Chapter 1
Chapter One
Saylor
A Little Over Three Years Later
B iting wind slaps against my face as I browse the stands for a hot chocolate or coffee station. Visiting the Christmas markets in Amsterdam has been on my bucket list since my mom told me about them when I was a kid. The markets are incredible, and it’s a once-in-a-lifetime trip to celebrate my twenty-first birthday. I’ll be back in school for my actual birthday, so I had to settle for coming a little early, but I don’t mind. The atmosphere is unlike anything I’ve seen back in the States.
I remember the smile on my mom’s face when she explained the cozy stalls and how it felt like there was actual Christmas magic in the air. Having her here with me would be the only thing that could make this trip better.
Hell, I’d settle for any company at the moment.
Avery stayed back at the hotel to enjoy a late afternoon nap. Jet lag made it a tempting prospect, but I’ve been dreaming about this for years.
I wasn’t going to let a little lingering exhaustion stop me. It might be a bit lonely to not have anyone to take it all in with, but I’m never completely on my own.
My team of two personal security specialists dutifully follow me around the stalls as I pick up souvenirs for my dad, stepmom, and little brothers. I snap a few selfies of myself in the small booths and take my time browsing.
If I head back to the hotel too quickly, I’ll probably pass out with how jet-lagged I am. I doubt I’d wake up for quite some time. Avery and I have plans for tonight, so I’m doing everything in my power to keep myself awake.
Clubs aren’t normally my idea of fun, mostly because I’ve never wanted to deal with the hassle of listening to my dad and stepmom complain if someone catches a picture that paints me in a negative light. That’s the benefit of being on a completely different continent, though.
I’ve traveled all over the US, but this is my first real international trip. Some stuff went down my senior year of high school, and I briefly considered doing university in England, but the prospect of leaving the States was a little too overwhelming, and I backed out before I could even tour schools.
Being in the Netherlands is a whole different level of freedom to what I normally have, and I’m starting to regret not taking more chances and living more adventures.
Spinning around to head to the shop across the street, I face-plant into Anderson’s chest. He’s one of my bodyguards, and it’s a fitting reminder that I’m never truly free.
His massive gloved hands come to rest on my shoulders, and he laughs, giving me a reassuring pat. “Sorry, I was shopping over your shoulder.”
I smile and immediately step aside.
Anderson and Daniels are both handsome, always polite, and they’re alphas, but I learned my lesson the hard way.
I let myself get attached to my security team once, and I will never allow that to happen again.
My head shakes, and I pick up the pace to get to another stall.
I need something to distract me.
Thinking about Leo and Shaw hurts almost as much as thinking about my mom—which is ridiculous.
They didn’t owe me anything.
And they sure proved how little you meant to them .
One day, they were there, and the next, they were gone. They didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye, which might be due to whatever happened the night I presented. Even before the omega facility drugged me, I have no memories after getting to the house party that I was told Shaw forcibly carried me out of.
Thinking about that mess makes my stomach wobble.
Logically speaking, I know I was just a job to them, but to me, they were so much more.
My dad traveled frequently for work, meaning from age fourteen, I was home with only my tutor, the housekeeper, and the chef.
Once Leo and Shaw joined my team, we used to eat dinner together every night. They took me to volleyball and soccer practice my entire junior year.
And, yeah, I had a crush on them by the time my senior year rolled around, but for the two years before that, I was just grateful to have someone else to talk to in that giant house.
I made the mistake of considering them friends when I should have understood they were only there to collect a paycheck. They may have treated me decently, but assuming they would always be around was unrealistic.
I learned that lesson, though.
Now I treat my bodyguards as acquaintances or coworkers, and I fully understand that, one day, they might be reassigned and disappear without a word.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I scan the area as I stop dead in my tracks. It’s cold, but that reaction wasn’t from the wind. Several men stand by the entrance to one of the restaurants a little farther down the block, but none of them are looking at me.
Anderson and Daniels catch up, and I quickly shake off my discomfort.
This is a once-in-a-lifetime trip, and if they even get an inkling of trouble, they’ll pull the plug and force us to head back to the States before I can even blink.
* * *
Avery laughs, swiping mascara over her long dark lashes as she stares at me in the mirror of the club bathroom. “I told you it was going to be worth it to come out tonight.”
Smiling back, I run my hands down my dress.
I’m not sure my idea of fun is on par with hers, but sitting alone in the hotel room sounded a little pathetic, even for me. I’m most excited to visit the museums tomorrow and just walk down the street, studying the architecture and taking in the ambiance.
The drinking age here is eighteen, but back in the States, it’s twenty-one. Since this is my birthday trip, I figure I should have a little fun.
Once I return to the US, it’s back to living under the microscope. Having a dad who’s a well-known politician isn’t really all that glamorous. Anything and everything I do reflects on him.
I’m honestly shocked he didn’t put up more of a fight when I told him I wanted to come to Amsterdam with some friends from school.
Then again, he and my stepmother have been traveling lately in preparation for my younger brothers going to school in the fall. Once the boys start kindergarten, my stepmom will have no choice but to stay at home with them.
It’s kind of wild to have twin little brothers who are just beginning school when I’m already in college, but my dad legit started from scratch when my mom died.
