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Damn. This guy really hates me.
Well, he can join the club. My father probably hands out lapel pins.
“Dinner is at seven.” I half listen as Hot Doctor rattles through the welcome talk, my fingernail still scratching at my suitcase. When I swallow, my throat is tight.
I can’t believe this is happening. Can’t believe my father did this.
It was just atrip.A few stolen weeks of independence. I wasn’t gonna embarrass him, or hurt his chances of reelection. I wanted to tour the freaking museums. Would that be so bad?
“Miss Lennox.”
I jolt back to myself, blinking my eyes into focus. Hot Doctor’s still watching me, but his frosty veneer has cracked the tiniest bit. He’s staring at me with something that looks suspiciously like concern, shifting his weight like he’s about to come closer.
“I’m good.” I hold up my palms, my laugh rusty. “Calm down, Doc. It’s all good. Don’t get your panties in a knot.”
Quick as a blink, that concern drops away—and maybe Iamcrazy, because I miss it. Instead, we’re back to a clenched jaw and open distaste.
“Come to my office at 9am tomorrow, Miss Lennox. We’ll do your assessment right away.” The doctor turns on his heel and leaves the villa without another word.
I watch him go, stomach churning.
Man. Even the doctor is desperate to be rid of me.
* * *
Click.
The villa door closes behind Hot Doctor, the lock whirring into place, and the second he’s gone, panic crawls up my throat. So am I well and truly trapped here? Will I need to crawl out of a window?
One step at a time, Poppy.
Gah.
My hands shake as I tug my suitcase down to lay flat on the rug. It smacks hard against the floor, the thump echoing in the large room, and I drop to my knees at its side. The zipper catches, biting down on the fabric, and I tug the case open in jerky spurts. The fiddly metal zipper is slick in my sweaty grip.
No time to panic.
Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths.
This is a setback. A solvable problem. I’m gonna regroup here overnight, get my head on straight, and then it’s time for sweet, vicious revenge. Except—
“No.” Tops and handfuls of underwear fly across the villa. A pair of black period panties smacks against a painting of the beach before dropping to the floor. “Shit. No. Shit,no.”
If Hot Doctor peers through my villa window right now, it won’t help my assessment. I must look insane, hunkered over my open suitcase, flinging everything I own at the walls, but I can’t find them.
My phone.
My purse.
The freaking tools of my escape.
What use is it being free to go if I have no money or phone? No chance at getting by? Especially since my father is richer than god, and once I expose to the world what he’s done, he’ll be out for my blood. Idefinitelypacked them.
My ears ring as I sit back on my heels, the empty carcass of the suitcase splayed in front of me.
They’re not here. Someone took them already.
FuckHot Doctor. Blistering rage fills me in a sudden flood, brimming up inside me until my bones ache and my muscles twitch. He acts so professional—so high and mighty—but he’s just the same as the rest of them.
In my father’s pocket.
Ready to ruin my life at a single command.
“Shit!” I yell it out, loud and shrill, because what does it matter now? Who cares if I seem crazy? They’re gonna lock me up here either way. The proof is in that empty suitcase.
My lips are numb as I slide down onto my ass, flopping onto my back. Hours pass and the time for dinner comes and goes, but I stay here, gazing up at the ceiling.
* * *
