Page 29 of Entrapped
I sighed, frustration bubbling up inside me. "She drugged my lemonade, Easton. I was fine until I drank it. How could anyone willingly take that stuff if it makes you feel so rotten?"
He shrugged, looking thoughtful. "Not everyone has the same reaction. Some people take MDMA and feel euphoric, while others... well, you saw what it did to you."
I shuddered, the memory of the terrifying symptoms still fresh in my mind. "I thought I was dying," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "And to think she did that to me on purpose... It’s like she’s trying to push me over the edge."
Easton’s gaze darkened, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more protective. "Simone’s always had a mean streak, but this... this is crazy, Josephine. You need to be careful."
I nodded, feeling a chill run down my spine. "I know. But what am I supposed to do? Colson already had her moved to the guest house, but it’s not enough. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants."
"And what does she want?" Easton asked, his tone serious.
"To drive me out of this family. To make me leave Colson. Maybe even worse," I whispered, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.
Easton reached out, taking my hand in his. "You’re stronger than she thinks. Don’t let her win."
I looked into his eyes, finding comfort in his words, but also a deep unease. "I don’t plan on letting her win, Easton. But I can’t help feeling like I’m fighting a battle I can’t win."
He squeezed my hand gently. "I’m here to support you."
I managed a weak smile. "Thank you."
He nodded, standing up. "Get some rest."
As he left the room, I closed my eyes, but sleep didn’t come easily. Simone had crossed a line, and I knew things would only get worse from here. I just didn’t know how much worse.
The next day, Vaughn came to pick me up from the hospital. Colson was tied up in Boston with meetings, leaving Vaughn as the only option. As soon as I stepped out of the hospital, the news hounds descended, cameras flashing and questions being shouted, all desperate for a statement. The official cause of my hospitalization was “fatigue,” a convenient lie to cover up the truth.
Vaughn guided me into the limo, his hand firm around mine as he helped me inside. The moment I sat down, he slid in next to me, too close for comfort. I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.
"Vaughn, you’re engaged," I reminded him, my voice sharp with the warning I wished he would heed.
He ignored my words, his expression intense. "If anything happened to you…"
I cut him off, exasperated. "What? You would cry? You’re getting married next spring, Vaughn. To Serena."
"Leave him," he whispered, his voice low and desperate. "I’ll take care of you."
"No." I yanked my hand free and moved to the far side of the seat, pressing myself against the window as if I could escape through it. "Vaughn, you have to stop this."
But he wouldn’t stop. He leaned in, caging me with his presence, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and danger. "And what will happen when you become irrelevant? When Serena no longerwants to have sex with me, and Colson is cheating on you? Will you consider me then?"
I gasped, horror and anger clashing in my chest. "No. I take my wedding vows seriously."
"But Colson won’t," he said, his voice dripping with certainty.
I shot back, my tone laced with venom. "Did he with your mother?"
The question seemed to sting, and for a moment, Vaughn’s confident facade cracked. "She was different. He would do anything for her."
I felt the familiar tightness in my chest, the same feeling of inadequacy that Colson’s affection for his late wife always stirred in me. "But not for me?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady.
"Not for you," he confirmed coldly, his gaze hardening. Then, softer, almost pleading, he added, "Spend a night with me. Let me have you just once."
The words sent a wave of revulsion through me, and I scrambled across the limo, putting as much distance between us as possible. "NO! You have to stop this."
He only smiled, a twisted kind of satisfaction in his eyes. "I hear you and him, you know. God, it gets me so fucking hot to hear your cries. I can do better than he can."
"You’ll never find out," I hissed, my voice shaking with fury.
