Lola's POV
It was too late for me to stop screaming.
Something manly was in my tent. A man who wasn't completely naked. Hauling purple silk ropes around my bed.
What I'm using.
I ran backwards so fast that my water bottle fell over. The pain in my heart felt like it was trying to go through my ribs. The man's eyes opened wide, and we just stared at each other for three awful seconds.
Who are you?" I shouted, my voice shaking. "What are you doing in my tent?"
He yanked hard against the ropes.
"Untie me! Right now!"
His voice was deep and angry, but something about it felt familiar. I grabbed my flashlight from the floor and held it up like a weapon, even though my hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped it.
"Not until you tell me who you are!"
"What am I doing?" He pulled at the ropes again, his face turning red. "You're the one who tied me up, you." He stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. "Wait. Lola Marlowe?"
Ice shot through my whole body.
He knew my name.
I squinted at him through the bright morning light coming through the tent. Dust covered his dark hair. Glitter sparkled on his chest. And those cold, gray eyes that I'd seen a million times on signs all over Las Vegas.
No. Please, no. "Enzo Marchesi?" The name came out as a whisper.
The flashlight fell from my hands and hit the ground with a loud thunk.
This couldn't be real. Not him. Anyone in the whole world but him.
Enzo Marchesi. The gambling owner who destroyed my family five years ago. The man who bought my dad's business and left us with nothing. The reason my parents got a divorce the reason I had to quit college. The reason I worked three jobs was to pay rent on my tiny flat.
And he was tied to my bed.
In my tent.
At Burning Man. "What did you do to me?" Enzo demanded. His voice was different now not just angry, but scared too. "How did I end up here?"
"I don't know!" I pressed my hands against my head, trying to think through the headache that was splitting my brain in half. My brain felt like mush. "I can't remember anything from last night!"
But that wasn't totally true. Little pieces were starting to come back. A bar made of old wood and Christmas lights. Tequila shots. Lots of them. A guy who said his name was Marco. We'd laughed about something. Danced. His hands are on my waist. My fingers are running through his hair. His lips on mine.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
Marco was Enzo.
I'd spent the whole night with Enzo Marchesi and never knew it was him. "Just untie me," Enzo said, and his voice was quieter now. More controlled. "Whatever happened last night, we can figure it out. Like adults."
Part of me wanted to leave him there. Let him know what it felt like to be useless. Let him feel what my family felt when he took everything from us.
But the smart part of my brain, the tiny part that wasn't screaming, knew I had to let him go.
My fingers stumbled with the knots as I crawled closer to him. I tried not to notice how warm his skin was, or how he smelled like campfire smoke and expensive cologne. My hands shook as I pulled the last rope free. "There," I said, backing away fast.
Enzo sat up and rubbed his wrists. He looked around my tent like he was seeing it for the first time. Then his eyes landed on something by his feet.
A piece of paper.
His face went totally white as he picked it up and read it. "What is it?" I asked, even though I really didn't want to know.
He turned the paper toward me with a shaking hand.
It was a marriage paper.
Official. Legal. With a gold seal at the bottom, and both our names signed at the bottom in messy handwriting.
I started laughing. I couldn't help it. This had to be a joke. Someone was pranking us. "This isn't real," I said, still laughing even though nothing was funny. "Someone's playing with us. That's fake." "Look at the seal." Enzo's voice was barely a whisper. He pointed to the gold stamp in the corner. "Look at the plate number. This is real, Lola. We got married last night."
The tent started spinning.
Married.
To Enzo Marchesi.
To the man I hated more than anyone on Earth. "No," I said, shaking my head so hard my vision blurred. "No, no, no. We'll fix this. We'll get it canceled. Right now. We'll leave and find a lawyer."
"There's a dust storm," Enzo interrupted, looking at his phone. "The event sent an alert. No one can leave for seventy-two hours. We're stuck here."
"Stuck?"
The word squeaked out of me. "We can't be stuck! I have to get back to Vegas. I have clients. I have bills to pay. I have" You think I want to be here?" Enzo snapped, standing up. He was really tall. Way bigger than he looked on TV. "I have a company to run. Meetings. A business kingdom. But unless you can control the weather, we're both stuck at this festival for three more days."
Three days.
Seventy-two hours.
Stuck in the desert with the man who ruined my life. The man I allegedly married while blackout drunk.
I wanted to cry. Or scream. Or both. "This is your fault," I said, even though I knew it was stupid. "You shouldn't even be here. Rich people like you don't go to Burning Man."
"My fault?"
His jaw got tight. "You're the one who tied me up!"
"You let me!"
"I was drunk!"
"So was I!"
We stared at each other, both breathing hard. The tent felt way too small. I could see a vein moving in his neck. His hands were clenched into fists.
This man destroyed everything I loved. My family. My dreams. My whole life.
And now I was married to him. "We need to figure out what happened," Enzo said finally, forcing his voice to sound cool. "We'll retrace our steps. Find people who saw us. There has to be a way to fix this."
"Fine,"
I said through my teeth. "But after that, I never want to see you again."
"Trust me, the feeling is mutual."
I turned to grab my jacket, and that's when I saw it.
My phone was lying face-up on the ground. It had one tiny bar of signal, just enough to show a new email message.
From Mrs. Chen. The rich client who'd invited me to Burning Man. The one who offered me a $500,000 contract if I met her here.
My hands shook as I opened the email.
Dear Lola, I never sent you a ticket to Burning Man. I've been on vacation in Europe for two weeks. Someone has been using my email address without my permission. I'm very sorry for any misunderstanding. - Mrs. Chen
The phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground.
Someone had lied to me. Someone had tricked me into coming here.
But who? And why? "What's wrong?" Enzo asked. He picked up my phone and read the email. I watched his face change from confused to understanding to something that looked like fear. "Lola," he said slowly. "I think someone set us up."
Before I could ask what he meant, his phone started buzzing. Once. Twice. Then it didn't stop twenty, thirty, forty times in just a few seconds.
He looked at the screen, and all the color drained from his face. "What?" I demanded, my heart racing again. "What is it?"
He turned his phone toward me without saying a word.
The screen showed a news headline with a picture. A picture of us. I stood over him with the flashlight raised. He was tied to my bed, looking scared and confused.
CASINO MOGUL HELD HOSTAGE: Desperate Woman Traps Billionaire in Desert Kidnapping Scheme
Below the article, there were thousands of comments. Shares. People are calling me terrible names. Saying I should go to jail.
My whole business. My image. Everything I'd worked so hard to build.
Gone.
All gone in one night, I couldn't even remember. "Who did this?" I whispered. "Who took that picture? Who sent it to the news?"
Enzo's phone rang, making us both jump. He answered it, and I watched his face get harder and colder with every second.
When he hung up, he looked at me with something I never expected to see in his eyes.
Pity. "That was my business partners," he said softly. "They're calling an emergency board meeting. They want me to press charges against you for kidnapping and attempted blackmail." He paused, and his voice got even quieter. "If I don't do it, they'll vote me out as CEO. I'll lose everything."
The whole world turned sideways.
This wasn't just a mistake anymore. This wasn't just a crazy story we'd laugh about someday.
This was a nightmare.
Someone had planned this. Someone had set us up. Someone wanted to destroy both of us.
And I had no idea who it was or why they hated us so much.
Enzo's phone buzzed again with another alert. Then another. The news story was spreading like fire.
I looked down at my hands and saw they were shaking. "Enzo," I said, my voice barely working. "What are we going to do?"
But before he could answer, someone outside the tent started shouting. "She's in there! The kidnapper is in there!"
Footsteps pounded toward us. Lots of them.
And we were stuck with nowhere to run.