“Come on.” Avery grabs my hand. “We still have time to find cute guys who don’t understand a word we say but are obsessed with our otherworldly beauty.”
“Right.” I laugh, letting her pull me toward the door to exit the ladies’ room.
This may very well be my only chance to find a random hookup in the Netherlands. If my security team was with me, they’d try to do a full background check before letting me leave with anyone, but I purposely fibbed and told them we were too tired to go out tonight. They’re jet-lagged, too, which probably helped.
The music is so loud that it seems to shake the floor as we head down the hallway and back to the dance floor.
I’ve never seen anything like the three-story building. Each area has its own ambiance and feel, but the bottom level is one massive dance floor with multiple bars lining the wall.
Avery laughs, looking at me over her shoulder. “This place is incredible.”
Incredibly loud?
Yeah, it is.
But I’m here to have fun, so I let her pull me along behind her.
* * *
I’m not sure where Avery disappeared to, but the crowd is so thick that it’s impossible to guess where I’ll find her.
It’s a battle just to make it to the edge of the dance floor, but the walkways aren’t any clearer.
Pulling out my phone, I text her to let her know I’m leaving. The rest of our group from school is coming in later this week, but I wish they were here already. That way, Avery would have someone to stay with her.
This place is too filled with people. My senses are overwhelmed, and if I don’t get out of here soon, it’ll lead to a panic attack. Swiveling my head, I do one last scan of the packed crowd. I still don’t see her, and my hands are starting to sweat.
It’s time for me to go .
I think I can find my way back to the hotel without calling my security team. They’ll give me hell if they realize I slipped out on their watch. That’s another reason to call it a night. They check on me every morning at three a.m.
I was way braver earlier, but the excitement of sneaking out has worn off, and reality is creeping back in. If I leave now, I think I can get back in time so they’ll never know this little excursion happened.
I cringe and breathe through my mouth to avoid the multitude of scents as I weave through bodies, but I get to the exit in one piece.
The cool night air hits my face as I step onto the sidewalk.
My eyes widen.
The line of people still waiting to get in is long. It must be true that clubs here operate way later than clubs in the States.
The bass from inside the building bumps loud enough to hear it as I make my way down the sidewalk, keeping my head on a swivel for any taxis that might be waiting around for clubgoers who are ready to call it a night. There are a few vehicles, but nothing like I’d expect to see back in the US.
Luckily, it’s a beautiful city, and it makes for a nice backdrop as I pull up directions on my phone. The map says to take a right at the next major intersection, and I make the turn. This area is less populated than the one just outside the club, but that’s not a bad thing. The farther away I get from the area with the clubs and bars, the quieter it becomes.
My bag bounces against my side as my phone tells me to take the next left.
There are a few cars and people around, but it’s almost eerily quiet when compared to a few streets ago. Cool air nips at my skin with the breeze that whips between the buildings, and I follow the streetlamps. It smells a lot fresher than the streets in the club district.
The hotel should be just a little farther on the right.
The hair on the back of my neck sticks straight up.
My head swivels, but the only people around appear to be a small group of men lingering in front of the doors to the hotel. Something inside me says to run, and I don’t have any clue why. However, if I’ve learned anything over the course of my lifetime, it’s to trust my instincts.
My eyes widen as the man in front steps forward, pointing directly at me. I’m pretty sure he’s one of the men I saw in the group at the Christmas market.
He calls out something in a language I don’t understand.
My heart races as I spin around.
I’m shaking so badly that my phone falls, bouncing against the concrete.
There’s only a split second to make the choice between bending to pick it up and running as fast as I can.
I stop, snag it, and take off.
Only, I can’t call my security team because the screen is busted to the point it won’t register my fingerprint. My heels bounce against the pavement as I try to dart straight across the upcoming intersection.
I’m only three steps off the sidewalk when one of the men catches a handful of my hair.
He speaks in a thick accent, yanking my back to his chest. I can’t understand a word he says, and he chuckles darkly, switching to English. “Running is useless, omega.”
His palm slaps over my mouth, but I attempt to scream, anyway. Only, something sharp stabs into my neck and the world goes dark.
* * *
The next time I wake, it’s a groggy experience that I can’t be sure isn’t a dream. I’m in the back of a van or SUV, and the men around me speak in that language I’m not familiar with.
My head throbs, and my stomach rolls, but I pray I don’t vomit.
I’m gagged.
That could lead to me choking to death.
Everything gets blurry, and extreme pain radiates in my skull.
I must pass out again because everything goes dark.
* * *
My ears pop, and I have the urge to stretch my jaw. The low whooshing sound and the tears that flood my eyes lead me to believe I’m on a plane.
I’ve never been a great flyer.
In fact, I’m terrible at it when small planes are involved.
I panic and get sick.
It’s why my dad and stepmom started leaving me home when they would go on campaign trips. I was barely a teenager, but they didn’t care. They left me with the maids and our live-in security because it was easier than bringing me with them.
My whole life, everyone has told me that my father loves me. They say it’s hard for him to be around me when I look just like my mother, but that isn’t my fault.
I can’t help that I remind him of her.
It would be nice to have my only living parent actually make an effort to be in my life, but I can understand that he’s grieving too. Or I would if he hadn’t remarried within a year after my mom died.
That woozy feeling hits hard, and everything goes dark once more.