“No.” Brody shook his head back and forth. “They aren’t talking about her rescue as much. They’ve moved on to another story—some other rich chick got kidnapped last night.”
“I guess we started an epidemic.” I stifled a laugh and grabbed a bottle of water before joining him in the living room.
“Maybe.” He nodded. “This one is famous though—not just in Chicago where the Prescott name makes you famous. It’s the Doll Face girl.”
“Ah yea, I remember her. Everyone talked about how she had porcelain skin or some shit.” I shrugged. “At least that will let people focus on something else for a little while. I’d rather see something else on the news other than my freaking face.”
“Same here.” Brody nodded again and looked over at the bottle of water as I twisted off the cap. “Not starting with coffee and a smoke?”
“Nah, not today. I went without my vices for a year while we were locked up. Already feel like shit again—might as well try to cut back.” I lifted the water to my lips and took a swig.
“Heh, not me.” Brody lit a cigarette. “I’ve never felt more alive.”
Yeah, but I don’t think it’s the nicotine and caffeine doing it. I think you’ve finally seen what was inside you all along. Let’s hope all of this isn’t ripped away before we get a chance to truly enjoy it.
Anabelle
Several days later
The authorities were starting to waiver in their search for Brody and Rourke. They had searched every abandoned building they could find, which is how I described the place I was held—some kind of warehouse, with a lot of empty boxes. I eavesdropped on my father whenever I could, learning what he said to others when he didn’t think I was around. He kept his guards outside, but the inside of Prescott Manor was limited to a few workers and two guys who stayed downstairs. Anything that I learned, I typed out in a notepad on my phone, making sure that I didn’t miss any details. After I had collected information for several days, I went to my room and started researching. I wanted to know the name of everyone he was associated with—who they were—how they could tie into his kingdom.
“Oh my god.” I lifted my hand to my lips when I typed Josef Weber into the search engine on my computer.
Josef Weber was a criminal, just like my father, but he got caught—he was in jail for his connection to an investment fraud, which sounded like something my father would engage in, and—murder? Not only that, but once I started reading the news article, I saw another familiar name—Hannah Clark. She was wanted for the same thing Weber was, which meant my father was definitely involved somehow if he was communicating with her. The most shocking thing about Weber was learning that he was dead—killed in his cell—on the same day that Brody and Rourke escaped. I couldn’t help but wonder if my father had somehow been responsible for the power surge that allowed Brody and Rourke to escape, especially if he wanted Weber dead. It seemed risky though, even for a man as powerful as my father. He would have known that Brody and Rourke were in there—and if he was willing to kill Weber, why not them? They seemed like a big enough threat, especially since they knew the truth about what he did to John.
But that didn’t matter as long as I was his star witness. Now that I’m not, he put out the hit on them too. And if he could give an order like that so easily, then he could have given one to take out John. This was all about control and nothing else. He knew he was losing his grip on me and he needed to make sure that didn’t happen.
Too bad it’s long gone now—and nothing he can say will ever give it back to him.
I kept researching, looking up other people, keeping detailed notes as I came up with more information. Every name that I heard seemed to belong to a criminal or someone that was in business. I had to assume, based on what I had already uncovered, that they were all shady. A bunch of shady men that bowed to only one king—a king that I was determined to dethrone. I really had no idea how far his reach went. Were the cop’s loyal subjects as well? Was the District Attorney that took my statement a pawn in his game? I needed something concrete, evidence that couldn’t be overlooked, even if I had to go to the FBI. My statement wasn’t good enough, because my father would know I betrayed him if I changed my story.
He needs to be defeated before I deliver the final blow. But how?
“Anabelle, are you okay?” My father’s voice caused me to nearly fall out of my bed—I was so lost in my investigation that I didn’t hear his footsteps when he approached.
“Yeah.” I looked at him and pretended to force a smile. “I’ve been looking at Google Maps—trying to find anything that looks familiar. I think it would be easier if I just knew they were behind bars.”
My finger drifted down to my phone and I started recording—just in case, he said something incriminating.
“I know.” He walked over and sat down at the foot of my bed, so I quickly closed my laptop and put my phone face down on top of it. “I guess you see those two scumbags for what they really are now—and understand that I made the right choice the night you brought them to Prescott Manor.”
“Yes.” I nodded.
No. A million times no.
“I think we need to revisit our previous discussion about finding you a husband. I know I told you that I would let you have time—but this whole situation has made me realize that I won’t be able to protect you forever.” He exhaled sharply.
“How would having a husband help?” I felt my eyes narrowing, but I tried to keep my emotions in check. “I would have still been downtown—just using his credit card instead of the one you gave me.”
“Maybe, or you could have been at home—with your children.” He looked over at me. “The future of this family depends on you.”
“I won’t be a Prescott after I get married.” I tilted my head to the side.
“You’ll always be a Prescott, regardless of what your last name is. Your children will be Prescott’s too. One day they’ll grow up to sit in my chair—just like you will after I’m gone.” He nodded aimlessly.
You’re going to be gone sooner than you think—and I’m definitely not going to be a mother before then.
“I guess it’s time.” I sighed. “If any man wants me—after what those monsters did to me in that warehouse.”