I escaped my father to get away from men like Darren. It was arrogant, selfish, image-obsessed assholes like him that finally pushed me over the edge and forced me to run away from everything I ever knew and loved.
Running from home was never part of the plan. I didn’t want to give up my life and all my friends.
But my mother’s words drifted back again and again: your past always claws you back, baby.
“Are you okay?”
I looked up and expected one of the smiling front desk girls. I figured she’d been sent to drag me back to my captor.
Instead, it was the beautiful, ageless Oligarch woman, Maeve.
Her lips were curled down in a frown. Her head was tilted to the side. Several line cooks stared at her openly.
She was beautiful, but it wasn’t because of her physical features. An aura hung around her, an aura of power and command and control. She looked as though she could destroy this room with a thought if she wanted to and knew it.
“I’m fine,” I managed to say. I hadn’t expected her to come find me.
“Darren’s worried. He thinks you’ve escaped.” She looked down at my leg. “But you haven’t, have you?”
I followed her gaze. The GPS tracker around my ankle was visible. My jeans must’ve been pulled up during the fight earlier and I hadn’t noticed. “I forgot about that thing.”
“Easy to forget such a small thing.” She glanced to the side toward the man that’d been nice to me and snapped her fingers. He came over, wiping seat from his brow. “Clear the room, please, Chef.”
“Yes, miss.” He turned and began barking orders in Spanish.
Instantly, everyone reacted. They put down spoons, pots, pans. Left food half-chopped. They turned off burners and hurried out while the chef kept egging them on until the entire industrial kitchen was empty except for me and Maeve.
She seemed as though she filled every inch and every corner. Her presence was magnetic and intense. She dragged a chair over and sat down across from me, her back straight, hands folded neatly in her lap.
“I take it you don’t want to marry Darren.”
“No, I don’t. That wasn’t supposed to be part of this.”
“This.” She arched an eyebrow. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“I’m not sure.” I wiped at my face with both hands. “I’m his captive. I understand that. But I thought we had a deal.”
“Which was what?”
“He’d use me against Roman and Cassie. I’d try to escape. In the end, I’d go home.” As soon as I said it out loud, I knew it was absurd.
How could he ever release me after all this? After what I’d seen of his life?
Maeve laughed softly. It was a sad sound, like she truly pitied me.
I hated her for that, just a little bit.
“He’s right, you know. Together, you two would make a formidable couple.”
“If he thinks he can use me to get to my father’s money, he’s definitely wrong about that.”
“You’d be surprised. Darren’s extremely persuasive. But it isn’t the money he wants.”
Power. Connections. My father was deeply embedded in the world of the rich and influential. Darren could use those connections to further his goals.
Which were, apparently, to change the Oligarchs into something more active. Whatever that meant.
“Do you believe him?”
Maeve looked thoughtful. “I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve known him for a while now and he’s always been consistent. Darren’s like the rest of us, morally compromised and rigidly self-centered, but he truly does think our group could do more good in the world. However you want to define good.”
“Even if that’s true, I don’t see how marrying me will help.”
“He’s been unruly. He lets his feud with Roman get the better of him too often and that’s been a problem. Until recently, their spats have been contained to proxies, but that changed.”
I knew all about that. Cassie told me how Darren flooded Roman’s home bunker with water and killed half his guard staff.
“I don’t see how I’m supposed to help with any of that.”
“Perhaps he thinks you’ll soften him.” She pursed her lips. “I hate when men think that. As if we’re supposed to be their conscience.” She leaned toward me, eyebrows raising. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Winter. I’m worse than any of the men, but I’m also smarter. I don’t need someone else to tell me when I’m making a mistake.”
I felt fear slide down my spine. I wanted to get up and get the hell out of here—but there was nowhere to go. If Maeve tracked me down so quickly, Darren wouldn’t be far behind.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know if you have much of a choice. There are worse things than being married to an Oligarch.”
“I can’t think of any.”
She let out a soft laugh. “Perhaps the reason you faked your death is worse.”
I gripped the edge of the stool. “You don’t know anything about me.”