Chapter 2
2
HARPER
“A re you okay?” I ask, my throat tightening with worry.
His lip is swollen and busted from the chaos earlier, and there’s a dark bruise forming under his left eye. Every time I look at him, my heart sinks, and guilt curls inside me like a strand of wire with razor-sharp barbs. I’d thought tonight would play out differently than it did.
“Yeah, baby girl. I’m so much better now.” His soothing tone usually calms me, but tonight, it feels off.
As Micah drives us away from New York City, like he’s running from his demons, he interlocks our fingers, then presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. My mind is a jumbled mess, and there is a thick fog that just won’t clear. I feel nothing but confused, so I try to replay the events to figure out where it all went wrong.
The evening had started out perfectly. The garden behind Asher’s place was full of spring flowers. Their scent mixed with laughter and the soft glow of the city at night. I was buzzing with excitement as Micah and I shared our engagement news. But Billie’s reaction wasn’t what I’d expected. Her crystal-blue eyes—which are usually so bright for me—dimmed, replaced by something unreadable and almost dark.
“She’s just jealous,” Micah says now, squeezing my hand, as if he can read my thoughts. His voice is soft and patient, but he grips the steering wheel with his other hand very tightly. It’s the micro anger I start to notice. “I’m really sorry. I wanted tonight to go differently for you, Harper. I know how much it meant to you to tell her.”
The scene plays back in my mind—Billie’s shocked face and Asher’s bloodied knuckles from hitting Micah. Everything feels … wrong .
It hurts, knowing Billie wasn’t happy for me, wasn’t happy for us, but I can’t pinpoint why.
We’ve been inseparable since we were five years old. Our lives are intertwined in every way that matters, both personally and professionally. Losing her support feels like losing a part of myself, and the ache gets worse with each mile marker we pass.
“I’m so sorry, Harper,” Micah says again, glancing at me with those reassuring green eyes.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, even though it isn’t. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry too. I should’ve listened to you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he insists, his thumb tracing little circles on the back of my hand. “You can’t control how she reacts. That’s on her, not you.”
Billie and I have always navigated life’s ups and downs together, understanding each other in ways no one else could. No one else can . Until tonight, she’d always been my ride or die.
“Please tell me what happened,” I say, feeling my stomach twist as I picture Asher unleashing on Micah while Billie stood frozen and watched. “I can’t put the pieces together.”
Because I don’t have all the information.
Micah’s jaw tightens, and I see something dark flicker across his face. “Only if you promise you won’t be upset.”
“I promise,” I say quickly, desperate for answers.
He hesitates. “Are you sure you want to talk about this now? We can discuss it tomorrow, when emotions aren’t so high.”
I’m growing more frustrated.
“I won’t be able to sleep until I know the truth,” I say.
He seems to enjoy making me wait, and the silence drags on for an eternity. I really hate the uncertainty that grips me so tight that I can barely breathe. My anxiety is at an all-time high, and I try to take deep breaths in and out before I spiral.
He inhales sharply. “I wanted her blessing for our marriage. I asked if she’d be your maid of honor when we eloped. I told her I wanted to marry you soon, and she flipped out, got angry, and grabbed my cock. Then Asher barged in, saw her hand on me, us standing close, and lost it, like a jealous boyfriend. He wouldn’t listen and attacked me because of her . You saw the rest.”
“Billie touched you?” My voice sounds far away, even to me.
My heart drops, disbelief hitting me hard. This isn’t something my best friend would do, especially after what she’s been through.
Nothing about tonight feels safe. Not even now.
His eyes flicker, like he’s remembering something painful. “She came onto me, Harper. She touched me inappropriately and said she wanted me for herself, that she couldn’t stand us being together. I can’t be around her,” he says, looking at me earnestly. “Do you believe me?”
Doubt creeps in. I want to trust Micah. He’s been nothing but kind and a steady part of my life for the past eight weeks. His jaw tightens, so I quickly answer.
“Of course I believe you,” I whisper.
“Then why did you hesitate?” he directly asks, and I don’t like his tone.
“I just … I find it difficult to comprehend.” I shake my head slowly, confusion still clouding my thoughts.
She’s always crushed on Asher, even when she said she wasn’t, even when she gave him hell. We all saw it—everyone did but her. Billie making a move on Micah doesn’t make any sense, and it’s hard for me to believe. I don’t question much he says, but when it comes to my best and most loyal friend, alarm bells sound.
