resting the knife against it.
Would I do it? Would I really die before marrying this guy? He’d end up killing Mark, probably Cal, too. I know he has him somewhere. I heard the conversation. He wants Cal to watch us get married, then he will probably kill them both.