Page 120 of Our Broken Pieces
“You think this Grace woman has something to do with her not being here?” Audrey asks, her tone sharp.
“I can’t help but think it’s connected,” I reply, my voice tight with anger. “Grace has a record; she’s far from a saint.”
I slump onto the couch, the silence between us heavy and suffocating. My mind is racing with a thousand worst-casescenarios, each one more terrifying than the last. I can feel anger bubbling just beneath the surface, but I force myself to take deep, measured breaths, trying to keep the fear at bay.
Audrey sits beside me. “You know Gigi is smart and tough as hell, right?” she says, her voice steady but gentle.
I nod, swallowing hard. “I love that about her.”
Melonie offers a small, reassuring smile from across the room. “We know you do.”
Just as she finishes speaking, my phone buzzes in my hand. I glance at the screen, my blood running cold. An unknown number.
Unknown:Mr. Holt, we have your wife. Don’t reach out to anyone. In 30 minutes, you’ll receive an address. Meet us there by 12 PM. Before that, transfer $5 million to the account we’ll send. If you don’t, you’ll never see her again. This is your only warning.
I stand abruptly, rage flooding through me. My wife is being held by some psychopath, and I have no idea if she’s safe. She could be scared, hurt—and I’m not there to protect her. My breath comes in ragged bursts as I hand Audrey the phone.
“Holy fuck,” she whispers as she reads it.
Melonie’s eyes dart between us. “What? Is it from Gigi?”
Audrey hands her the phone, and Melonie’s face goes pale as she reads. “Oh my God. Marcus, five million dollars?”
I barely hear her as I screenshot the message and send it to Rory. “I don’t care about the money. I just want her back. And I want this woman to pay for doing this to her.”
Chapter Eighty-Five
Gigi
I’m so tired. The adrenaline that kept me going has long since faded, but fear kept my eyes wide open through the night. Eventually, I must have given in, catching some restless sleep before the two morons jolted me awake again.
Grace let me use the restroom, then I was herded back to the couch. The morning news droned on the TV, the time reading 10:30 a.m. I should be with Audrey and Melonie right now, getting ready. A wave of sadness tightens my chest as tears sting my eyes. I can’t stop thinking about Marcus. I miss him so much it hurts. If I could just reach him with my thoughts, tell him where I am, draw him to me. All I want is to feel his arms around me, smell his cologne, and hear that deep voice of his that always makes me feel safe.
Grace interrupts my thoughts with a smirk. “Well, Genevieve, we’re about to see if your fiancé really cares about you.”
I grit my teeth. “He does. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right.”
Idiot number one plops a plate of toast in front of me. My hands are bound, useless. “How am I supposed to eat, dipshit?” I snap.
He looks to Grace, and at her nod, he winds up and slaps me hard across the face. Pain explodes on my cheek, and my breathing quickens, my heart racing.
Grace grabs my jaw, forcing me to meet her gaze. “That disrespectful mouth of yours won’t fly here.”
I spit in her face. She wipes it off calmly, fury simmering beneath the surface. “You better pray your man comes for you, because if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure you regret ever crossing me. Lance, take her food away. She doesn’t deserve it.”
Lance grabs the plate from my lap and heads to the kitchen. Grace stands in front of me, her words sharp and venomous. “No wonder your parents didn’t want you.”
As she turns and leaves, I can’t hold back the tears anymore. I feel utterly broken. I need Marcus now more than ever.
Chapter Eighty-Six
Marcus
As I wait for Rory to call me back, it hits me that I need to tell my father what’s going on. We are supposed to get married at two pm, and that’s clearly not happening. I send him a quick text, asking what room he’s in, and head to the elevator. When I reach his door, I knock.
He opens it. “Son.”