One time, Billie dropped everything just to comfort me after a shitty breakup with a mediocre man. She skipped vacations and important plans to be there for me when I was upset. I feel uncomfortably wedged between being loyal to her and this guy I’ve fallen head over heels for, the one I’m supposed to marry.
I glance down at the engagement ring that still feels foreign on my finger. It’s big and gaudy, and I just always imagined having my mother’s ring.
“I wish I knew why she acted that way,” Micah says. “I should’ve let you talk to her first, but I know how much this wedding means to you—means to us. You’re the missing piece of my puzzle, Harper. I can’t imagine life without you.”
His words wrap around me, and I search for comfort in them.
I lean into his hand as he cups my cheek. “I want you two to get along. She’s been my best friend for twenty-seven years.”
“I can’t,” he says.
We drive down the dark streets, and the silence makes my anxiety worse. Billie’s frantic face pops into my mind. Micah’s thumb strokes my palm, but it doesn’t do much to calm me.
“What if I tried for you?” Micah asks.
“That would be amazing,” I reply.
“I love you. Anything for you,” he whispers.
A mix of hope and uncertainty fills my heart.
“I want the absolute best for our future.”
“I love you too,” I say, but I ask myself if that’s true.
Do I love Micah Rhodes? Or do I love the thought of not dying alone in my penthouse with fifteen cats?
As we settle into the quiet, Micah reaches over and turns on the radio. Soft music fills the car, and I take a deep breath, trying to untangle the knotted thoughts in my mind.
My phone vibrates, breaking my fragile calm. I hesitate, my hands shaking as I check my messages.
Billie
YOU’RE IN DANGER! WAKE THE FUCK UP!
My heart races as a chill runs down my spine. Panic washes over me. Billie’s blunt warning is so sharp that it cuts deep. I quickly delete the message, anxiety flooding through me as I switch off my phone. My chest tightens, and I struggle to breathe as I give Micah a weak smile.
“Everything okay?” he asks, watching me closely.
“Just a spam message,” I lie smoothly. A lie. Why do I even have to lie right now?
His gaze lingers on me for a moment too long before he turns back to the road.
“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay?” Micah’s voice is more stern this time.
“Of course, babe.” I smile, but it feels forced. “Just tired after everything. Happy to be spending some alone time with you.”
Right now, I don’t feel like I know the man sitting next to me. After seeing Billie’s expression, followed by her text, I’ve been jolted awake.
“You’re such a good girl, Harper.” His voice softens, almost easing the panic in my heart. “The best girl. Just close your eyes and relax.”
Micah’s grip on my hand tightens, and the possessiveness feels unsettling. My mind fills with confusion and dread as I do what he said. I lean back and see Billie’s message burned behind my eyelids.
“Micah,” I say, needing to know more, “when you said you wanted to marry me soon, how soon are we talking?”
His eyes light up with real happiness. “This upcoming week.”
Shock hits me like a wave. “This week?”
He nods calmly, his gaze both gentle and serious. “I’m forty-four, Harper. I’m not getting any younger. Unless you’re having second thoughts …”
“No,” I reply quickly, seeing a glimpse of a monster behind his eyes.
YOU’RE IN DANGER! lingers in my mind like a ghost.
“Good. We’re on the same page then,” he says, relief softening his tone. “Now, get some rest, baby girl. We’ll be home in a few hours.”
Home.
The word feels as foreign as the ring on my finger.
I close my eyes like he instructed, but sleep feels miles away.
Billie thinks I’m in danger. Her warning echoes in my mind as I sink deeper into darkness. WAKE THE FUCK UP!
* * *
The soft thud of the car door closing wakes me from a restless sleep. My eyelids flutter open, heavy with fatigue. Through the windshield, the headlights shine on a grand two-story mansion that looks impressive but also eerie under the pale moonlight.
My door swings open, and Micah stands there, smiling.
“We’re here,” he says, reaching his hand out to me. The other one is effortlessly holding our duffel bags.
I packed a few things quickly, mainly just the essentials, since he promised we wouldn’t be going out.
“This place is amazing,” I say, totally taken in by the architecture. Then I freak out when I realize I don’t have my phone. I quickly swing the car door open wider and bend down to check the floorboard.
“Looking for something?” Micah asks.
“My phone,” I reply, my voice tense.
“I’ve got it,” he says casually. “This week, we’re focusing on our wedding with no distractions. I turned mine off too.”
An uncomfortable feeling washes over me, tightening my chest. “May I please have it back?”
“No,” he replies, still smiling, but now there’s a hint of control in his tone.
