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Lydia’s features twisted into a smirk.
Julia grinned back at her. “Two ladies who have been treated badly by Grant Harrington coming together to destroy him. What do you say?”
Lydia’s features melted from a smile to an angry frown. “I say it’s all bull. You didn’t sleep with Dr. Jekyll. No way. You don’t hate Grant. You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Julia answered, trying to swing the situation back her way.
“You are.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “My heavens, it’s so obvious you love him, it’s sickening. You’re a terrible liar. You nearly choked on the words about cheating. You didn’t do anything with lover boy outside of those kisses, and I’m fairly certain he initiated those. I’m a woman, Julia. I can read the looks, and you were not interested in the good doctor.”
Julia gritted her teeth, her hands curling into fists. She needed a plan, and fast. Should she keep insisting she had cheated on Grant or switch? “Okay, fine. I didn’t. But…”
“But what?” Lydia asked.
“I could still help you. If only out of self-preservation–”
“Ohh, you will still help me, sweetness. But probably not the way you hoped. Morrison…” Lydia waved the gun in the air between the man and Julia.
Another man grabbed her from behind as Morrison yanked her wrists forward and zip-tied them. She winced as the plastic dug into her skin.
“Take her into the bedroom and wait for my signal,” Lydia ordered.
Morrison grabbed Julia and roughly dragged her across the room into a bedroom. He tossed her forward, and she stumbled a few steps before colliding with the bed.
She pushed herself onto her back and sat up, shifting her wrists back and forth as she tried to wiggle out of the ties.
Her heart pounded, and her stomach twisted into a knot. How had this happened? She’d gone from destroying Lydia’s leverage to becoming it. She hadn’t banked on Lydia being that unhinged, but apparently, her plans to destroy Grant were the only thing she could see.
Julia scanned the space as her mind worked to find an escape. Even if she could make it through the door, Lydia and two other bodyguards stood in her way. She’d never make it to the hall, let alone the elevators.
Her eyes fell on a sliding door to a balcony. But on the thirtieth floor, it was useless to her. With bound hands in a ball gown, she’d never be able to maneuver. She’d fall to her death first.
She fixed her gaze on the man who accompanied her as he settled into the armchair across the room. He smirked, his dark eyes boring into her.
“Morrison, was it?” she asked with a shaky voice.
“What’s it to you?”
“Just wanted to know the name of the man pointing a gun at me,” she answered. She recalled during hostage situations her sister had managed that talking to the captor could help prevent tragedy. She swallowed hard as she flicked her gaze sideways to him again. “So, do you have a family?”
“Don’t try to get cute with me. I’m not going to have a conversation with you, then start to feel bad, and let you go.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” Julia claimed. “I just…am trying to pass the time.”
“I’ve got the perfect way to do that,” he answered. The gun slid forward as he leaned closer to her.
She froze, her features registering the panic building in her. They relaxed slightly when he snatched the remote from the table and flicked on the television.
“There we go. Perfect.”
“But–”
Her words cut off as he cranked the volume on the football game a little higher. She let her shoulders slump as she realized that option was out.
She eyed Morrison, searching for any hint of humanity as she drummed her fingertips against each other. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she announced after a few moments.
“Hold it.”
“I can’t. I had a lot to drink. And I really have to go.”
