Fake Marriage Box Set

“Don't worry,” Renée said sweetly. “I'm not a total bitch, although that's what you seem to think. I left the brat and your maid at your house. They're locked in a closet and can't get out, but they're safe. I don't care about them. No, your bitch is the one who I've got a problem with.”

I was flooded with relief hearing that Emma and Janice were unharmed, but that didn't change the fact that I still didn't know where Renée was or what she'd done to Lexi. I remembered what she'd said about a bullet and realized that Lexi must be there, and that Renée must be planning to shoot her. She hadn't shot her yet, but she was planning on it.

I swallowed hard.

“Please, Renée,” I begged. “Please, let Lexi go. It's me that you have a problem with, not her. If you let her go, I'll give you anything. You know that I can do that. I'll give you anything.” I hated sounding that desperate. I hated begging, and I hated that I was bending to her game. But it was all worth it, if it meant that I could ensure Lexi's safety.

“The only thing that I want, you're never going to give me,” Renée said acidly. “Not as long as this bitch is still here to poison your mind. Don't you think I don't realize that? But once she's out of the picture, you can be mine again. Just like it's meant to be.” She was quiet for a moment. “You and I were meant to be together. I knew that long before you did. Our families are meant to be joined, with all of our wealth pooled together. And you and I would have been

the poster children for the elite, the perfect relationship standard. We'll look so good on the cover of all the magazines, don't you think?”

I could tell from the way that she was changing between different verb tenses, between what she wanted to have happen and what she imagined would happen, that she was totally gone. There wasn't anything left.

And logic didn't work on someone who had no sanity left.

But I had to at least try. “Renée, please. There must be something else that you want. I could give you everything that I own; wouldn't that satisfy you? You'd be one of the richest people in the world. I'm sure men would be knocking themselves out trying to get a date with you. You'd forget all about me. Wouldn't that be better?”

“You bragged about your wealth and power before,” Renée said mockingly. “You thought it made you so high and mighty. But now I have all the power. Right here.”

“Anything you want, Renée,” I said again, stressing the words so that she would know how serious I was.

“Hmm, I'll think about it,” Renée chirped. But her laugh told me all that I needed to know: she wasn't even considering it. Her mind was probably fixated on her obsession: the idea of killing Lexi.

And Lexi, I could only imagine what she must have been feeling. She would be terrified. So would Emma. Janice would try to hide her own terror to comfort the young girl, but she would be scared as well. And all of this was my own fault. Why had I been so stupid? Why hadn't I realized that Renée would do just this? A restraining order meant nothing to her. She was psychologically unsound.

“If I see the police, I'll kill her,” Renée said, her final words before she hung up the phone.

For a moment, trapped in my worried thoughts, all I could do was stare at the receiver and listen to the dead line. Then, I sprang into action, punching out the number that I had up on my computer screen. It was for a private security firm that I worked with. I had suspected that Renée wouldn't want the police involved. I fully believed her when she said that she would pull the trigger if she saw police. But the security firm would know what to do. They were trained for this sort of thing.

The phone seemed to ring for an agonizingly long time, despite the fact that it only took two rings before someone picked up. “This is Andrew Goldwright,” I blurted out. “I've got a Code Ultra Violet.”

“Location?”

I rattled out Renée's cell phone number, knowing that they could use that to trace her. It was all the information that I had for them.

Once I was satisfied that they were on their way toward Lexi, I called the police and directed them toward my house, telling them that there had been a break in.

Then, I sat back in my chair for a moment, wondering just what to do now. As much as I wanted to be the hero, I didn't even know where Lexi was. I couldn't swoop in and save her. God, I would die if anything happened to her.

I stood up, reminding myself that I could still go home and see Emma. Emma, who probably needed a serious amount of cuddles, ice cream, and therapy to get over this. My heart broke, thinking of how terrified she must be.

All my fault, that voice inside me reminded me again. I pushed it away and headed towards the parking lot. It was only after I reached my car that I realized how bad my hands were shaking. I probably shouldn't be driving in this state. I paused for a moment and then, in a daze, called a driver and instructed them to bring a car around to the front of the building.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lexi

I sobbed as Renée hung up the phone. Nothing Andrew had said had been directed at me, even though he must have realized that he was on speakerphone and that I could hear everything that he said. But it had been marginally calming just to hear his voice. I knew that he was going to try to rescue me.

Unfortunately, I'd have to figure out some way to stay alive long enough for him to figure out where I was and come rescue me. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to do that, not when Renée was standing there in a floor-length crimson gown, brandishing a gun at me. I kept expecting her to accidentally shoot the thing, what with all her theatrical posturing.

In some part of my mind, it was almost funny, watching her. But all I could feel just then was terror.

I wished that I could have given Andrew some information, some clue about where to find us. But even though Renée hadn't gagged me, I didn't seem capable of speech. I couldn't tell him much anyway. All I could see was that we were in some sort of warehouse, but in a city like Seattle, that didn't exactly narrow it down. I knew we must have driven someplace before Renée tied me up in this chair, but I couldn't remember that part. She must have knocked me out with some sort of drug when we were still back at Andrew's place.

I was just relieved to hear her say that Emma and Janice were all right. That had been my first concern, as soon as I'd come fully to my senses.

Renée stalked towards me, her eyes narrowed. “I still can't believe you think that you deserve him,” she snarled. “You're just some poor, white-trash, gold-digging bitch with a little brat. Andrew doesn't want you. You're not his type. He's only putting up with you because he's convinced that the brat is his.”