CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
STELLA
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Dad is acting strangely. One could hope it's guilt, but I doubt he’d suddenly grow a conscience. Mom’s nowhere to be seen, but then again, I’ve been dragged into his den by security.
“Christ. That was unnecessary.” I wriggle my arms. “Dad, did you tell them to handle me like that?”
“Sit,” Dad says, pointing to a chair.
I glance around at the security to glare at them and realize at least five of them are unfamiliar. That’s weird. Dad is very choosy when it comes to who guards him. I suppose they could be new now that his life is in more danger than normal.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, regardless. I’m on edge, understandably, so I push away the feeling and cross the room to the seat.
I sit.
I now regret letting them take my handbag when I walked in, as it has my cell phone. Usually, I keep it in my back pocket, but I’m wearing a dress that doesn’t have any.
Sacrilege, Charlotte would say. A dress without pockets.
I make a note to swing past her apartment on the way home to give her a hug. My last day of freedom.
Or I’m worried about nothing.
No, I’m not.
I’ll fight Tony to make sure I get to see my best friend. While in some ways I’ve made peace with all of this, I know I’ll need to find a way to survive my new life.
“Okay, so what did you want to see me about?”
He hasn’t yet sat, and I glance around me because the energy in the room feels charged.
“I’m sorry about this, Stella.” Dad nods to someone over my shoulder, and I do a double take as a guard opens the door and five more shuffle in.
“What—”
It’s like evil seeps inside, and I shudder as the man I must marry steps into the room with a confident and horrifying smirk.
“Hello, Stella,” Tony says.
“Stella, it’s best—”
“What’s going on?” I shuffle in the chair, but my arms are gripped from behind again, and I’m pulled to my feet. “No! No. What are you doing? Let me go!”
“Take her.” Tony demands. “Voss, say your goodbyes. I’m taking your daughter, and you can consider our debt cleared.”
My eyes fly to Dad, who has the grace to look away. He presses his fingers into his desk and turns to Tony. “Thank you.”
“Dad!” I scream as my arms are pulled behind my back. I kick and toss my body around, but the men are too strong. “Dad! Help me!”
Tony grips my face painfully. “Stop fighting.”
I spit at him. Which, I guess, isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
I pant as he slowly pulls a handkerchief out of his top pocket and wipes saliva off his face. Darkness rages in his eyes.
Oh, shit.
“Do that again and I’ll inject you with a drug rendering you unconscious,” he snarls.
“You can’t do that. This is America. This is kidnapping. Tell them to let me go! Dad!” I glance at him, but he’s sat down at his desk now and refuses to meet my eye.
Tony orders his security to carry me out, and with my feet barely touching the floor, I continue screaming.
“Dad!”
“Muffle her,” Tony instructs, and material is shoved in my mouth.
No.
This can’t be happening.
Declan.
Declan, help me!