Page 57 of Ensnared
He didn’t look up from his papers. “No. You can go.”
I turned and walked out of the room, my steps as quiet as they had been when I entered. But this time, the silence felt oppressive, the weight of his words pressing down on me with every step I took.
As I reached my own room and closed the door behind me, I leaned against it, closing my eyes as I tried to steady my breathing. The fear, the doubt, the unease—they were all still there, festering beneath the surface.
I couldn't shake the feeling that Colson knew more than he was letting on. The suspicion gnawed at me, but I had to push itaside. There were too many items to tick off our list leading up to the wedding. Yet, even as I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, I made a silent vow: I wouldn’t forget. I would find out the truth.
The Ashworth name gave me power, and once it was attached to mine, I would wield it like a sword. People feared Colson, but they would fear me, too—perhaps even more.
The rest of the evening was spent buried in a book, attempting to drown out the unease swirling in my mind. The words on the page blurred as my thoughts drifted, but eventually, I shut out the light and let the quiet of the night envelop me. I was on the edge of sleep when a noise disturbed the silence.
My eyes snapped open to see a shadowy figure standing in my room. My heart pounded as I sat up, tension coiling in my chest as the figure moved closer to my bed. In the light of my nightstand clock, I could make out the features of his face.
“Colson?” My voice was tentative, shaky.
“It’s me, baby,” came the slurred reply.
The unmistakable scent of whiskey filled the air as he sat down heavily beside me, the mattress sinking under his weight. The sharp tang of alcohol clung to him, and as he leaned in, I could see the wild gleam in his eyes, full of a desire I hadn’t seen in weeks. This wasn’t the controlled, calculating Colson I was used to. This was someone different—dangerous.
Without warning, he slammed his mouth onto mine, his hand tangling in my hair with a painful grip that brought tears to my eyes. His kiss was rough, desperate, and there was an unsettling hunger in the way he moved. Colson never called me baby.
I pressed against his chest, trying to push him away as his tongue invaded my mouth, sliding over mine with a brutal force. My heart raced in fear and confusion as he grabbed my hand and shoved it against the hard bulge in his pajama pants, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he broke away from my lips.
“I want to fuck you, Josephine,” he growled, his voice thick with alcohol and lust.
I gasped as he yanked my head back, exposing my neck to the cool air. “No. We only have three days left. Please,” I begged, my voice trembling with desperation.
His grip tightened, his eyes narrowing as he spat out, “You’re mine, Joey. You’ve always been mine. From the first time I saw you walking the gardens in the dark after you graduated from Yale, I knew you would eventually be my wife.”
The words sent a shock through me, a cold wave of realization crashing over me. Vaughn’s warning from months ago echoed in my mind. The whole event Colson had planned to choose a wife—it was a farce. He had already chosen me long before.
“No,” I moaned, the truth sinking in like a dagger. “You lied.”
He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “I watched your sexy little ass in those tight shorts as you strolled among the flowers. I had to have you. You’ve grown into a beautiful, young woman. You left a teenager and returned a seductress.”
I stared at him, horrified and betrayed. The Colson I thought I knew had shattered before my eyes, revealing a darkness I hadn’t been prepared for. This was the man I was about to marry—a man who had orchestrated everything, manipulated my life to suit his desires.
And now, there was no escape.
“Why?” I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury.
Colson's grip tightened on my chin, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Why does anyone want to covet what they see?” he replied, his tone cold and dismissive.
I yanked my face from his hand, the sting of his touch fueling my anger. With a surge of defiance, I slapped him hard across the face. “I’m not an object!” I screamed, my voice cracking with the force of my emotions.
A slow, cruel smirk spread across Colson’s lips. “To me, you are,” he said, his voice laced with contempt. “I need you for my arm and to keep my bed warm. Now give me what I came for.”
Before I could react, he gripped the collar of the t-shirt I was wearing and yanked it violently, the fabric tearing down the middle. I struggled against him, but he was too strong, his body crashing down on mine and pinning me to the mattress.
Panic surged through me as he clamped down on my neck with his teeth, biting me hard enough to draw tears of pain from my eyes. He was marking me, claiming me as if I were his possession.
“Colson!” I cried out, my voice breaking with desperation. “Please. I’ll give you whatever you want, but don’t hurt me. We have the wedding,” I pleaded, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush.
For a moment, his eyes flickered, and it was as if my words had flipped a switch inside him. He suddenly released me, rollingonto his back as if nothing had happened. Within seconds, he was snoring, the sound of his deep, even breaths filling the room.
I scrambled off the bed, my hands shaking as I ran into the bathroom. I slammed the door shut and locked it, my heart racing as I slid down to the floor. The tears came in a rush, unstoppable and fierce. I buried my face in my hands and cried, the sobs wracking my body as I tried to process what had just happened.
Twenty minutes passed, but the horror and humiliation still clung to me, refusing to let go. I knew then, more than ever, that I was trapped—trapped in a life I hadn’t chosen, with a man who saw me as nothing more than a trophy to be displayed and used. And as I stared at my tear-streaked reflection in the mirror, I realized that the wedding would only cement my fate.
