His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows.
Emeric's fingers trembled as he shuffled through the divorce papers, the pages fluttering like wounded birds in his grasp.
His gut twisted - something wasn't right.
The document was flawless, every asset accounted for with surgical precision. But it was Flora's signature that stopped him cold - those bold, decisive strokes screaming her resolve. The elegant curves of her handwriting might as well have been a guillotine blade falling.
The world tilted.
Pierre's panicked confession came rushing back. Paper crumpled in his fist as Emeric whirled on his assistant, voice like shards of ice. "What the hell do you mean she overheard us? Explain. Now."
Pierre went sheet-white. He swallowed hard before whispering, "That night... you were wasted. I called your wife to collect you. We waited... but she never came. Or so we thought." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Boss... she was there the whole time. Heard every damn word."
When Emeric just stared blankly, Pierre reached into his arms and produced the recorder. The click of the play button echoed like a gunshot.
Then their voices spilled out, damning and clear:
[Boss, six months ago when we kidnapped your sister-in-law, destroyed her reputation... seeing how kind she is to you now... did we cross a line?]
[Marie needed to marry into this family smoothly. Wrong or not, this had to happen. If I can't stand by her in this life, at least I can clear her path...]
Emeric saw red.
He snatched the device and pitched it onto the asphalt, tires screeching as he ground it beneath his Mercedes. But when he reversed - there it was, still playing, still taunting him.
His vision tunneled. Dress shoes pounded the recorder into the pavement until his Armani shirt clung to him with sweat. Only when the damn thing finally died did he stop, chest heaving.
He rounded on Pierre, who stood frozen like a deer in headlights. "This is your fucking job?!" Emeric roared, spit flying. "I had guards posted! Find her! Don't come back until you do - you'd better pray you find her first!"
Pierre scrambled away like his life depended on it.
Slumping against the car, Emeric slid down until pavement bit into his tailored pants.
The irony choked him. For years, Marie had been his impossible dream - the wound that never healed. And Flora? He'd plucked her from hell itself, only to keep her in a gilded cage. Never his equal. Always his charity case. Never... loved.
The truth tasted like ashes.
His gut twisted - something wasn't right.
The document was flawless, every asset accounted for with surgical precision. But it was Flora's signature that stopped him cold - those bold, decisive strokes screaming her resolve. The elegant curves of her handwriting might as well have been a guillotine blade falling.
The world tilted.
Pierre's panicked confession came rushing back. Paper crumpled in his fist as Emeric whirled on his assistant, voice like shards of ice. "What the hell do you mean she overheard us? Explain. Now."
Pierre went sheet-white. He swallowed hard before whispering, "That night... you were wasted. I called your wife to collect you. We waited... but she never came. Or so we thought." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Boss... she was there the whole time. Heard every damn word."
When Emeric just stared blankly, Pierre reached into his arms and produced the recorder. The click of the play button echoed like a gunshot.
Then their voices spilled out, damning and clear:
[Boss, six months ago when we kidnapped your sister-in-law, destroyed her reputation... seeing how kind she is to you now... did we cross a line?]
[Marie needed to marry into this family smoothly. Wrong or not, this had to happen. If I can't stand by her in this life, at least I can clear her path...]
Emeric saw red.
He snatched the device and pitched it onto the asphalt, tires screeching as he ground it beneath his Mercedes. But when he reversed - there it was, still playing, still taunting him.
His vision tunneled. Dress shoes pounded the recorder into the pavement until his Armani shirt clung to him with sweat. Only when the damn thing finally died did he stop, chest heaving.
He rounded on Pierre, who stood frozen like a deer in headlights. "This is your fucking job?!" Emeric roared, spit flying. "I had guards posted! Find her! Don't come back until you do - you'd better pray you find her first!"
Pierre scrambled away like his life depended on it.
Slumping against the car, Emeric slid down until pavement bit into his tailored pants.
The irony choked him. For years, Marie had been his impossible dream - the wound that never healed. And Flora? He'd plucked her from hell itself, only to keep her in a gilded cage. Never his equal. Always his charity case. Never... loved.
The truth tasted like ashes.
End of His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to His Staged Abduction, My Broken Vows book page.