Page 137 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

“You’ll fight this,” Pat said. “You’ll fight for her.”

“We’ve seen you in action before,” Nicole said. “It’s what you do best.”

I couldn’t be more grateful for these women who had faith in me. It was why I’d connected with them in the first place. They’d helped me in unexpected ways before, but never like this. Maybe because I’d never felt this hopeless, not even when Grandfather had died.

I soaked in their confidence in me. They were right; I was a fighter. Whether it was on the ground or hand-to-hand, I’d give this face-off everything I had. I’d find her, and then I’d makea new pact with Ulrich, one where he couldn’t manipulate the terms because he’d be too dead to do so.

It was as simple as that.

I got a text from Hawk a short while later, saying that he and Ella were coming, too. River added his support next, and then Adrian. I was emboldened by their support and completely heartened.

Actually, it was a good thing my friends were coming. I didn’t want to end up in jail right along with the loser who seemed hellbent on destroying all our lives. So, no. I wouldn’t kill him. But my friends were coming to Eureka Springs. We were stronger together than we were apart.

I was going to find Rosabel. And then Ulrich was going to pay for thinking he could touch her.

THIRTY-FIVE

rosabel

I didn’t knowwhere I was. My head was swimming, and a dizzy ache thrummed at the base of my skull. I reached my hand to the back of my head, unsure of what I’d find.

“It will wear off soon. Glad you’re finally coming to.”

The voice was vaguely familiar. “Eu—Eudora?”

I was lying on a couch of some kind and blinked at the bleary face hovering over me.

“If I can recover, you can,” she said.

“What do you mean ‘recover’? Recover from what?” I attempted to sit up, but my head spun all over again. Wincing, I sank back down again.

Her gray hair hung around her shoulders. She wore a simple pair of blue pants and a button-up shirt covered in flowers. She sat in a wooden chair positioned beside the couch.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

Vaguely, thoughts returned. Memories blurred into being. Duncan’s grandma’s party; Duncan defending me—looking smoking hot; being approached by a man wearing a hoodie. A man with startling green eyes.

“He took me,” I said. Pockets of fear erupted within me. “He took me!”

I grew frantic. I darted to my feet and made for the door. The knob wouldn’t give. I wrenched it. I pounded my fists against the orangey wood.

“Open the door!” I shouted. “Let me out!”

“They won’t listen.”

I’d almost forgotten about my companion. Breathless, I whirled to face Eudora while a new realization swept over me. She’d said something about recovering. Had—had whoever taken me taken her, too?

She sat, looking unfazed, in the same wooden chair she’d been in before. I took in more of the room this time. The wooden paneling near the window—which was blocked.

“Where’s Duncan?” I asked.

“He’s not here,” she said. “He probably doesn’t know where you are.”

“And where am I?”

“The Painted Lady.”

I scanned the room once more. “You’re kidding.”

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