Page 65 of Stolen Bride for the Don

Only after leaving the town do I realize that I have no idea how to get to Hudson’s estate. I can get myself to Providence, no problem, but getting to his house is the issue. Damn it, I should have paid more attention to the road when Tanner was driving me here. I tap my hand on the steering wheel, admiring the glint of my ring in the sun.

I smile when the bling starts to make my eyes water from staring at it too long. That overbearing, possessive, jealous bastard. Should I text him to ask for directions? No. There’s still about forty minutes before I get to Providence. I can text him then. The sound of my phone suddenly ringing in the quiet startles me, and the car swerves when I jolt.

“Damn it,” I mutter as I get the car under control again. I pick my phone out of the center console and check the caller. Think of the devil.

“Hello?” I say cautiously as I answer the call.

“Pet.” Hudson’s voice sounds deeper than I remember; it spreads warmth through me because of that blasted nickname I’ve come to love.

“Hudson, hi.” I say and clear my throat awkwardly.

“Where are you going?” His question makes me pause even as a movement behind me makes me look in the rearview mirror. There’s a big black van behind me with tinted windows.

“What do you mean where am I going?” I ask absently as I press on the gas so the van doesn’t catch up with me. There’s something ominous about it. I don’t feel comfortable that we’re on a secluded road.

“You’re moving. With how fast you’re going, my guess is that you’re in a car, and it’s coming directly toward me.” Is that a note of hope in his voice?

Then his words sink in. “Hudson Massimo Moratti. How do you know I’m moving? And, more importantly, how are you seeing my location? Did you put a tracker on this phone?”

There’s a pregnant pause, which I use to glance again in my rearview mirror. The van is gaining on me. Damn it. “Would it make you feel better if the tracker is on the phone?”

I glance at my phone, “What are you talking about? If it’s not on the phone, then where else could you have planted a tracking device that you could be sure would always be on me and–” I trail off, my eyes dropping to my ring, more specifically, to the huge diamond. The ring he insisted I always wear. He didn’t.

“Did you put a tracker in my ring?”

He blows out a breath. “I don’t know Andrea, what do you think?”

“I think you did. It explains why the diamond is so fucking big.”

He sighs, “I don’t think you actually want to know where the tracker is, so I’m just going to let you believe it’s the ring. That might be the better option.”

“If not my phone, or the ring, where else could it be?” I wonder out loud, frowning.

“Is it really important? What’s important is that you seem to be driving to Rhode Island; let me just–” The phone slips out of my hand, and I lose the rest of his words when my car suddenly jolts forward.

“Damn it.” I glance behind me and, sure enough, that van is rushing toward me again. I press my foot on the gas. “Just who the hell are you, and what the hell are you trying to do? Kill me?

While trying to keep my eye on the road and my hand steady on the steering wheel, I bend to pick up my phone. Thankfully, Hudson is still on the call; in fact, he’s yelling now. “Andrea! What’s going on?”

“The trunk of my car just got hit by a black van. The same van that’s been following me for a while. I’m trying to outrun it, but it keeps gaining speed.”

Hudson curses viciously and shouts out rapid orders in Italian. “Hold on, pet, I’m coming. Whatever you do, make sure you stay on the phone with me and–”

My car is hit again; with the speed I’m currently going, it sends the car swerving, and I lose control. Goosebumps erupt over my body and my heart feels like it stops. Time stills as I valiantly try to remain on the road.

Fuck, what is it about this goddamn road? I glance up to see that the van is no longer behind me. No, it’s gaining speed right next to me. Oh no. This cannot be good. I squint at the man in the passenger seat; he gives me a toothy grin just as the van crashes into the side of my car and sends me spiraling into a ditch.

The seatbelt bites harshly into my shoulder blade, my belly, and my throat as my head hits the steering wheel, then pops backward to hit the headrest. I can almost feel the rush of blood to my brain as excruciating pain breaks out over my body.

Hudson’s dim roar through the phone is the last thing I hear before blackness closes in, and I lose consciousness. When I come to, I’m lying on the cold ground with a raging headache. I bite back a whimper as I press my eyes open, wondering what had happened. How did I get here? I glance around what seems to be some kind of abandoned warehouse with small windows at the top of the barren space.

I push myself to a sitting position; the room swims out of focus for a second when the headache intensifies and various other bodily pains make themselves known. Nausea builds at the back of my throat, but I try to breathe through it. The last thing I need is to vomit and have the smell haunt me till whoever took me comes back.

I have to get out of here.

I make to stand up and that’s when I realize my right leg is cuffed to a heavy metal chair. Shit. I’m so fucked.

CHAPTER 41

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