Page 15 of Entrapped
I ground my teeth, clenching my fists in my lap. “Yes, sir.”
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, my mind too clouded with shame to focus on anything else. As soon as it was over, I gathered my things and made a beeline for the door, ignoring the curious looks that followed me. I couldn’t bear to be there any longer, couldn’t stomach the idea of facing Colson again after what he’d just done.
I summoned an Uber. The drive home was a haze of anger and frustration, my thoughts spiraling as I replayed the scene over and over in my head. How dare he humiliate me like that? How dare he undermine me in front of everyone?
When I got home, I didn’t go to the master suite, didn’t even consider it. Instead, I went straight to the bedroom I’d lived in before the wedding, the one that had once been my refuge in this suffocating mansion.
I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound of the lock clicking into place was oddly satisfying, like a barrier between me and the rest of the world. I dropped my bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow as tears of frustration and rage burned behind my eyes.
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself believe, even for a moment, that things could be different? That Colson could be different? He was supposed to protect me, not humiliate me in front of others.
The truth was staring me in the face, clearer than ever. Colson was a master of masks, slipping between warmth and cruelty with an ease that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. In private, he played the role of the caring husband, but in public, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear me down if it served his purpose.
I wiped angrily at my tears, forcing myself to sit up. I couldn’t afford to be weak, couldn’t let him see how much his words had cut me. If I was going to survive this marriage, if I was going to find the truth and take back what was rightfully mine, I needed to be stronger than this.
But for now, all I could do was wait. Wait for the anger to subside, for the tears to stop. Wait for the moment when I could face him again without flinching, without letting him see just how deeply he’d wounded me.
The sun dipped below the horizon as I sat there in the darkening room, the only sound the distant ticking of the clock on the wall. Time passed, but the fury inside me didn’t fade. It only hardened into something colder, something more determined.
Everything was piling up, and the weight of it all felt suffocating. Weeks had passed since I was pushed down the stairs, and yet Colson still denied knowing who did it. His anger flared every time I brought it up, a warning that I was treading dangerous waters. But I couldn’t let it go, not when the box with my family name on it had vanished from the closet, as if it had never existed.
I’d searched everywhere, even risking a thorough investigation of our bedroom while he slept. But the file cabinet near his desk, the drawers he kept locked with that tiny key hidden in a ceramic box—all yielded nothing. The frustration gnawed at me,and more nights than I could count ended with tears soaking my pillow.
I must have cried myself to sleep again, because when I woke, the room was cloaked in darkness. A heavy silence hung in the air. My heart skipped a beat as I made out the silhouette in the corner, a figure sitting in a chair, watching me.
“Josephine, why did you leave?” Colson’s voice cut through the darkness, low and edged with something I couldn’t place.
The sound of ice clinking against glass sent a shiver down my spine. Since the yacht incident, he’d sworn off hard liquor, sticking to wine or champagne in moderation. But tonight, he’d turned back to whiskey or bourbon. The scent of it reached me, sharp and unmistakable as he approached.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “You embarrassed me, Colson,” I said, my voice thick with lingering emotion. “There were better ways to address the mistake I made.”
He was on me in an instant, crossing the distance to my bed so quickly it felt like he flew. His face pressed against my cheek, his breath hot and laced with alcohol. “With good reason,” he thundered. “How do you think AFC became what it is? By making mistakes? Don’t be stupid, Josephine. I demand perfection.”
His hands gripped my shoulders, the pressure enough to make me wince. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, a storm I couldn’t avoid. “It was unnecessary,” I said, my voice meek despite the anger boiling inside me. “You could’ve done it in private, after the meeting.”
“NO!” His shout echoed through the room, shaking me to my core. “It was on an official report. Every member in that roomhad a copy of it. I would’ve looked like an ass if I didn’t address it.”
I pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between us. “It was one fucking mistake, Colson. One in all the time I’ve worked for you.”
He sat on the bed beside me, his expression hard, unyielding. “Not one, Josephine. There have been others, but I’ve corrected them. You’re distracted. Your focus is off. I need you to tell me why.”
The moonlight filtering through the curtains cast a silver glow across his face. His eyes narrowed, searching mine for answers. “I want to know who pushed me,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear gripping my heart.
Colson scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration etched in every line. “Is that what this is about? Or is there more? Are you still angry about our honeymoon? I don’t know what else I can do to apologize.”
I couldn’t tell him there was more—about my quest to find out why they bankrupted my grandfather and stole my legacy. That was a secret I had to keep, a truth I had to uncover on my own.
“I’ve forgiven you, but you’re lying to me, Colson,” I said, my voice trembling with the weight of my accusation. “I know you saw who pushed me. I could’ve died, and you’re protecting someone who might try it again.”
He rose from the bed, crossing to the window where his glass sat on the sill. He drained it in one long gulp, as if he needed the liquid courage to speak the truth. The ice cubes clinked as he set the empty glass down.
“Simone,” he said quietly, the word hanging in the air like a death sentence.
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “I knew it,” I whispered, the truth crashing over me like a wave.
Colson moved to me, wrapping his arms around my back. I wanted to push him away, to reject the comfort of a man who had lied to me, who had protected the person who hurt me. But he was too strong, his embrace a cage I couldn’t escape.
“She’s been punished,” he murmured into my hair, his voice a mix of regret and resolve.
