Page 8 of Entrapped
“I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” I struggled to find the right word. “Affectionate.”
His lips curled into a small smile, but it wasn’t the usual smirk I was accustomed to. This one was softer, almost vulnerable. “You’re my wife now, Josephine. I intend to take care of you.”
The words were simple, but they carried a weight that made my chest tighten. I wanted to believe him, wanted to think that maybe there was more to him than the man I feared. But I couldn’t shake the doubt, the certainty that this was just another one of his tactics—a way to keep me close, to make me bend to his will.
“I just…I didn’t expect this,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw something—regret, maybe, or the ghost of some emotion he’d buried long ago. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the familiar hardness I knew so well.
“I’m full of surprises,” he said, his tone light but his grip on my chin firm. “You’ll learn that in time.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant, to dig deeper and find out what lay beneath the surface. But instead, I nodded, letting the subject drop. I wasn’t ready to push him—not when I was still trying to figure out where I stood.
Colson leaned in, kissing my forehead softly before pulling away. “Come on, let’s get you ready for dinner.”
He helped me sit up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss as his warmth left me. He was being careful with me, treating me as if I were something precious. It was a stark contrast to the man I’d seen before, the one who took what he wanted without a second thought.
As he helped me out of bed, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all part of a game—one I wasn’t sure I knew how to play. I would have to be careful, to keep my guard up, no matter how much I wanted to let it down.
Colson Ashworth was dangerous, I just needed to find out how much.
The next morning, the sun shone brightly over the Mediterranean, the sky a perfect, endless blue. As we drove along the coastline, the warmth of the day wrapped around me, but a different kind of heat simmered just beneath my skin. Anticipation mixed with a touch of unease as I thought about the yacht Colson had mentioned—a vessel that was to be our home for the next few weeks.
As we rounded the final curve of the marina, I caught sight of it. Even from a distance, it was impossible to miss. The yacht was enormous, dwarfing the other boats docked nearby. Its sleek, white hull gleamed in the sunlight, cutting a striking figure against the deep blue of the water. It was almost twice the size of the one Colson had in New York, and I couldn’t suppress a gasp at the sheer scale of it.
“We’re taking that?” I asked, my voice betraying my awe as I turned to Colson.
He smiled, clearly pleased with my reaction. “Yes. It’s ours for the duration of the trip. Impressive, isn’t it?”
Impressive didn’t even begin to cover it. As we approached, I marveled at the yacht’s elegance and opulence. The design was sleek and modern, every detail meticulously crafted to exude luxury. The decks were expansive, made of polished teak that caught the light in a way that made the whole vessel seem almost otherworldly. Large, panoramic windows lined the sides, offering what I imagined would be breathtaking views from every angle.
Colson helped me out of the car, his hand once again resting possessively on the small of my back as we walked down the dock toward the yacht. As we got closer, I noticed the crew, all dressed in crisp white uniforms, standing at attention. They greeted Colson with a mix of deference and respect, their eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to him.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Ashworth, Mrs. Ashworth,” one of them said, nodding politely as they lowered the gangway.
Mrs. Ashworth. The title still felt strange, foreign, like it belonged to someone else. But as I stepped onto the yacht, thereality of my situation settled in a little more. This was my life now, a life of unimaginable wealth and privilege, all tethered to the man at my side.
Colson guided me up the gangway, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he was afraid I might slip away. We stepped onto the main deck, and I couldn’t help but be struck by the grandeur of it all. The yacht was a floating palace, complete with plush lounge areas, a hot tub that overlooked the water, and even a small swimming pool. Everything was pristine, untouched, as though the yacht had been prepared just for us.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper as I took it all in. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Colson’s smile was more genuine than I’d seen before, a flicker of something softer beneath the usual mask of control. “Only the best for you, Josephine. This is where we’ll be spending the next few weeks, sailing wherever we please.”
As he led me through the various levels of the yacht, each one more luxurious than the last, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being in a dream. The main salon was a vision of modern elegance, with white leather sofas, a grand piano in the corner, and walls lined with abstract art that must have cost a fortune. There was a fully stocked bar, its glass shelves lined with bottles of the finest spirits, and a dining area with a table that could easily seat twelve.
“This is…incredible,” I breathed, running my fingers along the smooth surface of the bar. “I can’t believe I have access to all of this.”
“You do now,” Colson replied, his tone a mix of pride and something deeper. “Everything I have is yours.”
I wanted to believe him, to believe that this opulence, was something I could truly call mine. But there was a part of me that couldn’t forget the price of it all—the deal I’d made, the life I’d left behind. As much as I wanted to enjoy this moment, there was always a shadow lurking in the corners of my mind.
We continued our tour, and Colson took me to the master suite. It was even more breathtaking than the rest of the yacht. The room was enormous, with a king-sized bed draped in the softest linens, a private balcony that opened up to the endless sea, and an ensuite bathroom with a deep soaking tub and marble countertops.
“This will be our room,” Colson said, his hand sliding down my arm as he watched me take in our surroundings. “I wanted something special for our honeymoon.”
I turned to him, searching his eyes for any hint of the man I’d seen glimpses of—the one who was capable of tenderness, of real emotion. “Why are you doing all of this, Colson? Why go to so much trouble?”
He stepped closer, his fingers gently tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him. “Because you’re my wife, Josephine. And I take care of what’s mine.”
