Ransom

Days passed since that Christmas day when Chris's mom invited Michelle to crash the gathering at Chris's home. She would have understood if Maggie had invited her because she had nowhere to go, but that wasn't the case. Throughout the course of the day, she found out Michelle had family in the area that was expecting her over, but Maggie had insisted she stay for a few hours. The two women sat on the sofa chit-chatting like lifelong friends about how much more special Christmas is with children around, and how Michelle couldn't wait to be a mom, which Maggie was quick to lament that she and Chris had broken up.

That was a dagger to Persephone's heart. She thought she could handle a friendship between the two women but hearing Maggie openly prefer Michelle was more than she could take.

She was thankful Chris tried to remain by her side while Michelle was there, even when Maggie tried to call him over to reminisce about the days when the two dated. She was even more thankful for Micaela who was quick to point out that the relationship was simply something that transpired between two horny teenagers and not a love story for the ages.

The situation awoke Persephone's need for her own space once more, which she supposed was why she found herself standing on the sidewalk in front of her old home on this cold overcast day. She stared longingly up at the building atop the steps while simultaneously resenting Sebastian once more for costing her something so valuable and precious as her home.

She buried her hands in the pockets of the black coat with the faux fur lined hoodie feeling as her heart broke underneath its warmth.

After feeling the burn of Maggie's rejection, the need for her own space came back with a vengeance and had only intensified in the days that followed.

Persephone startled when the electric gate began to slide open, and soon a shiny matte black fancy car pulled up to the driveway.

"If you're here for a handout, you're not going to get one," a masculine voice called from the car.

Persephone quickly turned to look at the driver as he began to drive into the property. He hit the brakes as soon as the two made eye contact.

"You!" He called out. "You're the one that used to live here!" He exited the vehicle leaving it idling with the driver's side door open all the way as he walked toward her.

She didn't say anything for fear he would ask her for money but quickly surmised that if he was living there, he definitely wasn't hurting for money.

The tall guy in a brown knit sweater and blue jeans stopped as soon as he was in front of her. "Wyatt Ransom," he offered his hand with a smile.

She pulled the right hand from the coat's pocket extending it toward him. "Persephone de Cordova," she introduced herself as stared up at the handsome man with jet black hair and light blue eyes. "So, you're the one that kept outbidding everyone that wanted the house."

Wyatt nodded. "It was too beautiful to let go," he replied. "And that view," he placed a hand over his heart. "I know you must have hated to part with it."

Persephone nodded. "Breaks my heart to the day," she admitted as her gaze fell downward. A brief silence ensued.

"I recognized you from the news report," he pointed to the house. "Good thing you decided to move because I still get at least ten people a week asking for a handout from you."

Persephone instinctively reached for the hood pulling it over her head. "Still?"

The guy nodded.

She began looking around as paranoia hit her. "I could have sworn people would have forgotten the story by now."

He shook his head. "The story of a beautiful young lady that could make all your dreams come true with just a wave of her hand. Hardly," he crossed his arms as he leaned against the fence. "It's Fairytale-worthy." His smile was unwavering. "Did you want to go in and see your old home?" He pointed to the house.

Truth was she did, more than anything, but her lost sense of safety where the home was concerned would never allow that to happen.

Persephone shook her head and tried to play it off. "Do I want to walk into a stranger's home who knows my identity and whose last name happens to be *Ransom* of all things?" She scoffed as she began to walk away. "Not likely."

She was opening her vehicle's door when she heard him call out. "Feel free to stop by the sidewalk any time. Next time we meet, I'll bring you the best cup of coffee you've ever had in your life."