The moonlight casts shadows on his face, highlighting the unsettling determination in his jaw. “You’ll get it when we head back to the city. You’ll thank me later.”
A tense silence hangs between us, and I don’t know what to say. My phone is my only contact with the outside world.
“Okay,” I finally say. He won’t budge.
I follow him toward the mansion. With every step up the grand staircase leading to the entrance, I feel more and more disconnected from the real world—my safe world.
He unlocks the heavy front door and pushes it open effortlessly. We enter, and as beautiful as it is, the mansion feels like an isolated fortress. It’s only then I realize I have no clue where I am. The entryway lights flicker on, revealing a gorgeous staircase that spirals upward toward the second floor.
“Wow,” I whisper, my voice echoing in the spacious foyer as I take in the elegant archways and high ceilings.
Every step forward only highlights the mansion’s cold emptiness.
“I designed this place myself,” he says proudly, watching me closely. “Pretty cool, right? Just like I imagined it.”
“It’s incredible,” I agree, feeling oddly small, standing inside his creation.
“And to think, you’re marrying someone so fucking talented,” Micah adds playfully, giving me a flirtatious wink.
I manage a soft laugh, though it doesn’t quite reach my heart.
He leads me up the stairs, guiding me by the small of my back down the hallway.
He opens the door to the bedroom and sets our bags down as he turns on the recessed lighting. A huge balcony outside the glass sliding doors overlooks the sea that sparkles in the moonlight, but it feels strangely distant.
Am I in the Hamptons?
A huge four-poster bed takes center stage in the room. It’s decked out with soft linens and surrounded by shiny oak furniture. Hanging above the bed is an abstract painting with strokes of bright blues, yellows, and reds, which feels too vibrant for my mood.
“Do you like it here so far?” Micah asks, stepping closer, his voice hopeful. “I think it’ll be perfect for our little getaway. After we’re married, maybe we can take full residence here.”
I nod, and he takes a step toward me. I notice how he holds my waist and the way his fingers grip me roughly.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, though my voice wavers. My eyes catch the bruise under his eye—a reminder of what happened earlier. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“I know,” he says as he breaks away from me and opens a drawer. He drops our phones inside, locking it with purpose, and then he tucks the key into his pocket. “No distractions,” he says smoothly, staring at me. “No outside world.”
I somehow manage to speak. “Of course.”
A reassuring smile spreads across his face as he pulls me into his arms. His hug is warm, but there’s something boiling underneath that I can’t shake off.
His mouth crashes against mine, and it’s unsettling.
“After all this time, my dreams are coming true,” he whispers against my lips, his breath mingling with mine.
His words hit me harder than I expected, and so does the nagging feeling.
Micah’s lips move to my neck, and his hands tangle in my hair. I know where this is headed, and I’m not feeling it.
“I’d prefer not,” I say.
“Oh, come on. It’ll make you feel better,” he suggests. “An orgasm always does.”
“No.” I shoot him a glare. It’s a complete sentence.
“Fine,” he says, getting snippy.
I refuse to feel pressured into having sex with anyone. No means no.
“Thanks for understanding. I’m just exhausted.”
The truth is, I’m still upset about what happened earlier.
He steps closer and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry. Just get some rest, baby girl. We’ve got a big week ahead of us, spending every minute together.”
I crawl under the blankets and pretend to fall asleep right away, but I stay wide awake in my head for what feels like hours. This is starting to feel like a weird nightmare that I woke up in the middle of, and nothing adds up. It takes all my willpower not to freak out.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up to an empty bed, exhausted. For a second, I’m totally disoriented, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. Panic flutters in my chest until reality kicks back in. The memories of last night’s tension linger at the edges of my mind, softened by the gentle morning light coming through the sheer curtains.
I sit up, let out a slow breath, and look toward the balcony. Beyond it, the calm sea stretches out, with boats lazily drifting on the water. It’s beautiful, but I have no idea where I am.
I stretch, shaking off the lingering discomfort, and head into the bathroom. The white marble feels nice under my bare feet, and the golden fixtures are cold against my fingers. The room is fancy, definitely my style, but it feels too sterile and fabricated. There’s an emptiness in this house that I can’t shake as I go through my morning routine.
Everything is impersonal, like a set that was put together just for me.
Once I’m dressed, I head downstairs, searching for Micah. My eyes scan over the paintings on the wall, and I don’t like them. I spot Micah on the back porch, his dark hair a mess, and he looks relaxed. Muscles ripple down his back, and I never realized how clean-cut he was. He’s not normally the type I would date.
