Prologue- Page 1
Chapter One
Everything was a blur.
The
passing traffic...the palms...even the brief glimpse of the crystal blue water
when the car passed over the bridge.
Everything
was a blur, and had been for some hours now.
For
the woman sitting in the backseat, nothing registered-- not even the million
dollar view that unfolded before her.
The
dimming rays of the sun glinted off the white and red hues of the mansion
perched almost on the edge of the cliff, and a few streaks even reached the
Alexander McQueen dress draped on her fragile frame. As the car made its way
down the narrowing path that led to the wrought-iron gates of the estate, her
eyes remained blank behind the dark glasses that veiled her from the world.
Soon
the car was slowing down, waiting for the electronic gates to register its
presence before swinging open, allowing it to speed down the tree-lined path
that ended in a cobblestone courtyard.
She
said nothing even when the driver jumped down to open the door for her, nor
when she saw the housekeeper standing at the entrance, awaiting her orders.
Her
heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered, then walked towards the
massive central staircase, still saying nothing.
There was nothing
to say, of course.
By
now, the entire world was aware of what had occurred in the packed courthouse
this afternoon, but she was trying very hard not to think of that.
Traversing
the hallway, she finally reached the suite of rooms that she now belonged only
to her. Closing the door behind her, she finally wilted, allowing the weight of
the day's events to finally register.
Her
entire body rebelled against the movement, the muscles refusing to relax.
Throwing
her handbag down on the floor with scant regard for its designer label, she
kicked off her heels and stripped down to her underwear before walking swiftly
towards the en-suite bathroom. For an instant, her gaze went towards the tub,
but then she shook her head.
She
wasn't in the mood for luxuries tonight.
Stepping
into the shower, she turned the settings to cold, and then
stood there while the frigid water drenched her from head to foot.
Hours
passed...or maybe it was just minutes, she didn't really know.
Her
skin felt like ice when she stepped out, and she listlessly reached for a towel
before wrapping herself in a bathrobe and heading back into the bedroom. Lying
down on the king-sized bed with her hair dripping wet, her eyes glazed over as
she stared at the ceiling.
Her
trance was broken with a sound from her discarded handbag. Looking down at it,
she realized that it was her phone, vibrating with all its might, reminding her
that there were still people...and a world outside.
Her
voice was scratchy when she answered.
"Anjali?
What the hell do you want?"
There
was a stunned silence at the other end, but she didn't care.
Today
she cared about nothing.
"I
was just calling to see how you were doing. I've handled the press, but if
there's something you need, I'll be happy to..."
"The
press? Weren't they done at court?"
A
strained laugh came down the line. "Hardly. My phone's been ringing off
the hook; everyone wants an inside scoop. And it's only a matter of time before
they land at your doorstep. Haven't you even watched the news?"
That
stiffened her body, bringing her upright as she swiveled to face the hidden
flat screen.
"I
don't particularly care to see my face splashed across national television. Not
anymore."
"I
know that. And I also know how much you want all this to just go away. But it
isn't going to happen. We have to figure out a strategy, you saw how it was on
the steps leading out of that courthouse..."
She
continued speaking, but the woman in the bathrobe wasn't listening anymore.
Allowing her lashes to veil her hazel eyes, she fell back on the bed as sounds
and images from this afternoon rushed back at her, relentless as the tides that
washed against the rocky beach outside.
"Now
that your divorce is final, should we revert to calling you 'Ms.Gupta'?"
"Is
it true that your husband's family joined him in the fight to deny you your
rights?"
"What
are you planning to do with the massive settlement you've just won?"
"Is
your decision to quit your job final?"
"Are
you satisfied now that you have all but bankrupted him?"
"Are
you ever going to tell the world the name of the woman he was having an affair
with?"
That
last question had almost made her laugh at the time. The closed-door hearings
meant that the reporters outside didn't really know all the
details of what had been revealed inside that courtroom. They were only privy to
the final outcome-- and the rest was all speculation.
But
now as the questions reverberated inside her head, nausea arose in her throat.
And
suddenly, there was only thing she wanted...one thing she needed with
a desperation that wouldn't be ignored.
"Anjali."
The
force of will apparent in that one, softly-spoken word made the other woman
pause.
"Yes?"
"I
am giving you autonomy to deal with this as you see fit. Whatever statements
you decide to release, I will stand by them. But for now, there's only thing I
ask-- leave me alone."
"But..."
"No. I
don't want to hear it. I pay you an exorbitant salary just for occasions like
this, so do your damn job and leave me the hell alone, until I call you
myself!"
Cutting
the call, she flung the phone aside, only to be jerked upright yet again by the
soft knock on her door.
A
moment later, her housekeeper entered. Holding a tray laden with food, she
walked over to the nightstand and placed it there.
"I
didn't think you'd want to come down for dinner, so I..."
