Page 19 of Ensnared
But as I stepped out into the sunlight, I steeled my resolve. I was no longer just Josephine Shaw. I was the soon to be Josephine Ashworth, and I would face the future with unwavering determination.
I made my way across the expansive lawn, pausing for a moment to glance back at the modest house that had been my home for my entire life. As a child, I had often stared out the window at the grand Ashworth mansion, wondering what life was like behind those imposing walls. Now, I was about to find out firsthand.
When I reached the double doors, I hesitated before knocking, only to have Orville greet me with a nod.
"Miss Shaw, you don't need to knock," he said, stepping aside to allow me entry.
"Thank you," I replied, stepping inside just as Simone descended the grand staircase, her face contorting into a sour expression at the sight of me.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she screeched, her voice piercing the air.
In response, I lifted my hand, allowing the light to catch the dazzling engagement ring that now adorned my finger. Simone's eyes widened, her lips parting in a shocked gasp.
"OH, HELL NO!" she screamed, her outrage echoing through the foyer.
Just then, Colson stepped into view, his presence commanding the attention of the room. "Simone! You will not disrespect my fiancée, or you will lose your privileges," he said sternly.
"Fiancée?" Simone spat, her expression twisting in disgust. "Are you kidding me?"
Colson wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him, not out of affection, but to antagonize Simone further. The ploy worked, as her face scrunched up in distaste.
"I'm deadly serious," Colson continued. "You will be respectful, or you can find your own place to reside."
Simone's features shifted, displaying a mix of anger, fear, and frustration. "But she's younger than me," she whined.
"You wouldn't like anyone I chose no matter what age. You will accept Josephine into our family. Now, if you'll excuse us," Colson said dismissively, guiding me down the hall with his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.
As we entered his office, Colson turned to face me, his body pressing against mine. I held my ground, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. He then leaned in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth. I gripped his arms, feeling my legs grow weak, but I refused to give in to the sensations.
Colson pulled away, his hands cupping my face as he gazed at me with a vulnerability I hadn't expected to see. We stood in silence for a moment, the tension palpable, before he cleared his throat and stepped back, leaving me to process the intense encounter.
“Your kisses are deadly,” Colson muttered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. His hand was warm as it closed around mine, firm but not gentle, and he led me to one of the leather chairs in front of his imposing desk.
I sank into the chair, feeling the magnitude of his presence as he moved behind the desk. The atmosphere shifted, the moment of intimacy evaporating as he became all business again. Colson reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick stack of papers, placing them on the polished surface between us with a practiced ease.
“This is your prenuptial agreement,” he said, his tone clipped and professional. “Please review it.”
He pushed the document toward me, his gaze steady and unwavering. My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the pile of papers, the weight of the decision I was about to make pressing down on me like a physical force. I reached for the document, my fingers brushing against the smooth paper, but hesitation rooted me in place.
“Shouldn’t I have an attorney look it over before I sign?” I asked, my voice steady despite the anxiety churning in my stomach.
Colson didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. His eyes bore into mine, cold and calculating, as he rested his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “You’ll find I’ve been quite generous if we separate, but I don’t see that happening.”
There was an unspoken promise in his words, one that sent a chill through me. I knew what he meant—this wasn’t a marriage that would end in divorce court. Colson wasn’t the kind of man to let go once he had his grip on something—or someone. This was a union that would last until death parted us, whenever that might be.
I took a deep breath and began paging through the document, each clause and condition feeling like a chain tightening around my freedom. When I reached a section labeledNon-Negotiables, my heart stuttered. My eyes zeroed in on two words that hit me like a punch to the gut—no children.
My vision blurred as tears welled up, and I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. I had always wanted a family, a child to love and nurture. The thought of never having that chance made my heart ache.
“No children?” I managed to squeak out, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Colson’s response was immediate, his tone cold and unyielding. “I already have children, and I don’t want any more. We’ll have a good life without them.”
His words cut deep, confirming what I had suspected but refused to fully acknowledge. Colson Ashworth was a man who prioritized his own desires above all else, and this was just another manifestation of that selfishness. He was forty-seven, set in his ways, and unwilling to accommodate the dreams of a woman half his age.
“Okay,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. But it was weak, unconvincing even to my own ears.
Colson’s gaze never wavered, as if he was daring me to challenge him, to push back against the ironclad terms he had laid out. But I knew better. There was no room for negotiation, no space for my own desires in this arrangement. I was trapped, caught in the web he had spun, and any attempt to break free would be futile.
