Page 45 of Submit

Then I hear the sliding glass door.

My breathing increases and I flinch when I feel the weight of Will’s hand on my shoulder. “Something you want to tell me, Libby?”

“Not at all.” Somehow, I manage to keep my head held high and my eyes on his. It’s stupid to poke the bear, but I’m so happy to feel the fire of my old self that I’m willing to risk it. Odd though, I may die today andnowI want to wake up and really live.

Maybe this is what it was always going to take for me to wake the fuck up. If that’s true, then I’m grateful for this twisted chain of events. For now, though, I just want to get to Cas.

“It doesn’t matter,” Will’s voice snaps me back to my current situation, “I know everything, sweetheart. I always have. More so than you.” He runs his hand over the back of my head before coming to stand in front of me. “I just hope you realize that you’re trading in a man withsomesemblance of a moral code for the devil himself.” He tugs on the sleeves of his suit jacket as he starts to pace. “Dominic Hielo is a ghost. He’s been on the run for almost twenty years and I assume he didn’t mention that he killed his own sister, while you two have been getting cozy, hm?” He pauses to scan my face for any surprise or evidence that I lied about…Dominic? Stoically, I keep my features unreadable.

You want war? Bring it, bitch. You don’t know me like you think you do.

Will continues, “I currently have the pleasure to be in business with his parents and I’m sure Mommy and Daddy are going to be interested to know their missing son is not only alive, but so close to home.”

I want to screamNO! and slap the smug look off of Will’s face. I’m rocked by how strongly I want to put him down permanently for threatening Cas. Instead, I take a deep breath to slow my heart rate and reply calmly, “I don’t know what or who you’re talking about, but do whatever you feel is necessary.”

He chuckles. “You’re awfully calm about being caught red handed,Libby.” He’s circling me like a vulture. My muscles tense, ready to fight back.

“I think the stress of work has finally caught up to you,Will. Perhaps you should take a week off. I wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardize your progress…like, for example, involving a Venezuelan crime boss.” It’s weak but it’s all I have as I try to dissuade him from telling Casper’s parents that he’s here. Above all, I can’t let him know that that would devastate Cas.

“So youdoknow the Hielo family.” A statement, not a question.

“Of course I do. Everyone does. I’m just not sure what they have to do with you and I and the windfarm.” Let’s see what a little honesty gets me. Obviously, he already knows more than I thought.

“Considering the fact that you’re fucking their missing son, who’s a little old for you by the way, I’d say they have a lot to do with us.”

I wish.

I school my features and refuse to rise to the bait about Casper’s age. I willnotgive Will the satisfaction.

“I’m not fuckinganyone, Willem. Including you. This little chat is proving that I don’t evenknowyou.”

“Oh, but I knowyou. There was a time when I thought maybe I could make you mine and tell the Hielos to go fuck themselves. You are quite stunning. But you just can’t behave despite my efforts to train you, can you?” It’s a rhetorical question so I stay silent. “After I found your little internet search, I thought about just giving you to them and being done with your headaches, but then I learned that Dominic is on the island. Now I think I’ll hold out for you both. The reward for one was going to be great – not that I needed the money, mind you, but having the most powerful carteloweme a favor? That would be priceless.”

I can’t help the confusion that crosses my features at his words. What does Casper’s family want withme? How do they even know me? My traitorous mouth lets the words escape, desperate for knowledge.

“Why does a crime family in South America have any interest in me?” Keep me for himself? Did he ever love me or have I always been part of some bigger plan?

“I’m not interested in providing answers.”

I fight the urge to stomp my feet and launch myself at his face. “Then I’m not interested in being a bargaining chip.”

His slow smile churns my stomach. “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.” He makes a show of looking at his watch. “I’ve got a meeting, but I wouldn’t go far if I were you, Libby. If you do, I’ll find you and you’re already in a lot of trouble.” Before he closes the door, he turns back to me. “Just remember, you chose this.”

Did I though? Had I known who Will was from the beginning I don’t think I would have chosen this, or him. If everything was as Ithought, there would have been no need to choose this. Whateverthisis. Is he talking about Casper? Surely, he isn’t talking about the move to Aruba, because I definitely didn’t choose that, and hell, looking back, I’m starting to think I didn’t even chooseWill.He blindsided me, played me, controlled me, buried the real me, and then made me dependent on him. Narcissism at its finest.

I sit immobile on the lounge chair taking deep breaths until I hear the garage door on the side of the house rise. I walk to the edge of the deck and peer over it in time to see Will backing the Range Rover out of the garage. The car stops and I see Will lean up to straighten his tie in the rearview mirror right before the smug bastard blows me a kiss.

Since he’s leaving me here, I briefly wonder if he has the house wired to blow up.

Now there’s something I never thought I’d wonder about my own fiancé.

Once he pulls away, I rush inside and yank my suitcase out of the closet throwing everything I own in it. I don’t know what I’m going to do for money just yet but I take the cash we keep on hand and tuck it in my purse.

I glance at the clock, 7:54 a.m. I have just over an hour until I meet Casper. God, I hope he’s okay. I hope this isn’t a trap. Maybe Will knows he’s coming for me?

The wait is almost unbearable and finally at 8:48 I place my phone on the table with my ring and forgo sending the message to Will that I’m supposed to. No need to tip him off that I’m gone.

After two and a half years, noI love you. NoI wish you the best.Instead, I’m deeply tempted to type:Fuck you. I wish you’d go to hell where you belong, but I’ve been playing with a lot of fire recently and I see no need to pour gas on the flames.

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