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Regret flickers in Lionel’s gray eyes for a second.
He looks exactly like he did when I said goodbye to him outside the coffeeshop less than an hour ago. Stylish maroon pants, a white dress shirt, and his brown hair perfectly styled. Just like any other rich student at Ivy River. And not at all like a cold-hearted, double-dealing kidnapper.
I gape at him, disbelief ringing like bells in my head.
He shoots me an apologetic look before turning back to Doyle. “She is the sole heir to the Ashford empire. Her father will pay you whatever you want to get her back. You can demand enough money to clear my debt to you, with interest, ten times over if you want.”
A scheming glint creeps into Doyle’s eyes, and a sharp smile curls his lips as he studies me. “A blank check, indeed.”
“So my debt is paid?”
“When I have received Trent Ashford’s money,” Doyle says as he locks hard eyes on Lionel. “Then yes, your debt will be paid and the price on your head will not go into effect.”
Intense relief washes over Lionel’s entire body. But I can barely process it because I can’t get past the realization that Lionel kidnapped me. He fucking kidnapped me in order to clear his own debt to a gambling king.
And suddenly, all the fear inside me evaporates. Gone like smoke in a strong wind. In its place, burning rage flares up.
I’m going to fucking kill this son of a bitch.
“I assume you have his number?” Doyle asks Lionel.
The little weasel nods and pulls up a phone.
Doyle takes the offered phone. “Good. Then let’s get some video proof.”
He snaps his fingers at the two men who were standing silently a few steps behind him.
I study their faces and the way they move as they approach me. They’re not the same men who kidnapped me, which means that these two must work directly for Doyle while the two who grabbed me must have been hired by Lionel.
The one with black hair walks up behind me while the one with the shaved head takes up position on my left.
My muscles tense.
But all the guy behind me does is to untie the knot and remove my gag.
I work my jaw and run my tongue around my mouth. Then I level a furious stare on Lionel.
“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” I growl at him.
Regret flickers in his eyes again. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice? You?—”
I stop speaking abruptly as the guy with the shaved head pulls out a gun and presses it against my temple.
“I’m not interested in your squabbles,” Doyle says, and slashes a hand through the air while shooting an annoyed look at Lionel. Then his hard eyes lock on me. “When I start filming, you are going to say these words and these words only. Please, Dad, give them whatever they want. They’re going to kill me.”
Anger courses through my veins like lightning, and I glare back at the loan shark.
He stares back at me. When I say nothing, he demands, “Understood?”
My first instinct is to tell him to shove that fucking phone up his ass. But then Jace’s words pulse through my mind again. Don’t fight them. Do whatever they say. I’m coming for you.
I glance down at my watch. I still have no idea how Jace is going to be able to find me. But I trust him. I trust him more than I have ever trusted anyone in my entire life.
So I keep my eyes downcast and tell Doyle what he wants to hear. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” He snaps his fingers. “Now, look at the camera.”
