Page 30 of Entrapped
"Promises, promises," he taunted, his voice thick with arrogance.
We pulled into the driveway, and before the car had even come to a full stop, I shoved the door open and bolted out, desperate to get away from him. Vaughn followed at a more leisurely pace, but I was already halfway up the stairs by the time he stepped into the foyer.
The entire Ashworth family—minus Easton—disgusted me. Vaughn, with his incessant advances; Simone, with her malice; and Colson, with his cold indifference and secrets. As I reached the top of the stairs, I knew one thing for certain: I was trapped in a world where loyalty was a currency, love was conditional, and trust was a rare commodity. And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could survive in it.
Chapter 13
I wandered through the house, the quiet unsettling in its stillness, until I found Colson in his office, staring blankly at the wall. The moment I stepped inside, his eyes snapped to me.
"Good, you’re home," he said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth.
I frowned, lingering in the doorway. "I thought you would pick me up."
"I had a couple of phone calls to make," he replied, leaning back in his chair as if that simple explanation should be enough.
Of course, he did. It was always something with him—something more important, more pressing. The sting of his indifference was familiar by now, but it still hurt.
"What do you plan to do about Simone?" I asked, cutting to the chase.
His expression immediately hardened, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the door. "Close the door, please."
A chill ran down my spine at the change in his tone. I did as he asked, the soft click of the door shutting behind me echoing ominously in the dark, masculine room. The only light came from the banker’s lamp on his desk, casting deep shadows that made his features appear even more severe, almost sinister.
I sat down on one of the leather couches, my body tense, hands clasped tightly in my lap. Colson steepled his fingers on the desk, a familiar gesture that told me he was about to drop something big—something I wasn’t going to like.
"Colson…" I began, but he held up a hand, silencing me.
"I’ve made a decision based on what I feel is fair," he said, his voice measured and cold. "I’ve set up an account for you with twenty million dollars from Simone’s trust fund."
I blinked, the air rushing out of my lungs. "Excuse me?"
"After speaking with your doctors about how dangerous what my daughter did was, I’ve decided you more than deserve it," he continued, as if discussing the weather.
"I don’t understand," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Colson raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing. "I have control of Simone’s trust fund until she’s thirty, with discretion. I chose to remove her access to it, as you know, but this cannot stand. Since my daughter only knows money, she will now understand that her actions have consequences."
I stared at him, my mind spinning in a million different directions. Twenty million dollars. He was giving me what amounted to a settlement, civil damages for what Simone had done to me. It was more money than I could have ever imagined, enough to start a new life, to leave him and never look back.
And he knew it. He must have known what I was thinking, what I could do with that kind of money. His eyes never left mine, watching, calculating.
"You must think this changes everything," he said, his voice soft but cutting. "But remember, Josephine, I’m still in control. I’ll be the trustee on the account for large purchases, which means you can’t remove a few million dollars without my signature."
My hands clenched in my lap. Of course, there were strings attached. There always were with Colson.
"What will that leave Simone?" I asked, my voice trembling, betraying the fear I tried so hard to conceal.
Colson’s gaze softened, just a fraction, but it was enough to remind me of why at times I had affection for him. "Joey, that’s what drew me to you. Even after everything she’s done, you’re still worried about her."
I shook my head, the fight draining out of me. "I’m not worried. I’m afraid. What about her future?"
He let out a sarcastic laugh, one that made my skin crawl. "Simone received money from her mother upon her passing. Twenty million will not even leave a small dent. Don’t worry about my daughter."
"I’m a millionaire…" The words felt foreign, strange.
"You’re a billionaire’s wife," he corrected, his tone final. "I can buy you whatever you desire, just name it."
I swallowed hard, my thoughts turning to my family. They were struggling, renting a home in town, and I had the means to help them now, to give them something they might never have otherwise.
