Chapter 106
She hadn’t even finished speaking when her phone buzzed again.
It was Emma, calling yet again.
Ivy ignored the call, pressed reject, and looked at Emma. “What did Father Benedict say?”
Before Emma could answer, a man in black glanced out the window. “Miss Windsor, there are a lot of patrol cars on the street.”
Ivy leaned over to see for herself. Sure enough, blue and red lights flashed everywhere, police cars lining the block.
It seemed the Windsor family–or maybe Micah–had already realized Emma had been “kidnapped.”
“How much longer?” Ivy asked.
“Ten minutes,” the driver replied.
“Step on it.”
But they didn’t even need ten minutes. The limousine turned into the driveway of a sprawling mansion.
Emma was dragged out of the car, kicking and struggling. “Ivy, what the hell are you doing? I already apologized! What more do you want from me?”
Ivy hopped out first, tossing over her shoulder, “Taking you somewhere nice.”
“You…you’re selling me off, aren’t you?” Emma’s panic rose. “This is illegal! If my parents find out I’m missing, you’ll be their first suspect!”
Ivy couldn’t be bothered to answer. She strode into the mansion.
Emma’s shouting didn’t stop. She screamed threats, cried for help, hurled curses all the way through the foyer.
“Emma, if you don’t shut up, I’ll have someone shove a snake down your throat,” Ivy said coolly.
The noise cut off instantly.
For a moment, there was only the sound of Emma’s ragged, terrified breathing. Then she muttered, trembling, “You’re crazy… You’re completely insane-”
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Ivy snorted. “After being trafficked to a place like that? Locked in a pigsty for three years? Going nuts is the most normal thing in the world.”
“I’m lucky to even be alive. So what if I’m a little crazy?” Ivy dropped onto the sofa, tilting her chin in command.
Someone yanked off Emma’s hood.
So much for Emma’s fancy new hairdo–it looked like a bird’s nest now, wild and tangled.
She squinted, blinking against the sudden light. As her eyes adjusted, she saw Ivy lounging on the couch–and immediately let loose. “You psycho! What is this place? What do you want from me?”
Ivy replied, “It’s your birthday.”
She lifted her hand, gesturing around the room. “So, what do you think of the birthday party decorations?”
Emma twisted around, finally taking in her surroundings. She was inside a mansion, the massive living room decked out to the nines–flowers, balloons, an elaborate spread of food and wine, everything sparkling and perfect.
And there, lined up along the wall, a row of young, strikingly handsome men, each one masked with a sleek black half–mask, dressed in crisp white shirts, black trousers, and tailored vests.
They looked like they’d been plucked straight from an exclusive gentlemen’s club–perfect, polished, and ready to please.
Emma was speechless.
“Ivy… what are you doing?!”
Ivy smiled, turning to the men. “Today’s my little sister’s birthday. I want you all to give her the time of her life. Make it unforgettable.”
The men saluted in unison. “Yes, Miss Windsor.”
As upbeat music filled the air, they closed in on Emma, circling her, dancing, flirting, teasing–everything short of tearing her clothes off.
Meanwhile, a video camera was set up across the room, recording every second. Ivy lounged comfortably, sipping wine, watching the spectacle unfold.
Suddenly, sirens wailed outside–loud, insistent, and getting closer. At least three or
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four squad cars, by the sound of it.
Katrina leaned over, whispering, “Ivy, the police are here.”
“Relax. Everything’s under control.” Ivy nodded at the men. “Untie her.”
In moments, the ropes around Emma’s wrists and ankles were gone.
Overcome with relief, Emma leapt up, ready to bolt for the door–but the men closed ranks, pressing her back into the chair and surrounding her, dancing even closer, blocking every escape.
The front doors burst open as a swarm of police officers stormed in, weapons drawn, the tension in the room snapping taut.
“Police! Nobody move!”