Bile rises in my throat and I despair clogs my lungs.
I walked straight into a trap.
My heart gives a hard knock when I realize I have no idea how long I’ve been here. Is it even the same day?
“Hello?” I call out, and the small effort hurts. My throat is dry and my lips are sore. I swipe of my tongue over them makes me wince when I touch several cuts and taste blood.
I go stock still when I heard the door open.
“She’s awake,” a familiar voice, one I hoped to never hear again in person, says. I have to swallow my whimper as his heavy footsteps get closer. The smell of his bergamot and sandalwood cologne confirms that this isn’t a nightmare.
My hood is ripped off, and the artificial light stings my eyes and blinds me momentarily. I blink a few times to clear my vision and then, find myself looking up at my father.
Behind him, lurking in the shadows just outside the bedroom door, stand, Duke, Fiona and my grandmother.
I’m in danger. I’m terrified because my hands are bound and I have no idea how I’m going to get out of here. My heart is beating out of chest. But as they come into focus, I find a laugh bubbling in my throat.
They look ridiculous - flanking my father like league of geriatric, obese, clinically stupid, supervillains
My laughter escapes. “Do you think this is a joke?” My father’s face darkens.
“You look like a syndicate of wannabe villains straight out of a B horror movie,” I chortle, and tears stream down my eyes.
“She’s hysterical,” my grandmother declares as she strides toward me. Her hand comes down hard across my cheek, so hard that it knocks me over. My shoulder wrenches painfully when I fall and the metallic tang of blood fills my mouth.
It turns out a slap is actually a cure for hysteria because my panic is gone and it’s replaced by outrage.
I struggle back to sitting and glare at them, until I realize who’s missing.
“Where’s Cameron?” I demand.
“She’s upstairs, asleep,” Fiona holds up a small monitor and I see a Cameron in her little toddler bed, fast asleep.
Seeing her safe settles the flare of panic.
“Clearly you all have a plan. So why don’t you go ahead and tell me why I’m here so we can all get on with our lives?” I ask trying to sound bored. I’m not, but I’m not scared either. Carter knows where I am and unless one of them plans to put a bullet into my heart, I know I’m going to walk out of here today with everything I love still intact. I don’t know how, but I know.
“You haven’t said anything about your friend over there. Or are you mad because she stabbed you in the back? Gotta admit, her offer of help was unexpected, and very helpful,” Duke says and I’m confused again for a second until I follow his gaze and turn around.
Her head is bowed and I can’t see her face, but I know that the woman slumped over and bound to a chair, is Dina.
“What are you doing? Why is she here?” I demand, unable to hide my terror. I can’t even tell if she’s breathing.
“She tried to double cross us. So, she’s going to be our fall guy,” Duke responds.
“Are you crazy? Do you think you’re going to get away with this? Phil and Carter know where I am,” I warn them.
“Too bad tomorrow morning will be too late for them to help you.” Fiona sneers and I wish I could stick habanero peppers in her eyes and rub them in.
“What do you want with me?” I ask.
“Like we said. You’re going to marry Duke, sign a handy little document that says you’re giving your fortune to him. And then, if you want to live, and you want Cameron to live, you’ll leave and never speak a word about it.”
I recoil at Fiona’s casual recitation of demands and the way she talks about her own child’s life as if it’s already forfeit.
“What are you talking about? Cameron is your daughter,” I shout at her.
“Just do what we ask, and you’ll be fine,” my father says.
“What? Marry Duke? I’d rather die,” I spit my disgust and Duke laughs.
“Don’t worry Beth, all I want is the money. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.”
I look at my father and grandmother, both of them now sitting on the loveseat under the window, watching like the morally bankrupt emperor and empress watching their enemies destroy each other.
“You’re fine with your wife having an affair?” I ask him.
He glances at her with complete disinterest and then shrugs.
“She’s proved more useful as a collaborator than a wife. He’s welcome to her and their share of the money that will become his when he marries you. I just want to make sure the Wolfe fortune doesn’t fall into your incompetent hands.” His smile is cold, cruel as he watches me expectantly. Maybe he’s hoping, I’ll scream or cry or beg.
I don’t even blink. I’m ahead of him, again. He doesn’t know that we found out the truth about the will. He is misleading Fiona and Duke because they still think marrying me is the way to the fortune.
“So, that’s your plan?” I say with as much disdain and ridicule I can muster
Fiona sneers. “I forget you’re slow. We told you. You’re going to marry Duke, sign over that money to us. And then you can go. Or you can fight us, and your friend over there is going to find her limp fingers on the trigger of the gun in my purse. I’ll help her pull the trigger, set the house on fire before she shoots herself. Then, you’ll be dead. Either way, Duke we’ll have our money.”
I glance at Dina, and hate the way my heart trips at the thought of the scenario she just talked about playing out.
I need to stall for time. I test the bindings at my wrist and almost laugh when my fingers brush up against the smooth cotton of a bedsheet. It’s tied, but it’s not the gripping knot of rope that I’d have no hope of working loose.
“So when I leave here, you think I’ll just never look back?”
“We’ll ruin your boyfriend. He paid us for those pictures, tell him thanks for that, by the way. But we’ve got copies.”
At the reminder of their extortion my anger spikes.
These people are such fucking cowards. For all their privilege, they still have never found anything more important than money they didn’t earn. They’re lazy and full of shit and even if I die today, I won’t ever be afraid of them.
“Get on with it, Fiona. We just need an unimpeachable signature and we’ll be done,” Agnes drones, sounding about as bothered as someone running late for lunch.
It’s time to see what happens when they realize they’re being double crossed.
“So, have you told them the truth about the will?” I look at my father.
He looks startled and then his expression smooths.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, so you haven’t, I see. I guess I don’t blame you.”
I turn go look at them. “ You didn’t bother to even read the terms of the will you’re prepared to kill for. You don’t deserve a single penny anyway. Good plan, Dad.” I give him an approving smile.
I don’t expect Fiona to believe me, at least not right away. But Duke, takes the bait, immediately.
“What does that mean?” he asks, looking pointedly at my father.