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EMMALINE

I was alone when I woke up. I frowned as I sat up, looking around the room. James’s side of the bed was still made.

He hadn’t come to bed yet.

I grabbed my phone off of the nightstand and unlocked it. A message from James met my eyes.

Had to take care of something. I’ll be back late. -James

It was currently three in the morning. I swallowed thickly, anxiety swirling in my gut. I was worried about him. He’d sent that message about nine that night.

I jerked my head up when the bedroom door opened. Alfonso stepped into the room, his lips twisted into a scowl. He narrowed his eyes at me. I swallowed thickly, suddenly acutely aware that I was only in one of James’s t-shirts and a pair of panties.

“Can I help you?” I asked him, forcing my voice to come out strong despite the fear twisting in my gut.

Something was wrong.

“You’re changing the boss, and Mr. Frank doesn’t like it,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. I tightened my grip on the phone in my hand, my heart knocking painfully hard against my breastbone. “I’ve been ordered to get rid of you.”

I quickly jumped off of the bed, backing away from him as he stalked towards me. My legs were shaking so badly that it was a miracle my knees were still holding me up. “Alfonso, please, let’s just rethink this,” I begged him. “I’ll leave; I promise.”

“Problem is, if I let you leave, Emmaline, Mr. Jackson will find you. He will destroy this world to get his hands on you again; you’ve been collared,” Alfonso reminded me. “In this family, that’s the equivalent of a marriage vow, and the only way out is death.”

Fear clawed up my throat. I spun and made a mad dash for the closet since he was blocking my way to the door. I was almost inside when he grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me backward, sending me flying to the floor. My head painfully slammed into the dresser behind me. Black spots danced in my vision, and I moaned in pain as I desperately tried to focus on what was happening.

Alfonso knelt over me and gripped my chin, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. I moaned in pain, my hands coming up to claw at his arms. He smirked in amusement. “I think I’ll have fun with you first, though – see what Mr. Jackson sees in you.”

“No,” I mumbled, my vision fading in and out. I was fighting with every bit of myself to stay awake.

I would not die here today.

“No?” he asked softly. I blinked, trying to focus and not succumb to the darkness pulling at me. “I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do to you, Emmaline.”

Anger bubbled up inside of me. “Pathetic,” I told him as my eyes fluttered shut. I forced them back open right as the back of his hand came across my face. Hot tears sprung to my eyes, falling down my cheeks.

My head hurt so bad.

“Watch what the fuck you say to me,” he growled as he suddenly pulled a knife out and held it against my throat.

I would not fucking die here today – not like this.

I spit up in his face, momentarily distracting him. He reached up to wipe the spit from his face, and I used that moment to yank the knife from his hand, slicing my hand open in the process since I had grabbed the blade. Pain raced up my arm, but I ignored it, though it almost pulled me completely under.

I stabbed Alfonso in the neck. His blood poured over my hands as he fell forward on top of me. I blinked furiously, sobs tearing at my throat, but that darkness finally won, sucking me under.

But I didn’t allow him to kill me.

~*~*~

“Emmaline?” a vaguely familiar voice asked. “Emmaline, fuck, please wake up and answer me.”

I slowly opened my eyes. My head was pounding, and my skin was sticky. Pain was flaring through my palm and the side of my face. I closed my eyes again, but the person speaking shook me, forcing my eyes back open again.

Adrian’s face slowly came into focus. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “Jesus Christ. You need a hospital.”

“James,” I mumbled. I reached up to hold my head, a whine of pain falling from my lips.

“He’s on his way, Emmaline. I called him already,” Adrian assured me. He wrapped an arm under my shoulders and gently eased me into a sitting position. A man in scrubs and a white lab coat was kneeling in front of me.

“Can we move her downstairs?” Adrian asked him.

“Emmaline, what happened to your head?” the doctor asked me, ignoring Adrian.

“Hit it,” I mumbled, the room beginning to spin. I moaned low in my throat as I closed my eyes again, my body sagging against Adrian’s. Nausea swirled in my gut, rising in my throat.

“She has a severe concussion for sure,” the doctor spoke. “We need to get her downstairs to the infirmary. I need to run some scans – check for swelling. And I need to stitch her palm. She’s still bleeding.”

“Where the fuck is she?!” I heard James roar from downstairs.

“James,” I mumbled. Tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted James.

“Easy. We’re going to take you downstairs,” Adrian assured me. He gently lifted me into his arms. I gagged, vomit pushing up more.

“Quickly,” the doctor urged.

Adrian moved down the stairs, meeting James halfway up them. “James,” I whispered. My head throbbed. I whimpered, tears of pain sliding down my cheeks.

“I’m here, little one,” James soothed as he quickly took me from Adrian’s arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

I blinked, trying to focus, but his face was becoming hazy. With a low groan, I placed my head on his shoulder, going back under again.

~*~*~

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