Page 14 of Entrapped
I stared at the empty space where it had been, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. He knew. He must have known I was in here before. The possibility of cameras in the office now seemed like a certainty. I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Colson wasn’t the type to overlook anything, especially not when it came to something as significant as the Shaw name. I had to find another way to get what I needed.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway snapped me out of my thoughts. I quickly dropped the sewing box and shut the closet door and turned, just as Vaughn stepped into the room. His eyes narrowed when he saw me, and a sneer twisted his lips.
“Josephine,” he drawled, his voice laced with bitterness. “What are you doing in here?”
I met his gaze, keeping my expression neutral despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Just returning something of Colson’s.”
His eyes flicked around the room then back to me, suspicion etched in every line of his face. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s my husband’s office. I’m allowed to be here.”
Vaughn’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, invading my personal space. “You think you’re clever, don’t you? But I seeright through you, Josephine. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with him.”
I held my ground, refusing to back down even as his presence suffocated the room. “And who do I belong with? You’re the one who’s been trying to undermine him at every turn.”
His expression darkened, and for a moment, I saw a flash of something raw and dangerous in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I do,” I shot back, my voice low and steady. “You hate that I’m with him, that he chose me before you could have me. You can’t stand it, can you?”
His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a painful grip. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? But you’re just another one of his toys, something he’ll grow tired of and discard.”
The venom in his voice stung, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Maybe. But at least I’m not the son he can barely tolerate.”
Vaughn’s grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. But then he released me abruptly, as if the very thought of touching me disgusted him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Josephine.”
“So are you. Don’t you have engagement arrangements to make with Serena.” I replied coolly, rubbing my wrist where his fingers had dug in.
He stared at me for a long moment, the tension between us thick and suffocating. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed out of the office, leaving me alone with the oppressive silence and the cold realization that I was running out of time.
The box was gone. The cameras were watching. And now, Vaughn was circling, more jealous and unstable than ever. I would have to be smarter. More careful. But I couldn’t let fear paralyze me. There was too much at stake, too much to lose if I failed. As I stood there, surrounded by the trappings of Colson’s wealth and power, I vowed that I would find another way.
I had to.
Because if I didn’t, I knew I would never escape the grasp of the Ashworths. And neither would the Shaw name. I had to unravel the truth, and I had a feeling it would tear us all apart when it was revealed.
Life had a way of settling into a routine, even in a gilded cage like mine. After that day in Colson’s office, the one where I’d discovered the empty space in the closet, nothing changed—at least on the surface. Colson didn’t mention a thing, never questioned me about why I was there or what I might have been looking for. But I knew he knew.
In private, Colson was warm, attentive even. His touches lingered longer than necessary, his kisses felt softer, and when we had sex, it was with a tenderness that almost made me believe he cared for me. Almost. But in public, it was like a switch flipped. The warmth evaporated, leaving behind the cold, calculating man who ruled the boardroom with an iron fist.
It was like living with two different people, and I was starting to hate both of them.
Today had been one of those days where the dichotomy of Colson Ashworth was on full display. We had a meeting in the morning, a simple briefing on some equity reports that I’d been tasked with reviewing. I’d spent hours combing through the figures, double-checking every line, making sure everything was perfect. Or so I thought.
“Josephine,” Colson’s voice cut through the room like a knife, drawing every eye to me. I looked up from my notes, meeting his cold gaze from across the table.
“Yes?”
“Would you care to explain why the figures in your report don’t add up?” His tone was icy, every word dripping with disappointment. I could feel the blood drain from my face as I scrambled to find the mistake, my fingers trembling as I flipped through the pages. All eyes were on me including Vaughn’s and Simone’s. Easton had recently joined the firm and looked at me with sympathy.
“I—I’m not sure,” I stammered, my heart racing. How had I missed something? I’d been so careful.
“Not sure?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Not sure is unacceptable. We don’t deal in uncertainty, Josephine. We deal in facts, in precision. I expect better from you.”
My cheeks burned with humiliation as the other staff members exchanged glances, some smug, others sympathetic. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never resurface. But I forced myself to keep my head up, to swallow the anger and embarrassment that clawed at my throat.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll fix it.”
“See that you do,” Colson snapped before turning his attention back to the meeting, effectively dismissing me. “Oh, and in the future, see that you double check your information before you hand it to me for presentation.”