"You
are dismissed."
The
woman's eyes flashed with fear.
"What? But
Ma'am, I..."
"Oh
don't worry, I'm not firing you. I just want you gone. For the
next few days. And don't come back until I call you. And that goes for the rest
of the staff as well. Including the driver."
"Even
the...security guard?"
"Especially him.
Make sure that's taken care of, will you?"
"But
Ma'am, it's not safe for you to..."
"There's
a security system around this place that could guard a bank, and you know that
as well as I do. Now, get yourself out of here and make sure that everyone is
out of the house in half an hour, or I will fire you."
There
was a moment of indecision, and then the housekeeper nodded before walking out
quickly.
The
woman on the bed pushed away the tray, then discarded her bathrobe and walked
over to the closet. Pulling out the first thing she saw, she shrugged into the
soft white t-shirt, and paired it with a floral skirt that was entirely
inappropriate for the season.
But
like all else, she was indifferent to that fact.
After
a half hour had passed, she opened her door, walked down the stairs and out
another door until she reached the small, enclosed garden behind the house. The
sound of the pounding surf mingled with the cry of the seagulls, but she paid
it no heed.
Her
eyes were blind to the beauty around her, and even as she turned to look back
at the house, they failed to register its magnificence.
The
mansion would have to be sold, of course.
Not
because she couldn't handle the memories attached to this place...that was not
going to be an issue. The real reason was that she had never liked this place
nor what it represented.
The
proximity to the beach had been its saving grace, but she could easily find
that elsewhere.
For
a while, she walked aimlessly around the garden, only returning as dusk fell.
Her
stomach growled, reminding her that she had eaten nothing since her hurried
breakfast before leaving for the court.
Her
steps stilled.
Why
was she bathing in cold water and denying herself any food?
She wasn't the one who
needed punishment here.
The
role of victim didn't suit her either, and once again, she fought against that
feeling of being adrift in a sea of uncertainty, unable to cling to anything
substantial.
Running
her hands through her damp hair, she pulled out a bottle of sparkling water
from the fridge, then drank most of it in one long swallow. Her eyes then fell
on a plate of sliced fruit, and she sat down at the dining table, forcing
herself to eat some.
When
she was done, a wave of fatigue overwhelmed her.
Feeling
as if all her energy had drained out of her body, she sagged against the dining
table. Knowing that its hard, unwelcoming surface was no place to take a
much-needed nap, she forced herself to walk out to the living room, then
dropped down onto the leather sofa.
In
seconds, she was asleep, her hair spread out over the black cushions.
-
9:00 PM
Amid
the hazy, swirling images in her dreams, one soft sound stood out as foreign.
She
resisted opening her eyes, knowing that it was probably something
inconsequential.
But
even through the mist of sleep, her senses registered that something was off.
They
sensed a...presence.
And
she knew that was impossible. There was no one else here but her...was there?
On
that thought, she jolted to complete wakefulness.
It
was dark. So dark that she couldn't see her own feet.
She
stumbled off the sofa and felt her way to the small corner table next to it.
Turning on the lamp, she waited for a few seconds for her eyes to adapt to the
sudden onslaught of light.
When
she could finally focus, she spun around in a circle. Nothing seemed to be out
of place.
The
living room appeared as it always did-- classic furniture and abstract art-- something
else she had always hated.
She
rubbed her eyes and decided that they could use some cold water to get rid of
the grimy feeling.
As
she walked to the restroom, she stilled with a sudden realization.
Not everything was
as it should be.
Swinging
around to face the front door, she registered the absence of the blinking red
light beside the mahogany door.
The
light that should have indicated that the security system was armed... that
light was off.
Her
thoughts went back to her agitated state when she had walked out to the garden
earlier in the day. She must have forgotten to reset the alarm after coming back
inside.
Shaking
her head, she walked over to the alarm and quickly turned it on. Returning to
her original destination, she washed her face rapidly, then stilled yet again.
That
persistent sense of unease just wouldn't leave her.
Suddenly,
she was conscious of the remote location of this house...and the fact that she
was here alone.
An
unassailable need to reach her phone overtook her at that moment.
Whirling
around, she dashed out of the restroom and ran up the stairs.
As
she reached her room, she realized that it was pitch dark here as well.
Turning
on the lights as she went, she looked down at the floor, expecting to find her
phone where she'd thrown it earlier.
It
wasn't there.
Panic
clawed at her as she rummaged among the bedclothes and then turned to search
the rest of the room.
She
couldn't find it.
The
silver glint of the land-line caught her eye and she reached for it in
desperation, aware that she was overreacting to something that probably had no
cause.
But
the unease just wouldn't be conquered.
Raising
the receiver, she started to dial the first person she could think of.
There
was no dial tone.
