Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as he whispered, “Guess again, princess.”
I turned and ran with everything I had.
CHAPTER 4
OLIVIA
My stilettos sank into the grass with each step and stumble, making escape from Marksen impossible.
I hadn’t even taken three steps before his hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me back into him.
I tried to scream, but his other hand was around my lips in an instant.
His camera’s bulky lens dug painfully into my back.
“Shhh, princess. We don’t want to cause a scene and ruin your brother’s big day,” he taunted in my ear. “What would people say?”
His words were tinged with cruel humor.
I didn’t understand what was happening or why he was doing this to me.
“Please,” I whimpered behind his hand.
Either he didn’t hear me or didn’t care.
“We are going on a little trip, and you are going to be my good girl.”
I fought him with everything I had, kicking, scratching, clawing.
The first thing they taught you when you were at a higher risk for kidnapping or being targeted was to do whatever you could to avoid being taken to a second location.
Once they got you to a second location, the chances of survival plummeted.
So I fought with every bit of strength I could muster.
Unfortunately, given the champagne coursing through my blood, my efforts weren’t very effective.
I kicked at his legs with my new Jimmy Choo shoes, trying to stab him with their pointy heels, sending the clumps of grass and dirt they were covered in flying. I even tried clawing his arms.
His suit coat was thick enough I didn’t think he even really felt my short gel French manicure’s attempt at gouging into his flesh. Even my kicks weren’t really slowing him down or dissuading him in the slightest.
Marksen was so much bigger than me.
Even with my added height from my stilettos, he was a good four inches taller than me. His shoulders were wider, and he seemed to have put on a lot more muscle since the last time I saw him. He had a good fifty to sixty pounds on me, easily.
“Keep struggling, little girl. I like it.” His whispered words, laced with a promise of violence and need, sent fear running through my veins, along with something else.
Something darker.
I pushed the unfamiliar feeling of want aside. That was for later when I was in the safety of my therapist’s office.
“No, please.” I tried again.
My words were still muffled by his hand pressed over my mouth. Frustrated tears blurred my vision as I tried to fight him off, but his hands were strong, and his grip was almost painful.
I knew in the morning I would have a kaleidoscope of bruises wherever he touched me.
The further we got from the lights and sounds of the party the more the realization set in.
I was in danger.
Real danger.
Whatever Marksen wanted from me, he was going to take, and there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it.
For the first time in my entire life, I was truly powerless.
What I wanted, or in this case, didn’t want, was of no consequence, and no amount of threats, promises of money, or name-dropping would change that.
I tried to remember what else I had learned from the consultants my father made my sister and me sit down with. We had spent hours with them learning self-defense and how to avoid panic. I wasn’t sure what he’d told us to do, mostly because I was panicking.
I kicked out again and dug my heel into the toe of his shoe.
He bit out a curse, and I managed to break from his grasp, knocking him to the ground before trying to run by him, back toward the safety of the party.
Marksen’s hand wrapped around my ankle and pulled back hard.
Tossing me to the cold, unforgiving ground.
It knocked the wind out of me.
Coughing, I tried to regain my breath as I crawled to my hands and knees.
He threw himself on top of me, stopping me, crushing me with his weight.
“That was a very bad thing to do. I was going to be a gentleman about this. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just going to take what I needed, and you would’ve been left unharmed. But you are leaving me no choice, little girl.”
Marksen didn’t sound like that charming boy I knew anymore.
His voice was different. Darker, harsher, void of the lighthearted laughter and banter I adored him for as a child.
This was the voice of a man pushed too far, full of hatred and promises of violence.
He lifted his body off me but kept his knee pressed painfully hard on my back, forcing me into the hard dirt, not giving me enough room to take a breath and call for help.
He pulled the long skirt of my dress up.
“No, please, please!” I sobbed. “Not like this.”