Chapter 11
The rest of the ride to work felt like a slow descent into darkness. I sat next to Colson, my mind spinning, trying to piece myself back together after the brutal confrontation in the limo. I could still feel his fingers around my throat, the memory of his rage seared into my skin.
Every breath felt like a reminder that I had narrowly escaped something far worse. I tried to steady my hands, but they trembled violently, the adrenaline refusing to fade.
I forced myself to look out the window, focusing on the city passing by, but it was all a blur.
The buildings, the people, the traffic—it all melted into a haze.
I was too shaken to concentrate on anything, and the silence in the limo was suffocating.
Colson was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and I wondered if he regretted what he'd done or if he was already planning his next move.
When we arrived at the office, I was barely holding it together.
I followed Colson to his office, my legs heavy, each step an effort.
As soon as we were inside, he handed me the prenup without a word, the document that would bind me to him, to this life, until death do us part.
My hands trembled as I took the pen, my eyes scanning the pages with a sinking feeling in my gut.
I paused when I reached the section about my father’s company and Logan’s promotion.
The words were stark, laid out in black and white, a noose tightening around my family.
If I left the marriage before five years, Colson would call in the investment, and my father would either have to repay the money or lose his business.
Logan would be fired without a reference.
That wasn’t the agreement I made with him but I should’ve expected Colson would cover all his bases.
A cold dread settled over me, freezing the air in my lungs.
This was more than a marriage; it was a trap, a cage I couldn’t escape from without destroying everything I loved.
The realization hit me like a punch to the stomach, and I had to swallow down the bile rising in my throat.
I was tethered to Colson, at least for the next five years, and the internal pep talks I’d given myself seemed hollow now. Could I really survive this?
I forced myself to keep going, flipping to the next page, but what I saw made my blood run cold.
Colson had included the clause about children—or rather, the lack of them.
He didn’t want any, and he would monitor my birth control to ensure I didn’t get pregnant.
It was part of the non-negotiables, and though I already knew this, to see it written on the page was almost too much.
The pen slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the desk.
I stared at the words, the future I had imagined crumbling before my eyes.
I wanted a child. I had always dreamed of having a family, of holding my baby in my arms, of giving them the love I had received as a child.
But Colson had taken even that from me, reducing my hopes to nothing more than lines on a contract.
“Sign it, Josephine,” Colson’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. He leaned back in his chair, watching me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
I picked up the pen, my hand shaking as I signed my name at the bottom of the page, each stroke of the pen feeling like a nail being driven into my coffin. I barely finished before Colson took the papers from me, his expression unreadable.
“Good,” he said, his voice cold enough to make me shiver. “Now, you belong to me almost completely. Once we marry…you’re mine.”
I nodded numbly, but inside, I was screaming. Trapped in a gilded cage with no way out, tethered to a man who would stop at nothing to keep me under his control. As I walked out of his office, I knew one thing for certain—I wasn’t sure I could survive this, but I had no choice.
I shut the door behind me, leaving the lights off as I leaned against the cool wood.
My stomach twisted, the breakfast I'd forced down now threatening to come back up. The pressure on my throat from Colson’s grip still lingered, a phantom ache that I couldn't rub away no matter how hard I tried.
I swallowed, but it did little to ease the nausea clawing at me.
For the next four hours, I sat at my desk, my eyes locked on the laptop screen, yet nothing registered.
My inbox was full—requests, questions, tasks that needed my attention—but I couldn’t bring myself to open a single email.
I was unraveling, the threads of my sanity pulling apart with every passing minute.
The more I tried to hold myself together, the faster I felt myself slipping away.
At noon, the phone rang, Colson’s extension flashing on the screen. My heart sank. The last person I wanted to see was him, but I had no choice. His voice was curt, almost indifferent, as he informed me, he needed me in his office.
I hung up without saying much, staring blankly at the phone as a wave of dread washed over me. The thought of facing him after what happened... I wasn’t sure I could do it. But I couldn’t avoid him, either. I knew that much.
With trembling hands, I pushed away from the desk and straightened my blouse, forcing my legs to carry me out the door and toward his office.
My heart pounded with every step, each one harder than the last. All the internal pep talks I’d given myself over the last few weeks suddenly felt hollow, empty words that couldn’t protect me from what was coming.
His assistant's perfectly manicured hand waved me inside, her smile never quite reaching her eyes.
I stepped into Colson's office, my heart racing as I took in the sight of my soon-to-be husband.
He sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, looking every inch the powerful businessman in his crisp black suit and deep purple tie.
Colson's piercing gaze flickered up as I entered, his pen poised mid-signature. "Josephine," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'm glad you're here. There's been a change of plans."
I raised an eyebrow, tension coiling in my stomach. "Oh?"
He set down his pen, folding his hands atop a stack of documents. "I have a last-minute business negotiation in London. I'm leaving shortly and should be back in two days."
I nodded, trying to mask my disappointment. Colson's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing my reaction.
"I expect you to continue your training schedule in my absence," he added, his tone brooking no argument. "And Josephine?" He paused, waiting until I met his gaze. "I prefer you don't sleep in Easton's room again. I was none too pleased this morning."
My cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and defiance. "I understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gathering my courage, I asked, "Colson, I'd like to visit my parents. Do you know where they are?"
As employees of my fiancé, my parents had a phone plan attached to the estate. Once they no longer were working for Colson, their cell numbers were terminated. Other than stopping at the bakery to see my mother, I had no idea how to reach them.
A flicker of something—annoyance? concern? passed across his face before his expression smoothed into neutrality. "I don't," he replied, his tone clipped. "Your father's payments are direct deposited into his account each week. I haven't had contact with your family since they moved."
I didn’t believe him. Suspicion gnawed at me. It wasn't like my parents or brother not to reach out. Could Colson be isolating me from them?
"Then I'd like to have lunch with Logan sometime this week," I pressed, searching for any reaction.
Colson steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. "That's not possible," he said smoothly. "Logan is training at my Los Angeles office. He won't be back for at least three weeks."
My brother wasn’t answering his phone either and when I stopped by his office, he wasn’t there. Now I knew why.
Frustration bubbled up inside me. "I need my family," I blurted out, my voice cracking.
Colson's eyes flashed dangerously as he stood, palms flat on his desk. "I am your family," he growled. "You'll be an Ashworth soon."
I lifted my chin, meeting his glare. "But for now, I'm a Shaw."
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking with barely contained anger. "I think it is better if you wait to see your family," he said, his voice low and threatening. "Don't challenge me on this, Josephine."
The fight drained out of me, my shoulders slumping in defeat. After this morning's ordeal, I didn't have the energy to argue further. "Fine," I muttered.
Colson's posture relaxed slightly, satisfied with my acquiescence. "The limo is waiting," he said, his tone softening. "I'll see you on Thursday evening, when I would like to continue your nightly visits to my room."
My stomach churned at the implication, a confusing mix of dread and anticipation flooding through me. I couldn't deny how good the orgasm he gave me felt, how a part of me craved more despite my misgivings.
As I turned to leave, Colson called out, "Josephine?" I paused, my hand on the doorknob. "Remember, everything I do is for us—for our future."
I nodded without looking back, slipping out of the office with my thoughts in turmoil and my heart racing with conflicting emotions.
Velva was waiting for me when I arrived, her sharp eyes already assessing me as I stepped into the room. "Let’s see what you remember from yesterday," she said, her voice as crisp as her tailored suit. There was no room for error; she was ready to pounce on any mistake.