Page 2 of Vegas Daddy


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Taking a deep breath, I rise from my seat and hastily rush over to the vanity mirror. I grab a handful of makeup wipes and start scrubbing at my face like it’s covered in mud. Twenty minutes isn’t a lot of time, but it’s the only window of opportunity I can manage.

Behind me, the door opens softly and shuts quickly after with a softclick. In the vanity’s reflection, I watch as Marianne slips into the room with a large backpack and a change of clothes.

“It’s me,” she whispers. “They think I’m bringing you tea. The guards are all waiting downstairs. It’s now or never, Ms. Allegra.”

Marianne is one of the maids. She’s a mousy little thing, with her beady black eyes, pointed nose, and small mouth. But she’s one of the good ones. Discreet.

Right now, discretion is everything.

I wouldn’t describe us as being particularly close, but she’s the only one who has ever shown me an ounce of kindness. In this prison of a house, she’s the closest thing I have to a friend. I’m more than a little aware of how sad that is.

We move silently and swiftly. She unzips the back of my wedding dress and throws me a pair of jeans, a grey shirt, my winter coat, and a pair of sneakers. My heart pounds in my throat, adrenaline tingling in the tips of my fingers and toes. I feel like I’m dying with every passing second. If I mistime my escape, I’m as good as dead.

“It’s all in here?” I ask her, grabbing the backpack.

Marianne nods. “I swiped your father’s safe combination from his black book last night. I grabbed everything I could. Roughly three thousand in cash.”

I let out a shaky breath. It’s a miracle my father even has the good sense to keep a squirrel fund considering how in the red his accounts are. If Esteban knew he was holding out on him…

Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Three thousand dollars isn’t enough to start my life over completely, but it’s better than nothing. I reach into my bag, pull out the wad of bills, and count out a thousand. It only leaves me with two thousand, but it’s a small price to pay for her silence.

I shove the money into Marianne’s hands. “You speak of this to no one.”

“W-what if they find out it was me?”

“They won’t,” I assure her. “Once they realize I’m missing, they’ll think I broke into my father’s safe. I promise nothing will happen to you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Ms. Allegra. If they catch you…”

“They won’t.” I pull the hood of my coat over my head, concealing my ruined up-do. “Stick to the plan. I’ve only got one shot to make this work.”

“Yes, Ms. Allegra.”

We get to work trashing the place. I toss over the coffee table while Marianne opens the window as wide as it will go. My father thought keeping me locked away in my fourth-floor bedroom before the wedding would deter me from jumping—and it totally has. Shattering my legs will probably hinder the running away portion of my plan.

Once I’m convinced my room is properly destroyed, I walk over to Marianne and ruffle up her hair and clothes.

“Slap me for good measure,” she suggests. When I give her a quizzical look, she says, “It’ll make it look more convincing.”

I suck in a sharp breath, raising my hand. “I’m so sorry. Please put ice on it later, okay?”

“Yes, yes. Go on! Before I change my mind.”

I bring my hand down and strike her hard across the cheek, my handprint already reddening her skin. Marianne winces, tears in her eyes. I feel awful, but she’s totally right. If we’re going to sell our act to the guards, I can’t afford to do this in halves.

I hide on the other side of my large mahogany wardrobe closest to the door, my back pressed against the wall to keep out of sight. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good luck, Ms. Willow,” she whispers. Marianne gives me a supportive nod before she takes in a big, sharp inhale. “GUARDS! Guards, she’s escaped! Ms. Willow has escaped!”

Their thunderous stampede echoes up the stairs, low voices barking orders as five armed men rush into my bedroom. Marianne wails, a hand pressed to her swelling cheek as heavy tears stream down her face. She points at the window, frantically trying to talk while hyperventilating.

She would have made a wonderful actress in another life. I know it’s fake, but evenIfeel bad for her.

“She attacked me!” Marianne cries. “She attacked me and pushed me down! Then she went out the window and—”

I don’t stick around to listen to the rest of her prepared speech. The guards have their backs to me, offering me the perfect opportunity to quietly slip out the way they came.

I hold my breath as I rush down the stairs, careful to keep my footsteps as light as possible. My heart pounds so loud and so hard I’m worried it might burst out of my chest. Every muscle fiber in my body burns with fear and desperation.

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