I usually go for the rough-around-the-edges, tattooed-bad-boy type. The ones my mom always warned me about when I was a little girl.
A faint smile creeps onto my face as I watch him through the window, admiring his confident stance. As if he senses me, Micah turns around, and his green eyes light up when he sees me. He waves me over, and I notice he’s on his phone, like the rules don’t apply to him. I instantly grow frustrated.
I step onto the porch, joining him.
Micah pulls me close with one arm as he continues his conversation. “We can talk about this later. My fiancée just showed up. Absolutely. Bye.”
As he hangs up, the screen of his phone lights up for a second with a text, and I can’t help but glance at it. I thought I saw a woman’s name, and curiosity eats at me. He puts it away before I can see anything more.
“Good morning, baby girl. How’d you sleep?” he asks, kissing my forehead.
“Great actually,” I reply with a lie, taking in the fresh morning air and trying to shake off my worries. “I’m starving.”
“Perfect. I made a brunch reservation in town. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“I don’t know if I have clothes that are public-worthy. I packed fast. Can we have it delivered instead?”
“It’s just brunch, Harp. My God. I’m sure no one here will even recognize you,” he encourages, but he lied to me, leaving me unprepared to be seen.
I run a fashion company; I have to be camera ready at all times. I have an image that I must uphold for Bellamore, for Billie, and myself.
“Okay,” I say as I turn to go inside, trying to remember what I stuffed into my bag.
His hand reaches out, grabbing me playfully yet firmly as he pulls me back to him. Our lips crash together and the intimacy of it surprises me.
I cover my brief discomfort with a teasing tone. “Also, I thought you said no cell phones.”
“It was an emergency,” he says smoothly, pulling it from his pocket and holding it out. “You can have mine since I have yours.”
I hesitate, looking at the phone in his hand. A text reminder from Blaire Bowers flashes on the screen and I look back up into his eyes.
“Go one,” he says, but something about his offer feels like a threat, like he’s testing me. I choose the safe answer, protecting myself however I can.
“I trust you, my love,” I say giving him a smile, knowing I need to change the subject. “Now back to brunch talk. Is this place casual or fancy? Trying to figure out what I should wear today.”
“Nothing.” His eyebrows rise as he steals another kiss. “But it’s a somewhat-busy spot in town. Don’t want the locals seeing too much of you.”
“Give me ten minutes,” I tell him. “Can’t wait.”
He gives me another kiss, and this time, I successfully pull away from him.
I climb the stairs and head into the bedroom, setting my weekend bag on the bed. I pull out a sundress from our spring line and slip it on, smoothing out the wrinkled fabric. I pause for a second and glance over at the nightstand drawer. My curiosity gets the best of me, so I tug on it. Locked.
I want to text Billie. I want to ask her what happened. The fact that Micah took my phone has me panicked. He’s isolated me, and I have no idea where I am.
Downstairs, Micah’s waiting for me, looking relaxed and totally unaware of my racing heart. He takes my hand and leads me outside to the car. The mid-morning sunshine feels amazing, wrapping everything in a warm glow. We drive along the coast, and the little town is buzzing with beachy blues and yellows as tourists stroll by. The next street is lined with cute boutiques, antique shops, and charming cafés. Even though I’m feeling off, the scene is super cute, and it helps distract me for a moment.
Micah smoothly parks in front of the restaurant and hops out to open my door. His sweet gesture makes me smile, easing some of my worries. To anyone watching, he’s the perfect man.
But is he?
Once we’re inside the restaurant, we move to the front counter, and he gives his name. Right away, the host’s eyes slide up and down Micah like he’s a snack. A pang of jealousy hits me when he shoots her a charming smile.
“I have a reservation for two. Would you and your daughter like a table or a booth?” she asks casually, her words stinging.
“Daughter?” I mutter, shocked and then annoyed.
I shoot Micah a look, expecting him to correct her.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says simply, not saying anything more.
He didn’t claim me. No man ever does.
She leads us to a booth by the window with a white linen tablecloth, and I watch Micah openly stare at her ass. I swallow hard, not wanting anyone I’m with to even look at another woman. I slide into the side where sunlight pours in. I glance outside, trying to figure out where we are while pretending to admire the view. This isn’t the Hamptons. I’ve never visited this town before.
As I glance down at the menu, I notice the address in the top corner.
I’m in Newport, Rhode Island, hours away from the city. I tense, realizing he’s taken away my phone and isolated me from everyone who cares about me. If I wanted help, I couldn’t get it.
How did I let this happen?