Her
eyes widening in astonishment and the beginnings of fear, she swung back
towards the door, the need to escape overwhelming her.
Almost
falling down the stairs in her haste, she ran over to the cabinet where all the
car keys were stored when not in use.
She
would drive herself over to a hotel, and then she'd call Anjali who would reassure
her and maybe check the mansion out before she ret--
Her
thoughts stumbled to a halt when her eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow behind
her...a hint of movement that should not have been there.
She
stopped short in blind terror as she realized that she had been right all
along.
There was someone
else in the house beside her.
And
then she heard a low, cold voice that turned the blood in her veins to ice.
"Don't
move. I have a gun trained on you. I don't want to use it, so don't force my
hand."
She
said nothing, her limbs beginning to shake as the tremors started in earnest.
"Turn
around slowly, and keep your hands above your head."
She
did nothing, unable to command her limbs.
It
was beyond her comprehension that this could be happening to her...
"Now!"
The
sharp word jolted her and she slowly raised her hands above her head, turning
to face the stranger for the very first time.
Dread
wove its icy tentacles around her as she registered the gun pointing straight
at her, held in the unwavering hand of a man dressed in all black.
His
face was covered in a ski mask, and only his eyes were visible.
And
those brown eyes were cold...cold as death.
"Walk
over to that chair and sit down there."
Unable
to tear her eyes away from the gun, she walked over on trembling legs to the
chair he had indicated.
In
an instant, he was behind her. Drawing her hands behind the chair, he secured
them quickly with what appeared to be a curtain tieback.
And
that threw her.
So
this wasn't a premeditated robbery of some sort? If he was
improvising with things from her own home, it couldn't be...
The
question broke through the cobwebs of fear that seemed to have over her head,
and she rushed into speech.
"What...what
do you want?"
He
straightened behind her.
"Nothing
that you can give me, I'm afraid."
She
sucked in her breath.
What
the hell did that mean?
"Look,
if it's cash you're after, there's really not much in the house. I do have
jewels, though, and I can tell you where..."
"Save
your breath. I told you, there's nothing here that I want."
"Then
why are..."
He
moved to face her, and the words died in her throat.
Towering
over her seated form, he was at least six feet tall. The gun was no longer in
his hand, but that didn't make him any less intimidating.
The
dead look in his eyes was enough to ensure that she shrank back in her seat,
her fingers twisting against their restraints.
He
stared at her for a long, long moment, and then turned away abruptly.
"I
need to make a call."
-
9:45 PM
She
stared at his broad back, her eyes jumping from his still form to the gun,
which was placed tantalizingly close.
There
was no way she could reach it, of course.
As
the fear dimmed, the sense of survival that had always stood her in good stead
regained control. She began examining and discarding various options, realizing
that there were very few.
There
was no point in yelling for help. Her nearest neighbor was over a mile away.
And after her strict instructions to all her staff, no one would be coming by
the mansion any time soon.
Had he known
that?
Was
that why he had come in, because she was here all by herself?
But
that didn't make any sense. After all, he hadn't once tried to harm her...yet.
Neither
had he tried to steal anything from the house.
All
he had done since tying her up was hold a low-voiced conversation with someone
using her phone. For a while now, he had stood by the French windows
that looked out on to an impeccably manicured lawn, his back to her as he
conducted his conversation in a tone that didn't reach her ears.
The
interval had given her the chance to regroup. Marshaling all her strength, she
had forced herself to calm down and think logically, and it had worked. Terror
still lurked in the background, but it wasn't as overwhelming as before.
She
needed to get help, she knew that. But she also knew that she needed to get out
of these restraints first. And in order to do that, she needed to talk to him,
find out his motives. She had no idea if he would even say anything, but it was
her only realistic hope. And through it all, she hoped that she did not enrage
him, turning him into the sort of captor that he hadn't been--so far, at least.
Biding
her time until he was done with his call, she forced herself to take deep
breaths, keeping her eyes fixed on his back.
She
began thinking about various ways in which she could begin questioning him, but
her thoughts scattered when he suddenly cut the call and threw her phone down
on the sofa, then leaned against the window sill, his shoulders slumping in
defeat. For long moments, he did nothing.
For
unknown reasons, her tension began to rise again. She suddenly felt extremely
foolish for thinking that she could reason with him in any way. After all, what did she
know about him? He was the man who had invaded her home, and here she was,
imagining that he would just as easily set her free.
Her
eyes wandered to the gun again. Whatever that phone call had been about, it
hadn't ended on a positive note. That much was obvious. What if that incited
him to harm her in some way?
That
thought turned her cold again.
She
closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from drowning in the well of panic
again.
One
deep breath...two deep breaths...
