Chapter 2: The Bill

Beatrice POV

The world was loud with engine noise and smelled like leather. I was pushed into a seat, which felt weird after the sharp panic I was feeling. My hands were tied in front of me. A black blindfold covered my eyes making every turn of the car feel like a big drop.

I tried to scream. The gag in my mouth made my voice sound muffled and weak. I kicked my legs, my heels hitting the fancy floor mats until a cold heavy hand grabbed my knee.

"Easy, Beatrice. You'll ruin the seats and this car costs more than your life's worth right now " a voice said.

That voice was Peters. It sounded the same. Smooth and arrogant. It used to make me feel special. Now it made me feel like an animal.

The car started moving. I felt the smooth hum of the engine through my body. A moment later the blindfold was ripped off. The sudden light was. I blinked fast trying to see through the glare of the morning sun on the tinted windows. We were in an SUV speeding away from the only home I had known for a year.

Peter sat across from me, his legs crossed comfortably. He looked at me not with hate. With a scary kind of boredom. He reached out. Untied the gag.

As soon as my mouth was free I gasped for air and my voice came out cracked. "Peter, stop this! Tell them to turn around! What are you doing? Why did Caspian sign those papers?"

Peter leaned back with a dark smile on his lips. He looked out the window at the passing trees back at me. "The papers? Those were the documents to transfer ownership. You should be used to that by now being married to a man like my brother."

"I am not a piece of property! I am his wife!" I screamed, my voice echoing in the car.

"Were " Peter corrected softly. "You were his wife. Now you're a debt that's been paid off. You see Caspian has been playing a risky game with the family inheritance for twenty years. He thought I was dead so he spent my share. He built that house with my money. He bought that ring on your finger with money that belonged to me. When I showed up on his doorstep this morning he had two choices: go to prison for fraud and lose everything or give me the one thing he had that I actually wanted."

My heart stopped. The air in the car felt like it had been sucked out. "No. He wouldn't. He loves me."

Peter laughed then a hollow sound. "Caspian loves stability. He loves his reputation. He doesn't love anything that can be traded away to save his skin."

He reached into his jacket. Pulled out a fancy smartphone. He tapped the screen a few times. Hit the speakerphone icon. The ringing tone felt like a countdown.

"Let's ask him shall we?"

The call connected to the ring. The silence at the end was heavy but I could hear the familiar ticking of the grandfather clock in our hallway.

"Caspian?" Peter said, his eyes locked on mine. "Beatrice has some questions about our arrangement. She seems to be under the impression that there’s been a kidnapping. Care to clarify?"

"Caspian!" I lunged toward the phone. The man sitting next to Peter shoved me back into the seat. "Caspian tells them to stop! Tell them you didn't do this! Please!"

There was a pause. I held my breath waiting for the man who had kissed me an hour ago to tell me it was all a trick, that he was calling the police and that he was coming for me.

Finally, Caspian’s voice came through the speaker. It was cold. It was the voice he used for business meetings and firing staff.

"Beatrice," he said. The way he said my name. Without the warmth. Broke something inside me. "Don't make this difficult. Peter is my brother. He has rights that I was.was .. I ignored it for a long time. I can explain everything later. For now, you need to go with him."

"Explain later?" I sobbed. "Caspian, they blindfolded me! They dragged me out of our home! How can you let this happen?"

"It’s for the best, " Caspian said, his voice tightening. "It’s a settlement. We will settle everything once you get to the hotel. Peter will take care of you until the transition is complete. Just... Do as he says. I have to go."

Click.

The line went dead. I stared at the phone in Peter’s hand as if it were a snake. The betrayal was so sharp I could almost feel it.

Peter tucked the phone away, his expression happy. "There. You heard the man. The deal is. The 'husband' is officially out of the picture."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice a whisper. The fire had gone out of me, replaced by a cold paralyzing fear.

"To a hotel downtown ", Peter said, checking his watch. "A private suite where we won't be disturbed. As Caspian said, we have things to 'settle.' I’ve waited two decades to get back what he stole from me. He kept my money, he kept my life.... He kept you.. The thing about Beatrice's debts is that interest always builds up."

