Page 89 of Prince of Control
“No,” I cut in. “I need you to stay here and protect the house. Especially after what happened with the Titans.”
My dad raises an eyebrow, but when we don’t explain, he lets it go.
Leo frowns but doesn’t argue more.
“I’ll see how fast I can get a plane to you,” my dad says. “Maxim will prepare a list of things for Adrian to bring for you–weapons and kevlar–that kind of thing. We’ll be in touch. Meanwhile, rest and eat. You’ll need your strength.”
I nod my agreement, but I don’t need food or rest. Rage gives me all the strength I need.
My wife is in the clutches of a psychopath. I could burn down the entire world right now to get her back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lara
I’m in deep trouble.
I pace in the large bedroom Brash brought me to. It’s a master bedroom with a large king-sized bed and a huge window overlooking an orchard. We’re not in Paris. We’re at Brash’s family’s residence in Turkey.
The door is locked. If I had any doubts, it’s confirmed. I’m his prisoner.
My head is muzzy because I didn’t sleep at all on the way here, and it would be five in the morning back in Illinois.
It was just Brash and his henchmen on the flight over. There was no one I could appeal to for help. I waited until Brash dozed off to sleep and then tried to use my phone, but there was no service or wifi to send a message to anyone.
When we landed, he took my phone from my purse and tossed it out the window of the limo that picked us up.
“Deep breaths,” I mutter to myself, trying to keep the panic at bay. I feel like I’m the heroine in a horror movie where she suddenly realizes that nothing was what it seemed.
I’m the heroine who is too stupid to live. Why did I leave with Brash?
What made me think he was safer than Baron?
Oh, Baron. Thinking of him still makes my chest feel like it's been cleaved in two.
I am trying to put this all together. I had the entire plane trip to think. To examine the puzzle pieces and try to fit them together.
Brash said my arranged marriage had to happen because I had interest from another party—him. Baron’s expression had confirmed the truth of that statement. What had Brash said on the plane? Your father shouldn’t have refused my initial offer.
Meaning he’d offered to marry me? After a few dates? Without even asking me?
I shake my head. This is so medieval. So it’s not about Brash's desire for me. I’m the pawn. Maybe the plan is as obvious as it seems. An arranged marriage to make an alliance with my father. Except forcibly kidnapping me is not going to win my father’s cooperation. Brash misplayed his hand if he thinks this ends the way he wants it to. Or maybe he doesn’t care anymore, and this is just about getting even with my father for snubbing him.
Except he called me his wife.
He talked about punishing me.
A sick feeling washes through me. Somehow I know this isn’t the seductive kind of punishment I experience at Baron’s hand. The kind that includes a little pain and ends in pleasure for both of us. If I thought Baron had a sadistic streak, it’s nothing compared to the real violence I sense in Brash.
I flop down on the bed. The pain of missing Baron makes tears sting my eyes. But damn him!
If our marriage was rushed or forced through to keep Brash from making a claim on me, why couldn’t he just have told me that?
Better yet, why didn’t my dad tell me? He was the one who put me in this horrible situation by not trusting me with the truth. If I get out of this, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him.
But those thoughts won’t get me out of this. I need to keep a clear head. Figure out how to manage Brash. Find a phone to call Baron or my dad. My dad would be closer to Turkey, but it’s Baron I want. It’s Baron my body grieves for. Baron whose face I want to slap for conspiring with my dad without filling me in.
Knowing Baron, he could already be on his way.