The
sudden sound of shattering glass made her eyes fly open, and a strangled scream
left her lips. Eyes widening in abject terror, she stared down at the remnants
of the Lladro figurine at his feet. The porcelain statue had stood on the
pedestal beside the window for as long as she had been here, and try as she
might, she couldn't stop the shivers from starting up again as she looked down
at the scattered fragments.
He
was staring down at them too, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
And
then he looked up at her, and she felt as if she had been turned to stone.
The
dark eyes that had been as cold as ice before, now burned with an unquenchable
fire.
Reflexively,
she shrank back in her seat.
Their
eyes clashed, one gaze rife with horror and the other alight with fury.
For
a long, tense moment, neither moved a muscle.
And
then, as suddenly as he had entered, he turned around and walked out into the
kitchen.
She
took several deep, painful breaths, aware from glimpses she caught in the
mirror above the fireplace that he was turning on lights in the kitchen.
She
had no idea what had just happened, and no idea what he was now doing. For an
insane moment, she debated calling after him, then clamped her lips shut.
Whatever
the hell was eating at him-- she couldn't care less about the cause. All she
wanted was the chance to talk to him, just once...and maybe try to reason her
way out of this untenable situation. As crazy as the idea was, she knew that
she had to try.
The
only problem was, she never got the chance.
-
11:50 PM
Her
eyes were burning with the effort it took to keep them trained on the mirror,
but she couldn't afford to tear her gaze away. It was the only way she could
keep track of what he had been doing behind her in the kitchen for the past two
hours now.
As
far as she could tell, he had been doing nothing but sit at the breakfast
counter, his head held in his hands. He would occasionally look at her phone,
then go back to staring down at his hands. Only once had he gotten up, to take
something from the fridge.
Close
on the heels of that thought, she realized that her own throat felt parched,
and her stomach was twisting with a mixture of hunger and dread.
What
was he going to do?
And
what was she going to do about it?
Her
patience suddenly snapped.
"I
need some water!"
Her
voice was high-pitched, nothing at all like her normal tone. But she didn't
care.
In
the mirror, she saw him still.
And
then he moved, but she could no longer see what he was doing. In a minute, he
was there before her, holding out a glass of water.
She
gave him a smile laced with sarcasm. "I might be able to perform miracles
on screen, but there's no way I can drink that with my hands tied."
He
looked down at her hands, then took a deep breath and held the glass to her
lips.
She
debated turning her head away, but thirst won out over all else and she took a
few sips of the clear, sparkling water before looking up at him again.
"Look,
this is stupid. You can't keep me tied up like this forever. You either tell me
what you want, or you do whatever you came here to do and get the hell
out."
She
regretted the impulsive words just as soon as they had left her lips, but it
was too late now. She held her breath, fearful of his reaction.
To
her amazement, the brown eyes lightened in what appeared to be a reluctant
acknowledgement of the ridiculous situation.
"Believe
me, if it were that easy, I would do just that."
He
took the glass away and started walking back, and her control snapped.
"Stop!
You can't just leave me here for the rest of the night!"
He
stilled, and then slowly turned back to face her. For a few minutes, he
appeared to be having an internal debate with himself.
Finally,
appearing to have come to some sort of decision, he walked over to the table
and exchanged the glass of water for the gun.
Her
heart stopped.
He
must have sensed her dismay, because he took a deep breath, then shook his
head.
"This
wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't the plan. I didn't need a hostage."
"Then
why are you holding..."
"Circumstances,
of course. I thought the house was empty. That's what I needed."
"This
is insane. In the morning, my staff will return and you..."
"They
aren't coming back. Not until you ask them to."
Her
eyes widened, and he answered her unspoken question.
"I
know that because I was out there by the road when they left, and I heard them.
What I obviously missed was the fact that their mistress was still here,
without her minions."
She
took a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around this.
"Alright,
then. If the house is what you want, you can take it. I'll just drive off in my
car, and you don't need to ever see me again."
To
her consternation, he laughed. "You must be confusing me with your dimwit
of an ex."
"What?"
"Lady,
the first thing you'll do when you get in that car is drive straight to the
cops. We both know that."
Chilling
fingers of dread shivered down her spine, and the next words left her lips
without forethought. "So you're on the run from the law."
He
looked away. "The less you know, the better it is for you."
She
raised her chin. "Now you must think that I am the stupid
one here. Or weak. And I can tell you that I'm neither."
He
sighed, then looked back at her again. "All you need to know is that I
need to lay low for a few days. This house is the perfect place to do that, and
I've already communicated that fact to an associate of mine. Until then, I'm
staying here. And unfortunately, so are you."
In
that instant, two things became crystal clear to her.
One,
her captor was deadly serious about what he was saying.
And
two, she needed to get the hell away from whatever was going down here.
By
any means necessary.
The
echoing chimes of the clock indicated that it was now midnight.
The
next day had begun.
-
Chapter 2
Edited by Volturi - 9 years ago
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