He leaned forward his face inches from mine. I could smell his cologne. The same brand Caspian wore. The realisation made me want to gag.

"You were the thing he had left that actually hurt to lose " Peter whispered. ". That makes you the most valuable thing I own."

I looked out the window watching the city skyline grow taller as we approached the city centre. I wasn't a woman anymore. I wasn't a writer, a wife or a person with a future. I was a thing used to paying off a debt.

As the SUV pulled into the valet of the Grand Imperial Hotel, the men in the front seats stepped out to open my door. Peter stood up, smoothing his suit.

"Welcome to the rest of your life Beatrice " he said, offering a hand I refused to take. "Try to look happy. People might talk if they see the new Mrs Moretti crying on her wedding day.”

"We aren't married " I spat.

Peter leaned down, his eyes gleaming with a light. "By the time we leave this hotel, the world won't know the difference. Move."

The guards grabbed my arms and hoisted me out of the car. I looked up at the towering glass of the hotel feeling like I was walking into a tomb. Caspian was gone. My life was a lie.. Peter was just getting started.

Chapter 3: The Cage

Beatrice POV

The lobby of the Grand Imperial was a mess of gold, shiny marble and quiet judgment. I walked through it like a ghost, my robe tight around me, my hair a mess from the struggle in the car. I felt the staff staring at me.

They pitied me, they were curious.. I kept my head down. I was too tired to care about the scandal of a woman in her nightwear being escorted by three men in suits. The rush that had kept my heart racing for the hour had finally faded, leaving behind a deep tiredness that made every step feel like I was walking through wet sand.

By the time the elevator reached the penthouse floor, my knees were shaking. The doors opened with a musical sound that felt like a joke. Peter led the way in his stride confidently while the two men behind me made sure I couldn't turn back.

"In here " Peter said, pointing to a wooden door at the end of the hall.

The suite was huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed a view of the city but all I saw was how high I was. How trapped I was. I collapsed onto a velvet armchair, the soft fabric feeling like a trap.

"What is happening, Peter?" I asked, my voice barely loud. I looked at him, my eyes burning with tears. "You've had your fun. You've scared me. You've proven you can hurt Caspian. Now tell me what this is really about. Is it money? Do you want a ransom? My family doesn't have what Caspian has."

Peter walked over to a sideboard with crystal bottles. He didn't answer. He took his time pouring water from a glass bottle into a glass. "You're thinking too small, Beatrice. This isn't a kidnapping for a payoff. This is about fixing things."

"I don't understand your riddles " I snapped, though the spark of anger was quickly smothered by another wave of exhaustion. I rubbed my face feeling the grit of dried tears on my cheeks. "I just want to go."

"You are home, " Peter said, turning around. He held the glass of water out to me. ". At least you're in the only home you'll have for a while. You look pale Beatrice. Your hands are shaking. Drink this. You need to hydrate before we can talk. I’m not a monster; I don't want you fainting before we get to the details."

I looked at the water. My throat was dry, feeling like it had been scraped with sandpaper. I hesitated, looking from the glass up to Peter’s face. He looked sincere.. As sincere as a man who just bought his brother’s wife could look.

"Drink " he urged softly. "We have an afternoon ahead of us. We need to go over the non-disclosure agreements and your new living arrangements. You can't do that on an empty stomach and a dry throat."

I took the glass. The cold condensation felt good against my palms. I took a sip, then another, eventually draining half the glass. It tasted clean, perhaps a bit metallic.

"There " Peter said, taking the glass back and setting it on the table. "Now sit back. Relax. The world isn't going to end in five minutes."

I leaned my head against the back of the chair watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight. I wanted to keep questioning him. I wanted to demand to see the papers Caspian signed. I wanted to know why my husband’s brother had been "dead" for twenty years.

Suddenly the room began to tilt. The sharp edges of the furniture softened, blurring into the shadows. A heavy warm sensation started in my toes. Raced up my legs turning my muscles to lead. I tried to lift my hand to my head. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

"Peter?" I whispered. My tongue felt thick like it was too large for my mouth. "What... What did you..."

