“Could we have a moment?”
“I’m in a bit of a hurry,” I say.
The other quickly replies, “Just a minute, please. It’s about Brooke.”
“Do you know where she is? I’ve been looking for her.”
“You probably won’t recognize us with our masks, but I’m Lowri, and this is Cassie from Brooke’s law firm. We met you at the movie premiere.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“It’s none of our business, but if you care about Brooke at all, you need to apologize for saying there’s no one special in your life.”
I nod. Evan and Sean were right. I’m a bloody idiot.
“I know. I’m trying to find her to make it right. Where is she?”
“The last time we saw her, she was looking at the jewelry.”
“Where did she go from there?”
“I think she headed down the side hall toward the staircase,” Cassie says.
“Okay. I’ll search there again.”
“Do you really care about her?” Lowri asks.
“I do.”
“Then make it right with her. She deserves the best,” Cassie says.
“I know.”
They nod and walk away as I turn, hurrying back into the mansion.
I quickly walk past the staircase and encounter three choices. I can continue forward, turn right, or turn left.
I’ve only walked a few steps to the right when I hear someone behind me say, “Broadmoor wants us to move her to thebasement. He’s worried she’ll wake up and someone will find her before the guests leave.”
Why is Broadmoor worrying about a woman waking up? Could it be Brooke? Rage burns inside my chest from fear that Brooke may be in danger.
I stay hidden and continue listening.
“How does he expect us to carry a woman through the house without someone noticing?”
“If anyone sees us, just say she had a little too much to drink. These wealthy fucks always drink too much. It shouldn’t be an issue.”
My hands clench at the disrespect and callousness of these arseholes.
I hear a click as a door opens. Peeking around the corner, a door in the wall under the staircase is ajar. A couple of minutes later, one of the guys comes out with a woman in red tossed on his shoulder in a fireman carry.
My muscles tense, and my pulse races. I sent Brooke a special red dress to wear. But it still may not be her across the man’s shoulder. Lots of women are wearing red tonight. Surely, it’s not her.
I take the chance to peer around the corner again. Seeing the feathers, I know it’s my Brooke. How dare he have his hands on her, and why isn’t she protesting? Is she not able to?
Disbelief turns to anger and urgency, the likes of which I’ve never felt before. Immediately, I begin formulating a rescue plan.
My instinct is to confront them, but the burly security guards are armed with guns. I can’t risk them hurting her or taking us both hostage. So, I pull back into my hiding spot as soon as they start walking. When their footsteps near the hall where I’m hiding, I quickly turn my back and walk away, staggering as if completely pissed.
