Trapped By My Ex's Ruthless Uncle

r skin. A groan slipped out as a spike of pain drilled from the base of her

eap tequila. Then-a different room. A man's voice, low and commanding, cutting through the fog i

y's eyes sn

g windows, lighting up a sprawling suite that screamed money. This wasn't her cramped Brooklyn ap

t. The cuffs hung past her hands. Peeking out from under the starched cotton, dark bruises bloomed across her collarbo

bed, legs unsteady. S

r. Her phone was gone. The absence of it scared her more than any bruise. It meant this wasn

that might tell her who the man was. Nothing. The suite was sterile, impers

dit card with no name or number, just a simple gold chip. Beside it was a thick pie

t

ership. Nausea washed over her, followed by a surge of pur

ching. She peered through the window, forty stories down to the street. A black sedan was parked across the e

gital back alleys of the internet-kicked into hig

led housekeeping, her voice strained and ho

der than Chloe, pushed a cleaning cart into the room. She look

ocked it. The click of th

, her voice low and urg

d the contents onto the bed. Three hundred dollars. Nearly everyth

pushing the cash toward the woman.

cash to Chloe's desperate face. She shook h

ne thing she had left of her mother. A simple, delicate silver chain bracelet.

silver felt warm in her palm. She pressed it int

oice cracking. "He took my phone

himmering in her hand. She saw the real terror in Chl

heap polyester scratching her skin. She instructed the woman, "Put on my hoodie. Pull the hood

aky nod. She walked to the door, took a de

, pulled the brim of the service cap low over her face. She pushed the cart int

yton Rhodes watched two video feeds on a tablet. On the left screen, he saw

said the man in

A cheap beaded bracelet dangled there. Not the simple silver chain he remembe

voice a low murmu

n in a cleaner's uniform, head bowed, pushed a cart hastily around a corner and into t

wall, gasping for breath, her body trembling with adrenaline. Free. The thought was intoxicating. Then a sharp pang shot throug

ircled the block, its tinted windows glid

nt figure. "Follow her," he told the driver. "L

y music student, expelled for academic dishonesty. Current occupation: DJ. Below th

t in their depths. He stared at the photo

urmured to himself. "Not en

f flooding her as she scrambled inside

m the curb, keeping a careful, predator