Page 25 of Snowed in with the Billionaires

I have to think about this rationally. It’s still snowing outside, quite badly. There’s only one way off this mountain, and it’s in their high-tech helicopter. I can only make escape plans once they move me to a second location. They’re not going to just let me go.

I’m their enemy. A thief from the wrong side of society who actually tried to steal from them by drugging them. I’m the dirt on their shoes. In a normal situation, I’d be the person who cleans their house and uses the back door to leave their property. Well, I’m proud of who I am, so they can screw themselves.

“What’s going to happen to me?” I ask.

“Nothing, Madisyn. Ever,” Ren says as he closes the distance between us and strokes my cheek. It’s hard for me to believe his calm, gentle words. I am not that much of a fool.

I sense a blanket of tension in the air, not between them, but from the calls they’re making in the living room. I can’t hear what they’re saying, except that they’re setting up to meet their lawyer.

What have I done to myself?

I dress in silence, gather up my things, and meet them in the living room. The helicopter is waiting for us. It’s unbearably cold as we make the journey to the landing pad. But I hardly feel the frost when Kaiser takes off his ridiculously expensive coat and drapes it over my shoulders, enveloping me in the scent of his cologne.

I try to drown myself in my own thoughts, doing my darndest not to look at them during the flight, but I fail miserably. And if I’m not looking at them, how would I have known they were watching me?

I’m both shocked and confused when they take me back to their house. The actual house in which they live. Oh, but this isn’t a friendly visit. They don’t shower me with their stellar hospitality. Tell me to make myself at home.

They introduce me to their housekeeper, Helda, a pleasant-faced older woman, and two bodyguards, who they make clear they trust with their lives. I have no idea why that matters, except to mean I am not going anywhere.

Once they leave their house again, I’m escorted to a bedroom that’s utterly luxurious. If I weren’t a prisoner, I would think I was a princess. And then I hear the door lock.

Yes, I am unequivocally their prisoner.

Hours go by. I’m brought food, drinks, and snacks. None of which I eat. I try to plot my escape. The window is out of the question. The sleek architectural design of the mansion means there’s nothing for me to hold on to if I wanted to climb down from the second story. And since I can’t fly... well.

I try to take a nap. I can’t. So I pace. They have to tell me something. They can’t just keep me here locked up. After a few more hours, I go mad.

I bang on the door with all my might. If they’re going to hand me over to the police for breaking and entering, intending to do harm, I wish they would just do it already. If they’re going to punish me personally, they should get to it as well. Those are the only two alternatives available to me. Tears pool in my eyes at the stupid fantasy still roaming around in my head for them.

I give myself a mental slap, forcing myself to swallow those stinging tears at the corners of my eyes. I’m never going to be anything like the women who are waiting for them in their world. Stunning, sophisticated, rich heiress types who know how to use each of the ninety-nine forks served at dinner.

I am who I am. Those women belong here. I don’t. I need to be focusing on how I can escape. But how? I’m in the middle of a pacing frenzy when the door unlocks and a stream of people enters, pushing in racks of clothing.

“Good evening, lovely miss,” Helda says, her eyes sparkling. “You’ll be dining with Mr. Dane, Mr. Knight, and Mr. Martin tonight.”

Chapter Sixteen

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