Chapter 47

The night was ink-black, but the villa blazed with light. Nicole Capra stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, her silk nightgown clinging to her curves. She studied her reflection, crimson lips curving into a smirk.

What woman wouldn’t want a man like Andrew Lucas? Tonight, she would make him hers.

"Andrew..." She turned, her voice dripping with honey.

He stood at the stairwell, his black shirt accentuating his cold elegance. His brow furrowed. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

She glided closer, fingertips brushing his collar. "I wanted to keep you company."

Andrew stepped back and pressed the intercom. "Escort Miss Capra home."

A flash of fury crossed her eyes. She lunged, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Andrew, I’m your fiancée! We’re supposed to—"

"Enough." He pried her hands away and draped his jacket over her shoulders. "Don’t make me repeat myself."

As he walked upstairs, Nicole dug her nails into her palms. When the butler approached, she forced a demure smile. "Thank you."

Susan Thompson curled on the couch, staring at her phone. Only thirty-six hours remained before the kidnappers’ deadline.

One million. The number crushed her like a mountain.

She thought of Vincent King. If only he were still the man he’d once been... Susan laughed bitterly. The most useless word in the world was "if."

A knock startled her. Bella Quinn rushed in, chilled from the wind, and pulled a cloth bundle from her coat. "Take this."

Two stacks of cash, still warm from her body heat. Susan’s eyes burned. "Bella..."

"Don’t worry. I’ll find more." Bella squeezed her icy hands. "Daniel will pull through."

Susan opened her mouth but stopped. She couldn’t mention the kidnapping. She couldn’t drag her friend into danger again.

"The surgery money... it’s covered." She forced a smile. "A kind stranger helped..."

Bella grabbed her wrist. "You’re lying!" Her gaze locked onto Susan’s pale face. "What’s really going on?"

Before Susan could answer, she spotted bruises beneath Bella’s sleeve. She yanked it up—jagged scars crisscrossed her skin.

"Simon Finch did this?" Susan’s voice shook.

Bella jerked her arm back. "I fell. I have to go." She bolted for the door.

Susan chased her downstairs just in time to see a woman yank Bella’s hair. "Slut! Sneaking out to meet men at night!"

"I wasn’t—" Bella shielded her stomach.

The woman raised a wooden rod. "I’ll beat the shame out of you!"

The rod whistled through the air, aimed straight for Bella’s abdomen—