Chapter 18 The Astronomical Sum
THE ASTRONOMICAL SUM
EMERY
A persistent ache throbs in my brain, each beat reverberating through my skull as soft humming fills my ears. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. It’s too hard. Too painful. I struggle to stay conscious, everything around me blurring into a disorienting swirl of colors and shapes and noises.
Muffled voices sound from afar, distant and indistinct. What are they talking about? I try to focus on their words, but it’s useless, like fine grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
Where am I? The questions lingers on the edge of my consciousness, and I can’t piece two and two together.
I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t talk.
Icy air rushes past me, my muscles achy and sore.
Move. Try to move. I struggle against the restraints binding my ankles and wrists together. Useless. It’s useless.
A zap of panic passes through me as the whirring of an engine registers in the back of my mind. A helicopter? No. A plane. I’m on a plane? My pulse quickens, head spinning.
Where is she taking me? Why is she doing this?
I drift in and out of consciousness, silently crying out for help.
Help me… Help me… Help me…
Can they hear me?
Hear me.
Please.
My eyes snap open in a jolt and I gasp.
My temples pulse as I struggle to make out where I am. Where she brought me. Dread overwhelms each one of my senses, making it difficult to process, to understand.
I scrunch my nose, cringing at the scent of the stale and musky air. A shiver courses down my spine as I blink, making out the dirty walls, stained with grim and mildew.
Wincing, I try to sit up on the tattered mattress, but…but I can't. I can’t move.
What?
Panic sets in as my foggy gaze floats the chain wrapped around my left ankle, securing me to a pole anchored deep in the cold cement floor.
A whimper escapes my lips as I take in the bloodstains on my white evening gown.
It’s ruined. Hesitantly, I place a hand over the crusted blood on my cheek and forehead.
Fuck…
As my eyes gradually adjust to the dimness, I begin to make out a cluster of computer monitors illuminated in the distance. They don’t fit in here. They don’t belong. This room is disgusting, a grotesque wasteland. And yet, the computers are shiny and new and…expensive.
I squint toward the monitors, attempting to make out…anything. A clue. An idea of where the hell she brought me. I can’t see anything on the screens. Not properly. Not when my head pounds and my eyes are still raw. Data, maybe? A map? But what does it mean? Why am I here?
The large computer chair in front on the monitors creaks, and my breath hitches as it slowly swivels around. The dim overhead lights shine down on a petite figure, their features shrouded in shadows. My gaze locks with theirs, and my stomach churns.
"Toni," I whisper, my voice trembling.
It's been several weeks since our meeting in Central Park but it’s her. Her appearance is unforgettable. Her plump red lips, thick long curls, and those eyes. Those fucking eyes that hold a glint of madness that twists my insides.
“Emery Jones.” Toni tilts her head to the side, my name slipping off her tongue with chilling intentions.
“It is a shame that we meet again under such unfortunate circumstances.” Her gaze flicks to the chain around my ankle and she sighs.
“I apologize for the, uh…extreme measures but it is necessary.” She snaps her head at me.
“The last time someone tried to run away, it ended quite poorly…for all of us.”
A dry cough assaults my lungs, and I struggle to find words. The last time? She’s done this before? “Why are you doing this? Why am I here? I…” Tears well in my eyes. “I didn’t do anything to you. I—”
Toni's expression turns cold, her eyes locking onto mine as contempt and anger radiate from her skin. Her voice is sharp and unwavering as she states, "Emery Jones, you are not my enemy. You are just a means to a very desperate end."
What the hell is she talking about? What does that mean? "I don't understand," I stammer, trembling. “I don’t—”
Toni stands up from the computer chair and strides toward me, her posture confident and foreboding. "Have you read the news recently, Emery? Did you hear about the curious death of the snake, Vincent Wentz?"
Vincent? What the hell does he have to do with me? I nod meekly, the memory of the headlines fresh in my mind. "Yes, I'm familiar with it. It's been all over the news."
“Good. So you know who he is.” Toni's lips curl into a grim smile, but there's no warmth in it. "But did you know that Vincent Wentz was a murderer, Emery? Did you know that his selfish, disgusting actions were directly responsible for thousands of deaths?” I swallow, and she yells, “Did you?!”
I wince, shaking my head, my hands trembling, pain pulsing in the center of my chest. My meds. I don’t have my meds.
“Well, he is,” she spits, tone laced with venom. “When he purchased the patent for Diazenix, and then sold it for nine times the price, he became a murderer. He cared more about profits than people. He picked money over lives, Emery. He killed those who needed the medicine to survive."
My throat tightens, and a deep sense of unease settles over me. "What does Diazenix do?"
Toni's voice drips with righteous anger as she explains.
"Diazenix treats type one diabetes. It's a drug that keeps people alive.
My sister had type one diabetes, Emery. She depended on Diazenix to survive.
But when the price skyrocketed, we could not afford it anymore. She... She died because of it."
My heart aches, the pain and loss in Toni's voice almost too much to handle. I understand her pain. Her grief. Vincent Wentz was a pariah, a snake, but I never really knew the extent of how his actions had affected people like Toni and her sister. I swallow, peering up at her. It’s strange, inappropriate even, but empathy spreads through my chest.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, mouth dry. “I’m sorry that happened.”
But Toni doesn’t want my empathy. She doesn’t want my pity, my empty words of condolences.
