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Ralph picks me up in Ben’s Bentley and takes me straight to the Four Seasons. I tried to at least look the part in some tailored black trousers with a soft cream blouse. And my hair is pinned neatly, with a light coating of makeup. He drops me at the door, telling me he will wait around the corner in the VIP parking lot, which eases my nerves somewhat. I keep my head high as I walk in and greet the hostess of the restaurant, who must recognize me immediately because with just a simple nod, she takes me toward the back to where Mrs. Rothschild must be sitting. My nerves start dancing in my stomach again as I glance around the room, even though I keep my head high and my stride strong.
As we veer around the back corner, we enter a private room. Of course she would have a private room, I think to myself. The woman practically bleeds money; she probably has someone to follow her around to wipe her mouth after she eats too.
“Emily, so glad you could come.” The way she greets me is in complete contrast to what she sounded like on Saturday. There is no venom, no anger, and my eyes widen as I see her with her arms open, welcoming me like a perfect host.
“Mrs. Rothschild. Good to see you,” I say, taking a few steps toward her before I stop dead in my tracks. I barely register that the hostess has left and closed the door to the room behind her as my blood turns cold. Sitting at the table with Mrs. Rothschild is Mr. Beasley, looking like a pig in mud, and next to him is Jeremy. His eyes are molten as he glares up at me, not doing anything to hide the fact that they run up and down my body.
“Wh—what is going on?” I am now stuck halfway between the door and the table, Mrs. Rothschild looking at me with a changing expression of ill intentions.
“Well, dear, I am very close friends with both Mr. Beasley and Mr. Lucas, and we all had a rather interesting conversation at the gala on the weekend. Imagine my surprise when both these prominent businessmen seemed to know a lot more about you than I did, even though you are prancing around the city on my son’s arm. So I invited them along today as well. It appears that all three of us have a need to chat with you." Her smile doesn’t waver, but I can now see the evil in it. How could a woman be so horrible? Sure, she may not know about my history with Jeremy, but she knows who Mr. Beasley is and how we are connected. She has set me up.
If Ben knew about this, he wouldn’t be happy.
“I don’t think this is a good idea. Let me call Ben, and…” I start to pull at my bag to grab my cell.
“Stop!” Jeremy barks, and my body jolts, listening to him immediately. His voice vibrates around my body, our history enough to make me stand at attention. I am too scared to move as my eyes flick between them all.
“You see, my dear, Benjamin is not destined to be married to someone so…” Mrs. Rothschild says, looking at me up and down before she continues. “Suburban.” She purses her lips, seemingly happy that she found the right description.
“Sasha is someone who is much more his speed, don’t you think so, darling?” I am about to answer when I hear another voice.
“Of course, Diane. I am much more aligned to Ben’s needs,” Sasha’s voice purrs from behind me, and I watch her strut in from the side of the room like she is walking a catwalk, until she is standing right next to me on the left. Her eyes run down my body and fixate on the diamond sitting on my finger. She reaches out and grabs my hand, her grip so hard, I feel like my bones will break as she pries the diamond off my finger, quickly slipping it on her own. This woman is deranged.
“Well then. I guess that is settled. You, Miss Carr, are no longer Benjamin’s fiancée; that role is for Sasha to fill. Mr. Beasley, you had something you wanted to say?” Mrs. Rothschild says, turning to the fat man who is sitting and looking at his watch like he has to be somewhere else.
“I am taking the school, Miss Carr. If I don’t get the school, I will no longer be a client of the Rothschild Law Firm, and I will move all my business directly to their competitor. I know I don’t need to tell you that a move such as that will have a massive hit to Ben’s bottom line, not to mention it will severely impact his reputation, having lost a major account within months of his brother's departure as CEO,” Beasley says, standing, and I feel like I am going to faint.
“What?” I am struggling to keep up. If I want Ben to succeed in his position, I need to give him the school? That is blackmail. Of course I want Ben to succeed in his role as CEO. But even though the school may be flooded, it is not entirely out of the woods yet.
“I don’t understand…” I say, looking at them all for more answers. I feel so small right now, so helpless. I’m not a woman who cowers, but right now, I don’t even know who I am.
“Of course you don't, you stupid girl,” Mrs. Rothschild mutters like I am frustrating her.
“Emily. It’s time we went home. Your little parade in the city is now over. You are mine, will always be mine, and won't ever be coming into the city again,” Jeremy says, standing and buttoning up his business jacket like he is finishing a meeting.
“I am not going anywhere with you.” Taking a step back, my eyes stay firmly on him.
“I need to run. I will have Ben call a meeting, and Jeremy here has promised to get George to sign those forms this afternoon. Jeremy, I trust that you have this in hand,” Beasley says, and Jeremy nods. What the hell are they talking about?
“Good to see you, Diane. I hope lunch next time is over more pleasant business dealings,” he says, giving me a filthy look, followed by a smirk before he walks out the door, closing it behind him.
“She is all yours, Jeremy. I have organized those photos to be sent to Ben now. My friend did an excellent job of photoshopping them,” Sasha says as she strides over to Jeremy and places a kiss to his cheek, giving me a wink. I feel my body wanting to lurch forward and empty the contents of my breakfast.
“What photos?” I ask tentatively, taking the bait.
“Oh, Jeremy and I got a little busy yesterday. While you and I don’t look the same, my friend can manipulate photos extremely well. Ben will get a nice set of Polaroids this afternoon, of whom he thinks is you having unbelievable sex with Jeremy here," Sasha says, smiling. At that, I’m completely at a loss. What have they done?
“Come along, dear, we need to get wedding planning.” Mrs. Rothschild grins at Sasha as they both follow Beasley through the door, it again closing solidly behind them.
I am left watching Jeremy like he is about to pounce. He stands tall, too confident, his hands in his pockets like he is in full control. My heart is thumping in my chest as I wonder how I can get out of this situation. A cloak of confusion drapes over me, my mind racing to try to sort out what exactly is going on.
I glance at the door behind me. I could make it out to the restaurant. He can’t do anything to me out there. I would just need to run and scream and I could probably reach Ralph… But then Beasley will take his business from the law firm and Ben will take a hit. A very public hit. Everyone out in that restaurant now knows exactly who I am, and while I don’t care if I come off crazy, I know the reputational damage to Ben will be more significant. I can’t do that to him. He loves his work, and he loves his family.
But I need to think of Rosie, and I need to get to safety.
My hands grip my handbag, and I make a run for the door, but Jeremy is just as quick. I open the door at the same time his palm slams it shut, and he pushes me against it.
“Now, now, Emily, that is no way to treat me. After all I have done for you. We are going home via the private back door. I have my car waiting, and then I am going to take you to your god-awful apartment to get George, because he needs to sign these fucking papers. Then I need to ensure you know exactly who you belong to, and I want your little disabled offspring to hear it too,” he says, making an appalling reference to Rosie before he pushes his hips into my back, and I feel him already hard. I vomit a little in my mouth as he licks up my neck.
