The morning air was crisp, biting at the exposed skin of Emily's neck, but she was too numb to care. The only thing she felt was the frantic, mechanical stutter of her heart as she forced her legs up the park's northern slope.
Her morning jog was no longer the reflective time she had enjoyed. It had been twisted into an escorted exercise in a high-security yard.
Exactly five paces behind, a man in charcoal suit, tailored to hide the bulge of a weapon, and the tactical sunglasses that acted like obsidian mirrors wasn't just watching her; he was monitoring her. Every glance she gave a stranger, every stumble in her step, every breath she drew, it was all being logged.
Emily finally came to a halt, her palms plastered on her knees as she gasped for air. Her chest heaved with more than just physical exhaustion. It was also the weight of her growing despair, heavy and suffocating.
She hadn't stopped thinking about Alex. It's been five days and he hasn't been back. She wondered what could be going on. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to reach her as Tony had her phone.
Then, the silence was shattered by the sharp, electronic chirp of a radio. She flinched.
"Mr. Torredo is ready for her." The voice on the other end was flat. Professional. Chillingly hollow.
The guard didn't ask if she was finished. He didn't have to. He simply stepped into her path, his shadow falling over her like a shroud, extinguishing the morning sun.
"We're going back. Now."
Emily didn't argue. She couldn't. She simply nodded, wiped the sweat from her brow with a hand that wouldn't stop shaking, and turned back down the slope. Toward the skyline. Toward the glass and steel cage where her owner was waiting.
***
When Emily stepped through the foyer, the quiet she was used to and enjoyed was gone. It was replaced by the hushed, hurried movements of the household staff.
She froze, staring in confusion as she watched two maids carry her designer gowns out of her bedroom. A valet followed, clutching a stack of her private journals and a small jewelry box.
"What is going on?" she demanded, her voice echoing sharply against the marble walls.
The house manager stopped, his eyes fixed on a point just above her shoulder, refusing to meet her gaze. "Mr. Tony asked us to move your things to the master suite, ma'am."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath her. Before she could protest, Tony emerged from the master suite. He was terrifyingly composed as he fastened the heavy gold cufflinks of his dress shirt. He gave the staff a nod of approval before his gaze settled on Emily.
She glared at him, "What is this about?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of Tony's lips. "Don't be so dramatic. It's time we start living like a real married couple. Share the same room… the same bed. Help you remember your role so you stop chasing after ghosts."
"Do real husbands also take their wives' mobile phones and every electronic device?" Emily fired.
Tony walked up to her, his presence sucking the oxygen from the room. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her cheek that felt less like affection and more like a brand of ownership.
"Go take a shower. Be down in thirty minutes," he murmured, "We will have breakfast like a family, and then we head out. Don't keep me waiting." He brushed past her.
***
The Torredo estate in Texas was a fortress of a different kind. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth but to Alex, it was suffocating.
He barged into his father's study, his boots clicking against the Persian rug. "I have been here for five days. You said I couldn't leave until we have this 'conversation,' yet you haven't said a word. We can either have it now or not, either way, I am leaving tomorrow."
Louis Torredo sat behind his massive mahogany desk, looking older and more tired than Alex had ever seen him. Without a word, he pulled himself from his chair and crossed to the mini-bar. "Did I ever tell you how your uncle and I really started Torredo Global?"
Alex rolled his eyes, the weight of the old family lore exhausting him. "Yeah, yeah. You had only a hundred dollars when you first moved to New York and worked until your fingers bled—"
"Not that," Louis cut in, his voice sharp. "The true story of how we broke out."
Louis poured scotch into two glasses and held one out. "Sit," he commanded.
Alex obeyed, the tension in the room thickening.
Sinking back into his chair, Louis pulled a weathered photograph from a drawer and tossed it onto the desk. It was a mugshot of a much younger, harder Louis.
Alex's eyes widened. "You went to prison"
"We were working construction for Mateo back in '76," Louis said, his gaze fixed on the past. "His son, Lucia, beat a man and left him crippled. Mateo needed a fall guy. I took the hit. The payout he gave… that's what this empire was built on."
Alex's jaw dropped. "Why are you just telling me this?"
"Because I need you to understand that nothing in life is free. Everyone pays a price for what they want. I paid mine. Your uncle paid for his. Now, it's your turn. All you have to do is marry Victoria and focus on the Cosgrove merger"
"What do you mean by 'my uncle paid for his'?"
Louis remained silent, his expression unreadable.
"You know about it, don't you?" Alex's voice rose. "You know he framed Emily's father and forced her into that marriage just to swallow their company. How is that a price to pay? That's a crime."
"Because he has to—" Louis stopped himself, the words dying on his tongue.
"Did you people kill her father?" Alex's voice dropped to a terrified whisper. Alex's voice was a whisper
"Don't be stupid!" Louis snapped, slamming his hand down. We are businessmen not murderers. I cannot believe you would sit there and accuse your own blood of such a thing. That Lawson woman has filled your head with poison."
"I'm sorry, Dad. It's just… none of this adds up."
"It is not your place to determine what adds up and what doesn't."
"It is not your place to determine what adds up," Louis countered, his voice leveling into a cold, hard calm. "You will return to New York and marry Victoria this weekend. I've already secured an apartment for the two of you; your things have been moved. From this moment on, Emily Lawson does not exist to you. You will be the CEO this family needs."
"And if I turn it down?" Alex whispered.
"You can't, you already signed the deal."
Alex's heart pounded. "You will rather trade the soul of your son than lose your wealth."
"I'm saving your life," Louis countered, his voice chillingly flat. "Cosgrove won't be kind if he decides you're a liability. Even I won't be able to protect you. So, you have to pay your price."
Alex falls back into his seat, completely defeated.
***
Back at the New York penthouse, as the sun began to set, Emily found her first sliver of opportunity.
Tony had stepped out for an urgent conference call, and in the chaos of his departure, the door to his private office had been left ajar. The guard was momentarily distracted by a delivery at the elevator; a rare, precious lapse in the wall of security surrounding her.
She slipped inside, her heart beating fast. The office was dim, smelling of Tony's expensive signature cigar. Her eyes landed on the safe embedded in the wall. With trembling fingers, she punched in three codes in rapid succession: Tony's birthday, the date of Tony and Isabella's wedding, Isabella's birthday.
Access Denied.
She hissed a breath through her teeth, her gaze darting to the desk. There, perched atop a stack of Project Titan blueprints, sat a phone.
She snatched it up, her fingers flying as she dialed the one number she had learnt by heart.
"Lawrence, it's Emily."
"Emily." The voice on the other end was a low, cautious rasp.
"Tony knows I contacted you. I'm being watched every second and won't be able to meet up."
"I suspected," Lawrence said, her tone tight with urgency. "You need to find a way to escape by the weekend, then call me and I will tell you where to meet. After the weekend, this number will no longer be available."
"Got it," Emily whispered, her eyes glued to the sliver of light from the hallway.
Just then, a heavy thud of footsteps echoed toward the room. Emily's blood turned to ice. She quickly deleted the call log and shoved the phone back onto the desk, aligning it with obsessive precision.
She dove behind a high cupboard just as the door handle began to turn. She pressed her back against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and holding her breath until her lungs burned.
The door pushed open with a soft creak. Emily waited for the heavy tread of Tony's shoes and the scent of his cologne to announce his presence.
She was trapped.