Page 52 of Ensnared
Easton wasn’t home—he’d gone off to the Hamptons, escaping whatever demons haunted him. The house felt emptier without him, but maybe that was a good thing. No cries in the night, no tortured whispers seeping through the walls. I hadn’t seen Simone since our tense encounter by the pool, and Vaughn had been keeping his distance too. It was as if the whole house had taken a collective breath and was holding it, waiting for something to happen.
I climbed into bed, the fresh sheets cool against my skin. The maid had changed them; the crispness was a reminder that this life, with its luxuries and conveniences, was still foreign to me. For years, I’d done everything myself—cooking, cleaning, caring for my family as they worked long hours. It had been hard, but I hadn’t minded. It kept me grounded, kept me focused on something other than the aching void where my dreams used to be.
But now, as I let myself sink into the mattress, I realized how far away that life felt. This bed, these sheets, this house—they were mine now, but they didn’t feel like it. Not yet, maybe not ever.
Sleep came quickly, pulling me under with a heaviness I couldn’t fight. I drifted, peaceful for once, until I felt the bed shift and warm arms wrapped around me. My eyes fluttered open, my heart pounding in the sudden stillness.
"Colson?" I whispered, my voice betraying the surprise I felt.
He chuckled softly. "Were you expecting someone else?" His tone was casual, almost too casual, like he was testing the waters.
I swallowed, forcing myself to relax into his embrace. "No, of course not."
It was true—I wasn’t expecting anyone. Colson didn’t usually come to my room at night, didn’t make a habit of invading this one last sanctuary I had. But tonight was different. I could feel it in the way his hands moved over me, possessive and sure.
He smelled clean, fresh from a shower, the scent of citrus and spice wrapping around me, drawing me in. I leaned into him, pressing my nose against his skin, but before I could lose myself in that comforting scent, he captured my mouth in a kiss. It was demanding, insistent, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I parted them for him.
He tasted like mint and something else, something that sent a shiver down my spine. "I enjoyed today," he murmured against my lips, his hand slipping inside the open shirt, fingers finding my breast with a familiarity that made my breath hitch. He kneaded gently, his thumb brushing over my nipple, sendingsparks of sensation shooting through me. "I thought we should get used to sleeping in the same bed."
I stiffened at his words, the implications clear. This wasn’t about comfort or closeness—it was about power. It always was with Colson. The day had been a calculated effort, a way to soften me, to get me to lower my guard. And now, here he was, pushing further, testing the boundaries of what I would allow before our wedding day.
"Thank you for taking me," I said, my voice steady even as my mind raced. I had to be careful, had to navigate this moment without giving too much away. He was playing a game, and I was the prize, but I couldn’t let him win so easily.
His hand tightened on my breast, a silent acknowledgment of the line I was drawing. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You’re welcome. But remember, Joey, the sooner you let go, the easier this will be."
I didn’t respond, couldn’t trust myself to say the right thing. Instead, I stayed still, letting him explore, all the while reminding myself that this was just another step in the dance we were both performing. But inside, a part of me recoiled, fighting against the inevitability of it all.
Colson pressed one last kiss to my lips before pulling away, his hand slipping out from under the shirt. "Goodnight, Joey," he said, his voice a mixture of satisfaction and danger.
"Goodnight, Colson," I replied, watching as he stood and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering sensation of his touch on my skin.
As the door clicked shut, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. This was my life now, my reality. And I had to beready for whatever came next, no matter how much it terrified me.
Today was supposed to be a break—a rare free day. I’d be working until the afternoon, then heading home with Colson. But the highlight was lunch with Logan. It had been weeks since I’d seen him; he’d been in Los Angeles, training for his new position at the AFC office. Lunch together was a tradition, a slice of normalcy in the chaos my life had become. I couldn’t wait.
As noon approached, anticipation bubbled inside me. I could already picture Logan’s easy smile, the way his presence always made everything seem more manageable. But just as I was about to wrap up, a sharp scream cut through the air, shattering my calm. My heart jumped into my throat, and I bolted from my office, nearly colliding with Vaughn as I stumbled into the hallway.
"Walk much?" Vaughn sneered, sidestepping me with a flicker of disdain in his eyes.
His tone was a stark contrast to our last encounter at the mansion, where he’d been almost civil. Now, his voice dripped with venom, his anger barely concealed. I knew why—my wedding to Colson was just days away, and Vaughn was clearly not happy about it. Ignoring his hostility, I continued down the hall, my steps quickening as I headed toward Colson’s office.
The door was ajar, and inside, Simone was in full meltdown mode, her voice sharp and grating as she screamed at her father. She was furious, railing against Colson for cutting off her use of the company jet and placing limits on her credit card. It wasa tantrum fit for a spoiled heiress, but Colson sat there calmly, stroking his chin as if he were watching a mildly amusing show.
Simone didn’t need his money—she had a substantial trust fund and earned a decent salary at AFC. But entitlement ran deep in the Ashworth family, and any restriction felt like a personal attack. When she spotted me hovering in the doorway, her anger shifted like a laser, and she lunged in my direction, eyes blazing.
"This is your fault!" she screamed, acid in every word. "You told him to do it, you gold-digging bitch! You’re the reason he’s like this! I will never accept you!"
I backed away instinctively, my heart pounding. Simone was out of control, and for a moment, I thought she might actually hit me. But before she could reach me, Colson’s moved and his arm shot out, grabbing her by the wrist. He yanked her back, dragging her into his office, and slammed the door shut with a finality that left me standing there, frozen.
Vaughn was right behind me. I barely registered his presence until I stumbled into him. This time, he didn’t move away. Instead, he loomed over me, his presence oppressive, his eyes filled with accusation.
"You see what you’re causing," he hissed, his breath hot against my ear.
I tried to walk away, but he followed, pushing me into my office and closing the door behind us. The air in the room felt stifling, suffocating.
"I didn’t invite you in here," I snapped, trying to mask the trembling in my voice. "You have nothing constructive to offer me. Do you think I chose this?"
The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill over, but I blinked them away, refusing to break in front of him. Vaughn’s hand cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. He stepped closer, his cologne—a heady mix of cedar and pine enveloping me.