"Shhh, " Peter said. His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. He was standing over me now, his silhouette blocking out the sun. "You’ve had a stressful morning, Beatrice. You need to sleep. Everything is easier when you’re asleep."

I tried to stand to shove him but my body refused to obey. My eyelids were stones dragging shut despite my internal screaming. I felt myself slipping sideways falling into the velvet depths of the chair. The last thing I saw was Peter reaching into his pocket pulling out a small silver case.

Then the darkness claimed me.

I didn't feel the needle at first. I was already drifting in a grey limbo where sounds were muffled and touch was distant.. Then a sharp cold sting pierced the skin of my upper arm. It was a kind of cold. A chemical burn that spread through my veins like ice water.

"That should keep her under for at least six hours " Peter’s voice echoed, sounding clinical and detached.

I felt a hand brush a stray hair away from my forehead. A gesture that should have been tender but felt like a brand. I couldn't even flinch. I was a prisoner in my skin locked behind my eyelids drifting further and further away from the sunlit room.

"Is she out?" a second voice asked. It was one of the bodyguards.

"She’s out, " Peter replied. I heard the snap of the silver case closing. "The sedative in the water started the process. The injection will ensure she doesn't wake up while we’re moving the rest of the equipment in. I want the bedroom prepped. No phones, no internet and bolt the balcony door from the outside."

"What about the husband sir? If he changes his mind?"

Peter let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Caspian? He’s currently liquidating assets to cover the first instalment of what he owes me. He won't be coming for her. He’s too busy saving his life to worry about the one he threw away."

I wanted to cry out. I wanted to scream that he was wrong that Caspian would find me that this was all a mistake.. I was falling into a bottomless well and the light at the top was getting smaller and smaller.

"Watch her " Peter commanded, his footsteps receding toward the door. "Don't leave this room. If she twitches, call me. She’s the expensive thing in this hotel and I want her kept in pristine condition until she understands exactly who she belongs to now."

"Yes, sir."

The heavy mahogany door clicked shut. The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the steady rhythmic breathing of the guard standing just a few feet away. I was alone drugged and traded away.

As the chemical sleep finally pulled me under completely my last conscious thought wasn't of Caspian or the betrayal. It was a knock on the door that morning. The quiet sound that had signalled the end of my world.

The "productivity" had begun.

Chapter 4: The Predator’s Slip

Waking up was like being dragged through glass. My head hurt a lot, an ache that throbbed behind my eyes. It was a parting gift from whatever chemical cocktail Peter had forced into my system. I tried to move. My limbs felt heavy, uncoordinated and cold.

I wasn't in the velvet armchair anymore. I was lying on a soft bed that felt like it was swallowing me whole. The room was dim with heavy blackout curtains drawn tight against the afternoon sun. For a moment the silence was so absolute I thought I was still dreaming. Then I smelled cologne and sterile hotel air.

Next, I felt hungry. It wasn't a craving; it was a violent hollow gnawing in my stomach that made me feel faint. My body was screaming for food to process the toxins Peter had pumped into me.

I heard a heavy lock turning. I stiffened, pulling the silk duvet up to my chin. The door. A sliver of artificial hallway light spilt across the carpet. It was the bodyguard with the neck tattoo and flint-like eyes. He was carrying a tray with a yummy-smelling steak and garlic potatoes.

He set the tray down on the nightstand with a clatter. "The boss said you'd be hungry. Eat."

I didn't argue. I couldn't afford to. I sat up, my head spinning and reached for the fork. I ate with a desperation that felt primal barely tasting the food as I forced it down.. While my mouth was busy my mind was finally starting to clear. I needed a way out. I needed Juno.

Juno is my anchor. My best friend is a woman who doesn't take no for an answer and knows how to navigate the darker corners of the city. If I can just get a message to her the police will be at this hotel within the hour.. I'm stripped of everything. No phone, no purse, not even a watch.

I looked at the guard. He was standing by the door, his arms crossed, his posture bored but alert. He had a smartphone tucked into a holster on his belt. It was inches away. Miles out of reach.

I needed him to lose his cool. I needed him to step into my space to forget the distance Peter had commanded.

