Chapter 346 Kidnapped
I shot him an annoyed look. ‘Anyway, I’m just tired. There’s nothing wrong with me. Just let me get a few proper nights of sleep. Then I’ll be back to my old self.’
‘Alright,’ Ashton said, pulling me close with a sigh.
I could feel the heat of his body against my back, and the obvious evidence of his arousal. But I was already fading, my eyelids growing impossibly heavy. Within moments, I was asleep.
The next morning, I woke up feeling just as drained.
‘What time is it?’
‘Almost eight,’ Ashton replied. ‘But if you’re still tired, just sleep a bit longer. Take the day off. What’s going on with you lately? Is it really just exhaustion?’
‘It’s all your fault,’ I grumbled, giving him a half-hearted glare.
‘Yes, yes. It’s all my fault. I’m the one to blame,’ he conceded readily.
I had no intention of calling in sick. ‘I’m getting up. I’m going to work.’
‘You’re so tired, though. Just take the day. Please.’
I shook my head. ‘No. I’ll be fine.’
I was determined not to skip work. I got up, washed, had some breakfast, and then Ashton drove me to the studio.
I stumbled into the office, yawning all the way. Priya took one look at me and teased, ‘Rough night?’
Her suggestive tone made her meaning perfectly clear. ‘Watch it, or I’ll have to dock your pay,’ I shot back, though there was no real heat behind it.
She just laughed.
I’d gone to bed early last night—no distractions from Ashton—so I’d expected to feel refreshed. But as the morning dragged on, I was still struggling to keep my eyes open. What was wrong with me?
I decided I needed a strong coffee from the café next door.
But just a few steps outside the studio, a powerful force yanked me off my feet. Someone pulled me roughly into a waiting van. It happened so fast—I had no time to react or fight back.
‘Mirabelle! Mirabelle... Mirabelle!’ I heard Priya’s panicked shouts just before the van door slammed shut and we sped away.
Inside the van were several masked figures. The air felt cold and hostile, and fear began to claw its way up my throat.
‘Who are you? What do you want?’ I asked, trying to sound calmer than I felt. But their harsh eyes told me everything—this was bad.
The man who’d dragged me in struck me hard across the face. My head spun, ears ringing.
Slap.
Another blow landed. I tried to struggle, but men on either side pinned my arms down.
‘Fuck! Let me go! Who the hell are you?’ I shouted.
Slap.
A third hit, harder this time. It felt personal.
‘You stupid bitch. You must know you’ve pissed someone off,’ a cold voice hissed.
I didn’t recognise it. ‘Who are you?’
Pissed someone off?
Who?
Genevieve?
Frank?
Someone else entirely?
‘Why should I tell you?’ the voice replied, dripping with contempt. He sounded like he genuinely hated me.
‘What’s your connection to Genevieve?’ I guessed blindly. But the slight tightening around his eyes—the only part of him I could see—told me I’d hit a nerve.
Slap!
Another stinging blow landed on my already sore cheek.
I gritted my teeth against the pain, furious and helpless. I prayed Priya had called the police and Ashton. Maybe traffic cameras had caught the van’s license plate. Maybe help was already on the way.
I hoped.
For now, I decided it was better to stay quiet.
I couldn’t see outside; the windows were covered. The van sped recklessly, swerving and jolting until my stomach churned violently. I sat perfectly still, afraid that if I moved even slightly, I’d be sick.
Time stretched endlessly. I lost all sense of how long we’d been driving, every moment pure agony.
Then, finally, the van began to slow. It rolled to a stop, and the engine cut out.
The door was opened and as soon as I saw it swing wide, I rushed out and vomited violently onto the ground.
‘Useless bitch.’ The same scornful voice.
When I was finally done, my whole body felt weak, but at least my stomach was somewhat relieved.
It was only then I realised it was already dark outside. Had I really been in the van for so long?
Where was I?
I looked around. We were outside a large house. It looked like a private residence.
‘If you’ve finished being sick, get your arse inside,’ the man’s cold voice cut through the night.
I dragged myself forward on heavy legs.
Once we were inside, he spoke again, just as coldly: ‘Take her upstairs.’
Just like that, I was escorted up to a room.
Soon after, the man appeared in the doorway, his gaze still frozen. ‘Now you’ll get to experience what it’s like,’ he said. ‘To carry a child, and then be forced to get rid of it. Let’s see how you like that kind of pain.’
What did he mean? Pregnant? An abortion? I didn’t even know I was pregnant—how could he? And that tone... it was pure revenge, like he was blaming me for what happened to some other woman. Had someone else gone through that because of me?
Before I could untangle my frantic thoughts, I was hauled back downstairs, a hood was pulled over my head, and I was shoved into another car. We drove for nearly two hours, ending up somewhere completely unfamiliar. Wherever it was, it was a long way from Skyline.
‘What are you looking at?’ the man asked coldly, noticing my defiant glare.
‘Who are you?’ I shot back. ‘What’s your connection to Genevieve?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘You don’t strike me as one of her hired hands,’ I pressed, squinting slightly as though trying to see past whatever was covering his face.
For just a second, he seemed caught off guard.