"Hello ma'am. My name is Antonio Giretti representing Songbird Press and we would very much like an exclusive interview."
The message played over and over again on my private voicemail. I could not help but wonder how this reporter had gotten my new number especially since my secret contact had undertaken the press and public regarding the planning of my concert. All I had to do was show up on the stage on the D-day and play.
I thought of calling my secret contact and running a background check on Songbird Press but I did not want to burden him anymore than I already had. I grabbed my new laptop and ran a quick google search. Songbird appeared to be a prominent journalism company, one of the best in fact in the country.
I frowned with confusion. Even if they wanted an interview, there was nothing I could tell them that I hadn't already told Amy Gold. With this in mind, I called Antonio Giretti in order to politely turn him down.
"We would give you fifty thousand dollars for the interview," he said, sounding absurdly desperate.
"It's not about the money," I told him as I reiterated that I had no new piece of information to give to the press.
"That doesn't matter Mrs Simmons. My job is on the line here. If I can't get an exclusive, I'll surely get fired. Please Ma'am, I have a wife and four kids."
"Fine fine, send me an address and time."
I could have easily directed him to meet me but I dreaded the press finding out where I was staying. Knowing them, they were bound to keep vigil outside my place of residence. Still, I knew my secret contact would not be pleased at the risk I was taking. I shrugged. It was just a harmless repetitive interview. My kindness to a stranger who needed a job to cater for his family. What was the worst that could happen?
I donned a face cap and sunshades to disguise my face. I left a note for my secret contact telling him where I went in case I wasn't back in time. Then I hailed a cab and drove towards my destination.
"Madam, the address you gave me does not seem to exist," the cab driver said crisply.
"What do you mean it doesn't exist? That's illogical."
"The address isn't showing on my map."
"Thank you very much." I tipped the driver handsomely and told him I'd ask the natives to point me towards the right place.
"Are you sure ma'am? This place seems a little bit too remote."
"Thanks for your concern. I'll be fine."
I watched the cab drive away then brought out my phone to call Antonio Giretti. "Hello where are you? I'm a bit lost. Do you think you can find me?"
"Did you come alone?"
"I took a cab, but why does that matter?"
"Very good Mrs Simmons."
Before I could blink, I was attacked from behind. A chloroform filled handkerchief was pressed against my nose and I breathed the harsh sweet scent. My body gave in, falling limp. Soon, my consciousmess have in too.
I had fucked up big time.
***
When I came around, it was with a pounding headache. I was in a dim room that looked a lot like a prison cell.
"Hello Ronica."
There James was, looking peckish in a suit and tie, with his two cronies flanking his sides. I stood up, swaying a bit and realized one of my ankles was chained to the ground.
"This is the second time you are doing this. Kidnapping me and holding me against my will."
James remorselessly tilted his head. A devilish smile played across his lips. "So what?" he retorted. "You are quite mouthy but at the end of the day, I will always have the upper hand."
"How dare you?" I lifted my hand and slapped him, his head swept to the side. Of course he had played dirty to get me here. He had tricked me.
SMACK!
I saw white spots in my vision as I stumbled and fell.
"I'll treat you like a bitch if I have to," James sneered. "You are in the basement of my villa, nobody knows about this place and I prepared this place for unforeseen circumstances such as this. Now here's how this is going to go. You will comply with my rules or you will never leave this room nor see the light of day. I might just let you have your silly concert if and only if you obey me."
James had won this round. He would continue to win if I remained stuck in here. "What do you want?" I asked with resignation.
"See? I told you she would see the light. I gave her the carrot but she wanted the stick like the bitch she is." James mocked me and his cronies laughed at me. James looked down on me smugly.
"I'll do what you want," I sniffed contritely. "You've won."
"Of course I won. I always do. Congratulations Ronica, you are pregnant."
My jaw dropped with amazement. "No, I'm not."
"Yes you are. Your father in law is giddy with joy. I spun him some story that you were on a retreat for quiet self celebration."
"You lied to him just to hide the divorce papers."
"There was nothing to hide," James declared. "There are no divorce papers because I threw them in the fireplace."
"Fine, let's say there's no divorce. I'm not pregnant," I stated matter of factly. James was being reckless, lying to his father of all people.
James grinned. "That's not true. You are two months pregnant."
The blood drained away from my face as it finally dawned on me. James wanted me to claim Mona's pregnancy! He was totally insane.
"Does Mona know about this?"
"Whatever I say goes," James said coldly. "I have given you your only option to leave here. There is no negative answer. So do well to consider your one and only option."
James turned on his heels and left with his cronies. The metal door shut with a sinking finality. I heard metal bolts sliding into place to seal me inside. I was left alone with my thoughts of deep deliberation. James was a dangerous man.
Ronica— 1
James— 1
I had fooled him once already. Could I really fool him again?