"You know " I said, my voice. Gaining strength. I set the fork down. Leaned back against the headboard watching him through narrowed eyes. "I bet Peter doesn't pay you enough for this. To be a glorified babysitter for a woman who's eventually going to be his brother's problem."

The guard didn't blink. "Eat your food, lady."

"Is that all you can say? Did he buy your tongue along with your soul?" I let out a mocking laugh. "I've seen guys like you in my husband's office. Strung, acting like tough guys but really you're just the help. You're the one who cleans up the mess while the Moretti brothers fight over their toys. Do you like watching another man's wife sleep? Is that the highlight of your career?"

His jaw tightened. A vein in his temple began to throb. I had found a nerve.

"Shut up " he growled.

". What? You'll inject me again? Peter wouldn't like that. He said he wanted me in 'pristine condition.' If you bruise me he'll have your head.. I guess you're used to taking orders from men who are better than you. Men who have money, power and women like me. You're the dog at the gate waiting for a scrap of attention."

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a whisper. "You're pathetic. In this room, bound and drugged I have more value than you ever will. You're a nobody. A shadow. A failure in a suit."

The guard snapped. He lunged forward, his face turning a mottled red. He crossed the distance in two strides looming over the bed, his hand raised as if he wanted to strike me.

"You think you're special?" he spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You're just a trade-in! Your husband didn't want you! Your ex-boyfriend bought you! You're nothing but a slave.

In his rage, he leaned too far over the bed. He didn't notice my hand dipping toward his belt. With a precision born of desperation, my fingers hooked around the cold glass of his phone and slid it out of the holster. I tucked it instantly under the duvet, my heart hammering hard. I thought it would burst.

"Get out " I whispered, faking a sob. "Just get out of my sight."

He stood there for a second breathing heavily, his chest heaving. He seemed to realise he had overstepped. He straightened his jacket, his eyes still burning with hate but he didn't check his belt. He was too consumed by his ego to realise he'd been played.

"Stay there " he barked, turning on his heel. He stomped back to the door slamming it shut and clicking the lock.

I didn't waste a heartbeat. I scrambled off the bed. Bolted for the bathroom locking the door behind me. My hands were shaking so violently that I almost dropped the device. I sat on the edge of the marble tub, the screen illuminating my face.

It was unlocked. He hadn't even set a passcode.

I dialled Juno's number from memory and the digits burned into my brain. Pick up. Please Juno pick up.

"Hello?" Her voice was impatient. Classic Juno.

"Juno! It's Beatrice! Don't hang up, listen to me!" I kept my voice as low as possible, pressing my lips against the microphone.

"Bea? Where are you? I've been calling you all morning! Caspian told me you were away on a retreat.

"Caspian lied! Juno listened to me carefully. I've been taken. I'm at the Grand Imperial Hotel, Penthouse Suite 1. Peter... Caspians brother... He's holding me here. He drugged me. He's planning something. Caspian let him do it."

There was an intake of breath on the other end. Juno didn't waste time with "how" or "why." She was already moving; I could hear the jingle of her car keys.

"The Grand Imperial? Suite 1? Bea are you safe now?"

"I'm in the bathroom but I don't have much time. The guard is outside. Juno, please call the police. Tell them it's a kidnapping. Tell them I'm being held against my will. Please hurry."

"I'm calling them now. I'm driving straight there. Stay locked in that bathroom Bea. Do you hear me? Do not come out until you hear sirens."

"I will. Just hurry, Juno. Please."

I ended the call with my breath coming in gasps. I looked at the phone at the bathroom door. I knew the guard would realise his phone was missing any second. I had to hide it. I shoved the device into the bottom of the laundry hamper burying it under a pile of plush towels.

I stood up, smoothing my robe trying to steady my breathing. I walked back to the door. Sat on the floor leaning my back against the wood.

The silence of the suite felt different now. It wasn't a tomb anymore; it was a fortress. Out there the world was coming for me. The police are coming. Juno is coming.

But as I heard the guards' muffled voices outside the door start to rise in confusion. Likely realizing his holster was empty. I realised the hardest part was just beginning. I had to survive until the sirens arrived.

I closed my eyes. Prayed that for once, in his life Peter Moretti had underestimated the woman he thought he owned.