I faked to my right then ran to my left, my heels wobbling around my ankles.
He grabbed me by the elbow, but his hand slipped on the blood.
I tripped and fell to my knees, the necklace still in my hand.
His heavy body dropped on top of mine, forcing me onto my back, his fingers squeezing my throat so tight I could barely breathe. His handsome face hovered over mine, an indulgent sneer spreading over it. “I knew you’d come back.”
I kicked out my knee but missed my target.
He squeezed me harder. “What is it about that stupid necklace?”
The rage burned me alive, gave me a surge of strength I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I jerked my head up and smacked him as hard as I could.
It hurt like hell, but it was enough to give me time to crawl away.
He grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me back.
We locked into a battle, his hands trying to pin mine down, my legs flailing and kicking whatever I could reach. I bit into flesh, scratched his skin, did whatever was necessary to break free. I got a fist to the face for it, a scar to my neck from the tightness of his choke hold. He wouldn’t kill me—but everything else was on the table.
“Darling.” He pinned me hard to the floor.
“Don’t fucking call me that!” I threw both arms down on his head and found my opening.
I ran for it, but then I halted after only making it a few feet.
The necklace. I’d dropped it.
From his knees on the floor, blood smeared across his teeth, he held up the pearl necklace. “You aren’t going anywhere.” He slowly rose to his feet, ready to pursue me once again.
I had to make a choice. Leave it behind—or become a prisoner once again.
I ran for it, his footsteps loud behind me. I knocked down everything in my path to create obstacles, kicking off my heels because they were only slowing me down, and took the stairs instead of the elevator.
I heard a loud thud behind me, as if he’d slipped on one of my heels.
Good. That’d buy me some time.
I made it to the main floor, and everyone turned to see me sprint down the stairs and push through the crowd.
Surely, he wouldn’t let himself be seen chasing me right in the middle of a dinner party, would he?
When I got to the front door, I turned around and realized how wrong I was.
He had just made it to the bottom of the stairs, his maniacal eyes locked on me with blood lust.
Shit, shit, shit.
I bolted outside and saw a Ferrari parked in the roundabout. The owners had just exited the car and tossed the keys to the valet.
I ran like the wind, snatched the keys out of the valet’s hand, and apologized the whole way. “I swear, I’m not stealing your car!” I jumped in the door, slammed it shut, and hit the lock button.
Through the passenger window, I could see him sprinting down the steps, yelling at his men to stop me.
“Bitch, you can’t stop me now!” I slammed my bare foot to the pedal and gave a lurch when it accelerated faster than I’d anticipated. I nearly crashed the car before I regained control. “Damn, this thing is fast.” I turned the wheel and sped down the drive, and once I made it to the open road, I really pushed it.
I looked in the rearview mirror and didn’t see a line of cars behind me, but I wasn’t foolish. I knew that wasn’t the end. It would never be the end—not until he was dead.
I should be grateful I made it out of there with nothing but a black eye, but it was hard not to be disappointed about leaving empty-handed.
Leaving the necklace behind.
TWO
CAMILLE
I continued to wear my sunglasses inside the café, doing my best to hide the bruise that had only gotten worse with time. Now my eye was so dark it looked like I’d had too much fun with a new shade of eye shadow.
He paid for his coffee and took a seat, elbows on the table, so bored he looked tired, despite the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon. A black wedding ring was tattooed on his left hand, and his muscular arms stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt.
I sat across from him, not bothering with the coffee.
He took a drink, his eyes looking over the rim as he stared at me. “Janice, I’m a busy man—”
“Camille.”
“Whatever,” he snapped. “I told you I’m out of the game.”
“Everyone has a price, right?” I asked hopefully.
He continued to stare at me with that bored look.
“I have a couple million—”
“I told you I’m out of the game. I’ve never made an exception, and I’m not going to start now.”