Chapter 19 19
Kimberly’s POV
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and stepped back, putting space between us, letting the silence sit for a second before I added, almost casually, “I’m going to see London.”
His hand tightened slightly against the armrest, his gaze locking onto mine in a way that felt more like a warning than anything else.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said.
I almost smiled at that, not because it was funny, but because it sounded familiar. “That’s been the theme all week, hasn’t it?”
“Kimberly.”
There was something in the way he said my name this time, lower, controlled, but edged with something he wasn’t letting out. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it sounded like concern. Or maybe possession.
Either way, I wasn’t staying for it. “I’ll be fine,” I said, brushing past him before he could say anything else.
I didn’t wait to see if he followed.
I stepped out to clear my head, it almost helped clear my head, like stepping out of the noise gave me room to think properly again. I headed toward the gate, pulling my phone out to check the time, already planning where I might find London, how long it would take, what I needed to say when I did.
I didn’t hear anyone approach. The second was assuming anything about today was going to be normal.
A hand came from behind, sudden and firm, grabbing my arm before I could react properly. Another followed just as quickly, rough fabric pressing against my mouth, cutting off whatever I was about to say.
The rest came out muffled. My body reacted before my mind did. I twisted, trying to pull free, but the grip tightened immediately, dragging me backward. My foot caught slightly against the ground, balance slipping just enough for them to take advantage of it.
“Who is this?” I tried again, the words barely making it past the cloth.
“Keep her still,” a voice said, low and impatient.
I struggled harder, my hands pushing against whoever had me, but it didn’t make a difference. The cloth stayed pressed against my mouth, my voice trapped, my movements controlled in a way that made frustration spike into something sharper.
“Relax,” another voice muttered near my ear. “You’re making it worse.”
I didn’t listen, I did the opposite of what they said. My pulse kicked up, my mind racing through possibilities, none of them good. This didn’t feel like a prank. There was nothing playful about the way they moved, nothing careless in the way they handled me.
Something tightened around my eyes. “Seriously?” I tried to say, but it came out muffled again as the fabric was secured into place.
The loss of sight made everything worse. Every sound felt louder, every movement sharper, every second stretching longer than it should. I focused on what I could still sense, the direction we were moving, the shift in the ground beneath my feet, the faint sound of a car door opening.
“No, please let me go,” I tried again, but they didn’t stop.
I was pushed forward, into the backseat, the pressure on my shoulders making it clear I didn’t have much choice in the matter. The door shut, the sound loud in the enclosed space, and a second later, the engine started.
My breathing stayed uneven for a few seconds before I forced it to slow down. Panic wouldn’t help. It would only make this worse.
Who would do this?
Was it London? I thought hard,it could be one of his stupid pranks. But no,I couldn't have been. This didn’t feel like him. It was too organized, and rough. Which made it worse.
“Where are you taking me?” I managed, the cloth still making it difficult to speak clearly.
I leaned back slightly, testing the space around me, the position of the people sitting on either side. Close enough to stop me if I tried anything, far enough to avoid contact unless necessary.
Everything about this was planned.
The car moved steadily, turns coming at regular intervals, the sound of traffic fading the longer we drove. I tried to keep track of the direction, the time, anything that might help later, but it didn’t take long before the route stopped making sense.
Then finally the car came to a stop.
The door opened and hands grabbed my arm again, pulling me out before I could brace myself properly. My feet hit the ground, uneven for a second before I steadied, my head lifting instinctively even though I couldn’t see anything.
“Walk,” one of them said.
I didn’t argue with the command, I needed to understand what was happening first. So,I needed to cooperate.
Steps sounded on the floor as we approached wherever they headed, we stopped at a point and I could hear the sound of the door opening. Footsteps echoing slightly against a hard surface. The blindfold was removed.
Light hit my eyes too fast, making me blink against it as my vision adjusted. Shapes formed slowly, then clearly, the space coming into focus piece by piece.
We stood in a large room,it had little to no furniture, cleaned and looked like a hiding place, not necessarily a home.
A man stood a few feet away, his posture straight, his presence quiet but commanding in a way that didn’t need effort. He looked older, maybe late forties, early fifties, dressed sharply, not a detail out of place.
He looked oddly familiar, odd because I could swear I had never seen this man before. I couldn't place it immediately. He sized up me for a moment before speaking.
“Hello, Kimberly.”
My brows pulled together slightly. “How do you know my name?”
He inclined his head slightly, like he expected the question. “My apologies for the way you were brought here. It wasn’t meant to be this uncomfortable.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
A faint hint of something crossed his expression.
“I am Dr. Cole Alexander,” he said calmly. “Julian’s father. And the CEO of the Alexander Empire.”
The name Alexander sent multiple bells ringing in my head. That was Julian’s name. For a second, everything connected in a way that made my chest tighten.
“You’re his father,” I repeated, more to confirm it than anything else.
“Yes.”
Silence stretched between us, not awkward, not tense in the usual sense, but loaded with something else entirely.
I crossed my arms slightly, grounding myself before I spoke again. “Kidnapping people isn’t exactly a normal introduction.”
“I needed to ensure privacy,” he replied without hesitation. “You understand.”
Instead, it made me more alert. “Why am I here?” I asked, cutting straight to the point.
His gaze held mine, steady, measuring.
“Because,” he said slowly, “you’ve become involved with my son.”
I didn’t react immediately, letting the silence sit for a second before responding. “Then maybe someone should’ve said that earlier.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But circumstances changed.”
My mind flicked briefly to the mark on my wrist.
To Julian and to everything that had been building without explanation.
“This is about your son and you think bringing me here like this is going to make me cooperate?”
“I think,” he corrected calmly, “that you don’t yet understand the position you’re in.”
Something in the way he said it made my stomach tighten slightly. I held his gaze, not backing down, not giving him anything he could use. “Can I leave now?” I asked, almost bored.
“That depends on how much you’ve already seen,” he said. Then when he saw the look on my face, he let out a loud laughter.
He looked at me with keen focus. “Interesting,” he murmured.
The word sent a quiet unease through me.
“What is?” I asked.
His gaze sharpened slightly, not losing that calm, controlled edge.
“Your mark,”