Page 21 of Entrapped
“I’m busy,” he said, his tone colder than usual.
“I don’t care,” I replied, standing my ground. I had become all too familiar with his mood swings, and today, I wasn’t backing down.
Colson leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he watched me with that calculating gaze of his. “Good,” he said slowly. “Because I have something to discuss with you too. I don’t appreciate you disrespecting our home.”
I blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“You had friends over, drank my liquor, and let them smoke in the house. You know how much I hate cigarettes.”
I stared at him in disbelief, then let out a bitter laugh. “Friends? Colson, I don’t have friends—unless you count the social climbers who pretend to like me for donations. But if you wantthe truth, check the camera feeds. You’ll see who was really here last night.”
His expression darkened, and his jaw tightened. “I did check the feeds. They were off until a few minutes before I got home.”
“Of course they were,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “It was your precious daughter, not me. I wouldn’t disrespect our home like that, especially not when I have work to do.”
Colson’s face hardened, and he rose from his chair. “Simone wouldn’t do that. She knows better.”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “But I don’t, right?”
He took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve been disobedient before, Josephine. You’re sometimes worse than a toddler with your tantrums.”
My blood boiled, and I shot back, “Then why don’t you choke me until I pass out again? You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
Before I could react, Colson was on me, shoving me down onto the couch with such force I barely had time to process it. His knees pinned my arms down, and the weight of his body left me powerless beneath him. The look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine—dark, unfeeling, and terrifying.
“Sometimes,” he hissed, “the abuse is warranted. You’ve grown bold, and I don’t like it. What happened to my gentle, shy kitten?”
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “She became an Ashworth,” I whispered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
For a moment, something shifted in his eyes, and just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Colson climbed off me, adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. Then he pulled me to my feet and into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against my ear.
“You bring out the worst in me,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes, pressing my face into his chest, my breath shaky. “The worst doesn’t need an invitation, Colson. It finds its own way out.”
He released me and returned to his desk, his back to me. “Why did you come here?” he asked, his voice emotionless.
“Simone,” I said, straightening my clothes, trying to regain my composure.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if the mention of her name exhausted him. “This again?”
“Yes, this again,” I said, my voice firm. “She had that party, and she’s clearly taking advantage of you. Have you spoken to her?”
Colson didn’t look at me. “I have not.”
“Then do it,” I demanded, my frustration boiling over. “Or I’ll remove myself from the situation. I don’t feel safe living in the same house as your daughter.”
“You won’t be going anywhere,” he said flatly, finally meeting my gaze with a steely resolve. “You’re my wife, and you’ll live in the same home I do.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words settling over me like a shroud. He wasn’t going to let me leave, no matter what Simone did. But I wasn’t going to stay quiet either.
Later that evening, I found myself pacing the length of our bedroom, my mind racing. The confrontation with Colson had left a bitter taste in my mouth, but it also stirred something deeper—something I couldn’t ignore. I needed to get away, even if just for a few hours. I needed to breathe.
I grabbed my coat and purse, glancing at the clock. It was nearly midnight. Colson was still in his office, probably brooding over some business deal or nursing a drink. I didn’t care. I had to leave before I suffocated under the weight of this house and everything it represented.
As I reached the front door, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. “Sneaking out?”
I turned to see Simone lounging against the banister, a smug smile playing on her lips. She looked as if she’d been waiting for this moment, her eyes gleaming with hate.
