Davis’s POV: I don’t know how long I was passed out for, but when I woke up, I found myself alone in a big bland room that had no windows. It didn’t take long for everything to click into place. Even though my head was pounding like it was about to explode, I could still put the pieces together. I had been kidnapped. It was a bit embarrassing though. I was supposed to be experienced and intelligent. How could I have let myself be tricked so easily? I remained on the floor where I was and hoped my head would stop hurting so bad. What happened to using chloroform to make me unconscious? Why did my attacker have to go old school and knock me out with a blunt object? It felt personal, like whoever had done it, purposely wanted me to feel pain. I should have never underestimated him. Of course the timelines clicked in place. Why did I let Lisa come with me? He had cleverly used her to get to me. Now I was here, I wondered what he planned to do with me. He had almost taken my life the
Davis’s POV:Do what’s right. I knew what that meant, and I didn’t like it. But she asked me to do it for her. How could I possibly say no to her? There was nothing I couldn’t do for her. I realized that now. The fact both warmed and scared me. Never had anyone had this much power over my choices but I had to admit it did feel strangely good. Here I was, driving down to meet Kayden, but this time with a different intention from what I would have liked to do. I was quite surprised to still see him there, sitting on the same swing bench he had been sitting on several hours ago when I found my wife next to him. This was going to be extremely difficult. I took a deep breath. I had to be really careful not to flip out and ruin the whole plan. “This is for you, baby,” I whispered to myself before leaving the car. Kayden flinched a little when he saw me approach, but when he saw there was nowhere to run, he remained where he was sitting and pretended to look unbothered by my presence
Five years later: Cassie’s POV:I stared into the glittering eyes of my baby girl as she struggled to make them stay open while I read her a bedtime story. She was just as stubborn as her father, fighting sleep even though that was what she needed. “And they lived happily ever after, the end,” I said. By the time I was done with the bedtime story, sleep had won. Although my daughter was asleep, I couldn’t stop watching her I rubbed her head and stared into her face, smiling when I saw the close resemblance she shared with her father. “You’re lucky I married a handsome man,” I whispered, still not ready to leave my baby girl’s side. “I love you,” I said and kissed her on her forehead, before turning to leave the room. “Jeez!” I gasped when I saw Davis standing by the door with his hands in his both pockets, smiling down at me. I turned back immediately to see if I had woken Ivory up, but luckily she was such a deep sleeper. “You scared me,” I whispered. “Come,” he said, stretchi
"Are you guys seriously demanding I marry a man I've never even met before?" I asked my parents in disbelief. This had to be some kind of joke. "Are you seriously trying to sell me off? That was basically what they were doing, asking me to get married into the Monroe family just so they could strike up a partnership and make a ton of money. "Try to understand, Cassie," my mother consoled me in her singsong voice, lightly touching my shoulders. "You can leave him after the partnership is over, you know. If your father loses this opportunity, everything we've ever worked so hard for will all be gone in an instant. Don't think of it as us trying to sell you off. Think of it as a way to repay us for all we've provided for you." I pushed her hands away from me in both surprise and disgust. I knew my mother was shallow, but hearing her say those words out loud just angered me to another degree. "All you've provided for me? Last I remember, you're my parents and I'm your responsibility. I
An ugly clown. Me? Why did I ever think he was good-looking? Truly, beauty was only skin-deep. I frowned as I opened my mouth to tell him off but no words came out. My lips only quivered as more tears came out. He shuddered and turned to the priest as if my sole appearance was threatening his life. How bad did I look? My mother had made sure I had a full coverage make-up before I got here. Did he think I was that ugly, or was he just not prepared to like me? "She can't even speak," he said to the priest in disgust. "Just wrap this up, already." "Why do you have to be so rude?" I asked, getting my voice back. I wished I could have thought of something more clever, like an insult. He gave me a once over, the displeasure on his face increasing. "Your dress, the shoes, the step, ugh," he said, more to himself than to me, like I was some bad artwork he was being forced to purchase. "How am I supposed to show you off to people? They'll laugh." Fortunately, no one else could hear hi
"Go ahead," I prodded. "Speak." The maid fidgeted with her uniform, turning away from me. "Ma'am, I…""You what?" I was getting impatient."She just began working here a few months ago, ma'am," an older maid walked up to me with an automatic smile on her face. She gave the maid sitting down a sour look and she quickly got up, curtsied, and left the table. None of this felt right. I understood some families still had live-in maids, but I didn't like the way they acted like they didn't have free will. First an arranged marriage and now this? Did I get transported to the seventeenth century without knowing? "The young master is a very lovely man, my lady. I promise you will enjoy every bit of your marriage," she began, beaming, but her smile was not authentic. I frowned. That wasn't really what I wanted to hear. I didn't want her humble praise for her 'master'. I just wanted the actual truth. "How does he treat you?" I asked, deciding I had to be more specific if I was ever getti
I tried to leave since he clearly didn't want me in the room but he didn't move. He remained in that position, taunting me, trapping me, asking me to get out even though he made it impossible for me to do so. He was still staring into my face, looking intently like he could see right through me. I didn't like this. I knew he could see the fear in my eyes. He smelt vaguely of vodka, or at least what I thought vodka smelt like. But he didn't look drunk. His eyes were clear and he was neither stuttering nor staggering. He was breathing into my face and with no air left to inhale, I was breathing him in. It seemed like such an intimate position, for someone whose aim was to antagonize me. "I want to leave now," I said, feeling uncomfortable. He didn't move. Instead, I saw the small trace of a smile grace his lips. "You're actually not that bad," he said, his entire demeanor changing. I had no idea what he was talking about. "You have a face that's worth looking at. I was mistaken.
"Can you at least tell me what you're talking about?" I asked, following as he left the room. I couldn't understand this man and neither could I understand why I was following him. I had been so terrified when he had me pinned against the wall and now I was following him now he'd finally set me free. "That's none of your business," he said, waving a hand at me, not even bothering to look back."Really? You just said I'll do. Do for what exactly? I have a right to be concerned, you know. People don't just randomly tell me I'll do without at least giving me some extra info on what exactly I'd do for…"He was too quick for me. Or maybe I was just too busy talking to notice when he moved. I was underneath him, forced to look up into his face which was only about an inch away from mine. Somehow I was floating. He was holding my back. I couldn't move. I was too close. We were too close. I could smell him. My heart was pounding in my chest, a feeling I couldn't particularly describe swell