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GENEVIEVE
Sipping my champagne, I cross my legs on the wooden desk before me, my black Louboutins flashing as my grey trousers ride up. Leaning back in my leather chair in my office overlooking the city, I unfasten the golden buttons of my suit jacket, letting it gape open just enough to keep my breasts covered, since that’s all I’m wearing, bar the diamond necklace. I wear matching diamonds in my ears as well.
As I move my flute away, I spot my red lipstick marking the edge of the crystal and smirk as my eyes flick back to the TV in my office. The news is going crazy with the elite scandal. They are calling it “The Fall of the Dandridges.” After all, it’s not every day one of their own turns on them and the news gets a scandal like this. The rich usually make it disappear, but not this time.
No, the story is being heard worldwide, and my smirking face is across every news report. Even my history from when I was a kid was dug up, not that I care. They can judge me if they want, but they don’t. No, in fact, it only seems to make people love me more and become angrier on my behalf. The street kid who, despite all odds, made it big, only to be taken for a fool by the man she fell in love with.
Poor me, play the world’s smallest violin.
“The world is still reeling from Genevieve Dalton’s sudden appearance at her own charity gala last week after being presumed dead. After being kidnapped, the business owner and entrepreneur not only proved all those rumours were true, but that it had been her very own lover. Her soon-to-be husband was behind her disappearance, trying to get rid of her for her money, all while cheating on her and setting up other extortions and thefts with prominent names in London’s elite. Chaz Dandridge—”
My eyes go to the door when I see someone hurry past. Since my reappearance, my business has boomed, and it makes me beyond excited for what my future has to offer. Leaning forward, I grab the bottle of Moët and pour myself another glass, knocking it back as I flip through the news channels, watching for any signs of my guys and our secret.
I’ll take our dirty little secret to my grave.
The next news channel shows an interview of me outside the police station from the night of the gala, after I was hurried there to give my statement on what happened. My men quickly evaded capture, slipping out of the backdoor in the chaos. I watched them hesitate to leave me, but I knew they had to. If they were caught—
No, I can’t think about it.
“Who took you, Ms. Dalton?” a journalist calls.
I smile sweetly, my hands clasped before me like a good girl. Two police officers stand on either side of me, one being the fucking commissioner.
“Genevieve, who were your kidnappers?” someone else shouts.
I hold up my hand delicately and drop my eyes, putting on a good fucking show. The fear in my gaze is also a lie, but they don’t know that. “I never saw their faces, but they never hurt me. I have given all my information to the police in hopes they can find the men working with Chaz and bring them to justice. I cannot thank you enough for all of your kindness and help during this hard time—”
I giggle to myself as I lean back, tilting my head so my icy blonde hair tumbles over my shoulder from its ponytail. I miss my oversized shirts from the guys. I also miss my messy hair and not wearing makeup. I miss feeling their dominating hands stroking across my skin. I miss waking up with them and spending every moment of my day with them, but we can’t… Not yet.
They protected me and gave me freedom and justice. Now, I need to do the same for them, even if my heart aches from missing them so fiercely. My masked thieves stole me away in the night and disappeared the same way, but I see flashes of them here and there, reminding me they haven’t left me behind, and it’s enough to keep me going.
A rose in my kitchen.
A diamond necklace in my car.
Food delivered to my door…with cream cheese.
I even see flashes of them in crowds, stroking stolen touches in the bustling throng. But the biggest one? When I was walking to my car last night, I saw their masks in an alley across from me, protecting me, and I’ve never felt safer, knowing they are out there in the dark, waiting to claim me again. I shiver in my chair, shifting to ignore the aching desire blooming inside me.
I change the channel again, trying to distract myself from thoughts of them and all the wicked, dirty things I plan to do to them once I can have them again.
“Chaz Dandridge has announced bankruptcy, as has his family after the embezzlement, theft, and kidnapping has come to light. The police are still investigating all the evidence provided by his ex-fiancée, who happened to be his victim. The Dandridge family has refused to comment and are closing ranks, but as they were led to the courts today, the outcome of the trial is undeniable. The Dandridges will lose, and Chaz, once a billionaire playboy, will go to prison for his crimes. It seems the rich are not untouchable, just ask one woman—”
Smirking, I flip to another, unable to help myself as I laugh and sip champagne at their expense.
This time, it’s footage of me standing before my business after being trailed by journalists. It’s one of the many reasons the guys can’t be with me. I haven’t had a minute of peace since coming back, and they would stick out. The journalists’ questions only confirm that.
“Are you going to press charges?”
“No,” I say stiffly. “I have a life to get on with and a business to run.” I grin. “The police have everything they need to convict Chaz without me. This is bigger than me, after all. This is about all the people he has hurt, and he will get what he deserves.”
“What about you, Ms. Dalton?” someone calls.
“Me?” I grin right into the cameras. “I plan on living a very long, happy life.”
Toasting the news channel, I press my lips to the edge of the crystal. “Congratulation’s, fiancé, and have fun in prison. I know I’ll be having fun out here. So much fun…”
My eyes go to the street below, where I see a flash of a grinning neon mask.
“So much fucking fun.”
I’m coming to get you, my thieves, and when I have you, you’ll be my stolen trophies, not the other way around.
