Chapter Fifty-Two
Irvin
I wake up with a headache. I look around, and the room is a bit fuzzy. The half-moon peeks through the curtains.
My princess.
My heart hammers in my chest. Panic seizes me. I get up from the bed.
All of her things are gone. Her side of the closet is empty.
She left me.
She actually left me.
What the fuck?!
I grab the bat, leaning against the wall. I smash the TV, the nightstand, the minibar.
How could she do this to me? She promised me she wouldn’t leave me, yet she just did!
I love her. Can’t breathe without her.
My stomach drops.
I hyperventilate.
Fear burns beneath my skin. How can I live without her? I can’t live without my Lilac. How the fuck was she able to drug me, and I didn’t see it coming? That’s low—even for her. She’s slipping away from me, and I can’t have that.
I grab my phone from my pocket and check her location, but it says she’s here, which can’t be right. I call her, and her phone lights up from across the room.
She knows I’m tracking her phone.
Good thing I have GPS on all my vehicles just in case they ever get stolen.
I pull up the tracker on the white Mustang, and I see she’s at a hotel two towns over.
Fuck.
I’ll handle her when I get my hands on her. I should have trusted myself and done what I was supposed to do at our wedding by completing the full ritual of our marriage, but my lawyer told me Lilac would grow suspicious.
I dial my doctor, Lena. She’s the family doctor for the American Billionaire Club. She picks up on the first ring.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Ashford?” Sleepiness coats her tone.
“I need that shot you put in all the American Billionaire Club wives.”
She laughs nervously. “You said you didn’t need one.”
“I changed my mind. Bring it here. I need to give it to my wife.”
“When do you need it?”
“Now.”
I tap the End Call button and change into clean clothes.
Once Dr. Lena drops off the drug, I zoom through traffic and drive all the way to South Haven. She didn’t get far, and I was only out for eight hours. She hasn’t moved since I last checked her location. It’s the middle of the night right now, so she probably stopped and slept.
I grip the steering wheel until my hands hurt.
When I reach the hotel, I go straight to the front desk. A thousand dollars later, they tell me what room she’s in.
I open the door, and the lights are off except for the bathroom. Relief floods me. At least she’s safe. I watch my princess sleep. She looks so peaceful. She really thinks she’s going to get away from me. My heart aches thinking about what she did. How can she just leave me? My one and only.
I don’t know why I didn’t think to do this in the first place. She’ll never escape me again.
I tap her shoulder, and she rolls over. I tap her again. She startles awake, her eyes landing on me.
She scrambles to the other side of the bed.
“Hey, my princess. You didn’t think I would find you?”
Her eyes widen in terror, and tears gloss her eyes.
“Oh, no need to cry, my love. You did this to yourself.”
“How did you find me?”
I smile. “I have a tracker on all my cars, my love. But you’re going to learn you can’t ever escape me.”
I pull the syringe from my back pocket, and she tries to push past me toward the door. I grab her and gently slam her onto the bed face down.
“Please don’t drug me. I’m sorry, Irvin.”
I kiss her ass before sliding the needle deep into her cheek.
“Don’t you know how scared I was of losing you?” I pause. “I’m not drugging you. I’m putting a tracking device inside of you.”
She screams at the top of her lungs. “NO! PLEASE! IRVIN!”
She rolls over and kicks, slaps, and pushes, fighting me. I grab her wrists, pin her arms to her body, and hold her there. She sobs uncontrollably. I kiss her forehead.
“Now you’ll never leave me.”
She eventually calms, but I don’t miss the look on her face—the shock, the defeat. I don’t care. She’s never leaving me again.
We sit in silence. She stares at me with hate in her eyes. I stroke her cheek, and she slaps my hand away.
“I told you how far I would go to keep you.” I pause.
“I manipulated you. Made you obsessed with me, just as much as I am with you. It was all part of my plan. That’s why I ignored you when you gave me head in the library.
Why I pulled away. I wanted to see how you’d respond.
Tricking you into this marriage was only the beginning.
I had to get you obsessed so you’d fall in love with me. ”
She smacks me across the face, and it stings. I’m not going to lie, I deserved that one.
“I’ll never love you! I hate you, Irvin!”
It’s cute she thinks I believe she hates me. If she hated me so much, she wouldn’t go to great lengths to run away from me. She’s not running from me; she’s running from her emotions.
“I let you think you were in control. I let you think you had freedom. But you don’t handle freedom well. I tried to be nice. Now we’re doing things my way.”
“Are you going to punish me for drugging you?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. But I made it so you can never leave me again.”
We sit quietly, the only sound her labored breathing, the warm air blowing through the room.
“I told you I would go far to keep you.” I pause. “Remember when we made our vows on our wedding day? I told you that you didn’t know how long I waited for that moment—to put that ring on your finger. I meant it.”
“If you’re asking for forgiveness for trapping me in this god-awful marriage, you’ll never get it.”
I stroke my knuckles across her cheek. “My princess, you should know me well enough to know I don’t care about forgiveness. I’m telling you this so you can see how far my obsession goes when you try to leave me.”
She cries harder, and I stroke her hair.
“I know who you are, Paige Colson.”
Her eyes widen. She freezes. “W-what did you say?”
“I know who you are. You’re Paige Colson.”
Her hands shake like leaves, but she straightens her spine. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“I have a surveillance app on your phone that shows me your messages, phone calls, and all activity. You reached out to Ambrose Kingsley about your foster brother. About a locket. Emerson went to prison and was executed for what he did to your mother and father. I know who you are. You had a romantic relationship with him in high school. You’re from Buckhead, Georgia. ”
She cries silently as I talk. “You’re not supposed to know.”
“You hid it this entire time,” I say.
“When did you find out?” she whispers through tears.
“I found out the night Ally sent you the message. She sent me the same one, asking about your identity. I never responded, but I hoped you would tell me yourself.” A pause. “You left because you were ashamed. Because you blamed yourself for what happened. You thought it was your fault.”
She sobs in my arms, and I let her.