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He rescued me from hell. Saved my soul. Made me whole again.
I was ready to end it all.
Content to die surrounded by the absence of anyone who loved me and with nothing to my name but scars and misery.
Alone.
So when an opportunity finally presented itself to escape, I took it. I knew there was a chance he would find me, but I’d rather die fighting than die complaisant in my gilded cage.
However, my only ally had his own set of intentions.
I’d been liberated from one monster only to find myself in the clutches of another.
But this time, I’m ready.
This time I won’t go down without a fight.
With Love
- age gap
- alcohol
- alcoholism
- antihero
- assault
- bad boy
- bdsm
- billionaire
- broken in some way
- class warfare
- emotional scars
- enemies-to-lovers
- fairytale retelling
- false imprisonment
- fish out of water
- grumpy/sunshine
- hea
- kidnapping
- murder
- not good enough for her
- opposites attract
- profanity
- protector
- rags to riches
- sexually explicit scenes
- violence
- you've changed
HEA
Must read Stolen Love (Book one) first.
“Why don’t you go first?” she suggests.
“No, please. I insist,” I answer.
She smiles and takes a deep breath as if she’s gathering up the courage to ask me whatever it is she needs to ask me.
“Well, I’ve been considering what we talked about last week, and I think I’m finally ready for some answers.”
“Oh,” I respond.
I knew that she would be at some point, but I wasn’t positive it would be so soon. “Okay. Please, feel free to ask me anything.”
She steels herself once more and sits up straight. She begins to open her mouth, but stops herself. Crinkling her forehead and standing, she walks over to the window. Looking straight out into the woods surrounding us, she crosses her arms in front of her. After a minute or two, she finally speaks.
“How do you know him?” she starts.
“We were friends,” I pause. “More like brothers, really.”
She turns, her eyes narrowed with confusion.
“Not the answer you were expecting?”
With a look of shock still on her face, she turns back toward the window.
“How can I be your wife and his wife at the same time?”
Though she isn’t looking at me, I can picture the sarcasm written all over her face coupled with her classic eye-roll.
“Did you ever see any proof of your marriage? A license? A photograph from your wedding day?”
“No.”
“Because, you were never legally his wife. There was no wedding.”
“I asked him for proof once. It didn't go well.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she answers as she shakes her head. “Let’s just say it was rare that I asked him any questions after that.”
I am positive I know what that means, and I try to calm the rage that is swirling within me.
“Do you have proof?” She turns and looks at me. “Proof that I was, am legally your wife?”
“Yes. Would you like to see it?”
“No,” she answers quickly.
“Okay,” I say. “Let me know if that ever changes.”
“Were we happy?” she asks.
“We were incredibly happy. The kind of couple that everyone was envious of.”
“How did we meet?”
I smile when I think about the first time that I saw her.
“You crashed your car into mine. You were so embarrassed; it was adorable.” I pause there and shoot her a smile. “We ended up going out to lunch and by the time I dropped you off at your apartment later that day, I knew that I was going to marry you.”
She smiles slightly, but it doesn’t last long. I can see tears beginning to pool in her gorgeous green eyes.
“How long were we together?”
“Six years.”
“When did we get married?”
“April 16, 2014.”
“How did it all go to shit? How did I end up with him?” Tears now falling down her beautiful, porcelain face.
She’ll hate me after this. I know it. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for her reaction.
“You were pregnant. We were so happy, but I was also terrified. My mother died in childbirth along with my twin brother. I was so worried that something bad was going to happen to you or our child. Or both.”
She’s looking at me, stunned by the story I’m telling her.
“You ended up miscarrying, and it tore us apart. I had completely withdrawn. You tried everything in your power to bring me back to you, but I was so stubborn. I was determined to live in agony. It drove you away. You spent a lot of time with him at that point. I always sensed that he had romantic feelings toward you. You were extremely vulnerable, and he used that to his advantage. You started having feelings for him too.”
I pause and look at her. An astonished, unbelieving look crosses her face.
“He wasn’t always evil, not the way he is now, anyway. He treated you like a princess at one time. You looked up to and admired him as if he were your older brother. He was the one to walk you down the aisle at our wedding.”
I realize immediately what I just said.
Shit.
If she doesn’t already know that her parents were dead, she does now. My statement doesn’t appear to have much effect on her other than shock at the thought that Lock was a half decent guy once upon a time.
“Around the same time that we found out you were pregnant, he and I had a huge falling out regarding the business that we owned together. He resented me for disagreeing with the direction he wanted to take our company. But, because I owned 51 percent, I had the final say. He wanted everything I had.”
Her stare levels out, her previous shock washed away.
“One night I got a phone call from someone who knew him closely. He told me that he had information regarding your miscarriage. He overheard Lock bragging about slipping something into your drink, causing you to lose the baby. I hung up the phone and drove straight over to his apartment. When I got there, we had an argument. He told you that I didn’t deserve you. That I pushed you away during the darkest moment of your life. I told you that he gave you a drug, causing you to miscarry. There was a bit of back and forth. You weren’t sure who to believe. In the end, you believed me and demanded an explanation from Lock.”
Her brows furrow with concern.
“He couldn’t come up with any more lies, and he disappeared somewhere in his apartment. At the same time, we made our way toward the elevator to leave. That’s when I felt the first bullet hit me in my shoulder. I turned around, blocking you so you wouldn’t get hit. I told him to take the company if that’s what it was that he wanted so badly. I told him to think about what it is that he was doing. To decide whether this was worth losing family and friends over. He fired two more shots; one bullet hit me in my stomach. The other went through my heart. I am uncertain of the timeline after that, but it was obvious that he took you and drugged you, erasing your memory.”
Her soft, green eyes shine with unshed tears, and I want them to be for me.
“I woke up in the hospital three months later. I haven’t stopped looking for you since then.”
There are so many emotions written on her face. Shock. Betrayal. Despair. I keep quiet, letting her take all of this in. She turns and walks back toward the window, and I see her wiping tears from her eyes. I sit there for a little while longer before speaking.
“I’ll,” I stand, the hole in my chest aching to go and wrap my arms around her. “I’ll go. Please let me know if you need anything.”
She continues looking out at the forest that surrounds the house, giving me no response. I turn and just as I am about to exit her bedroom, I hear her call my name.
“Marshall,” she calls out.
“Yes?” I turn back around as quickly as possible and watch as she turns to face me.
She stands there for a moment, not moving. We stare at one another for what seems like forever before she lifts her hand to her face and wipes away more tears from her cheeks.
“I believe you.”