She leans in closer to me, teeth clenched with unrelenting anger.
"I tried to get Vincent to do the right thing, to pay for his crimes, but he was too greedy, too scared to lose his fortune.” She hitches an emotionless shoulder. “And in the end, he lost his life."
“His life?” I suck in an inaudible breath. She killed him. She…
My fear deepens as Toni cocks her head. "Do you know who originally sold Vincent the patent? Who is equally responsible for the death of my sister and many more? Your dear Dr. Marquis. He is just as guilty, and so he will also pay."
I shake my head. No… She’s wrong. It’s not his fault. He wouldn’t purposely harm anyone. It’s not who he is. It’s not in his DNA. How was he supposed to know what Vincent would do? He’s not God. He couldn’t have known what Vincent would do.
“Don’t hurt him,” I croak, grabbing the center of my chest. “He’s not… Don’t hurt him. Please, don’t hurt him.”
Toni scoffs. “He is not the one chained to the ground right now, Emery Jones. His safety should not be your top priority.” She pauses, arching over and quietly whispering into my ear. “His greed on the other hand? That should be your main concern.”
My mind races as I process her spotty plan. "What do you want from me? What do you want from him?”
"It's simple.” She takes a step back, her unyielding gaze holding mine.
“There are families grieving, families who have lost everything just like my sister. Dr. Marquis deserves to lose it all too. He deserves to have nothing. Not a single fucking penny.” She glances at her computer screens.
“He has five days, Emery Jones. He has five days to wire me five billion dollars.”
My jaw drops, and I struggle to comprehend the staggering amount she's demanding. "Five billion dollars? That's..." I can't even finish my sentence. It's an astronomical sum.
Toni continues, unfazed, “That’s one million dollars for each of the five thousand families who have suffered because of his actions.
His lack of due fucking diligence. And if he doesn't pay.
.." Toni reaches around her waist, and I gasp as she pull out a pistol.
She points it directly at me. "Then you die. "
My heart hammers, a paralyzing fear gripping my bones.
Oh my God. It’s a joke. This has to be a fucking joke.
Five billion dollars? She wants Quinton to hand over five billion dollars in exchange for my life?
I want to burst out in laughter. I am not worth five billion dollars.
Not after the way I treated Quin. Not after cowardice won.
Toni thinks she’s a mastermind, but little does she know that her dangerous game rests on rules that have not yet been established. Rules that have not been confirmed.
“The demand you're making is...impossible," I say, shaking. "Quinton and I... Our relationship is complicated. You can't just expect him to hand over that kind of money...for me."
Toni glowers at me, her finger still dangerously close to the trigger. "Trust me, Emery. He will find a way. He will make the sacrifice. And if he does not, well, I have ways to incentivize him."
“What do you mean by incentivize?” The question tumbles out as a terrified whimper.
"I have had my eye on Dr. Marquis for quite some time.
I know more about him than you might think, Emery.
" Toni sucks in a deep breath, squatting down beside me.
She glides the barrel of her pistol along my hand, veering off to my fingers.
“He has recently purchased a very large, very expensive diamond ring, Emery Jones. It would be so very devastating if he did not have a finger to place it.”
My breath hitches. “You’re lying…”
Him too? How is this happening?
Why?
Toni licks her lips, pinching my chin between her fingers, tilting my head up.
Her gaze sweeps across my bruised and bleeding face.
“You appear to have a special talent when it comes to attracting rich men, Emery Jones.” A wicked grin clips the corner of her mouth.
“Perhaps you are just as greedy as they are.” Her thumb grazes against my dry bottom lip.
“I can see the appeal, though. It hurt me quite deeply to ruin such a pretty face.” She gives me a tender pat on the cheek.
“Do not fear, bella, I believe you will heal…in time.”
Toni's touch lingers on my face, her words and actions filled with an unsettling blend of cruelty and mild fascination.
Suddenly, the door to the basement crashes open, bashing against the grimy basement wall. Another woman standing on the threshold; dark hair, bronze skin, a look that could kill.
“Playing with your food again, Toni?” she asks, her French accent melodic. “Do you never learn?”
Toni’s mouth curves up into mischievous smile, and she shoots me an apologetic glance before striding toward the woman.
“Do not be jealous, Simone,” Toni coos. My heart thumps as she gives Simone a passionate kiss. Their tongues swirl and dance, and then Toni pulls back and says loud enough for me to hear, “I do not plan to eat her anytime soon.”
I swallow hard as Toni’s cell phone rings.
She curses in Italian. “Watch her. I will be back.”
When Toni leaves the room, Simone steps closer, her piercing dark eyes fixed on mine. "Enjoy the next few days," she sneers. "Once the transfer is complete, there's no use for you anymore. We have no intention of keeping you alive to share this story."
My gaze briefly flicks to the door. The only exit. My pulse quickens, ears pounding with a dreadful realization. Quin can’t save me. Even if he pays, I will die.
I will die…
Resolve finds me so fast, it’s shocking. No. Absolutely fucking not. After everything I’ve been through? After everything I survived? To die in a basement? Alone? Chained to a fucking pole?
Not a goddamn chance.
Determination crests over me, sly and conniving. Quinton was right. I can’t change my circumstances. But I can fight. I can play the game.
Her game.
And I can fucking win.
Just watch me.