Camilla’s POV
It was an iron chain, each thread bonded me closer to a future in which I had no desire to be.
Every time I looked in the mirror, I could hardly recognize the girl standing back.
My eyes, once bright and alive, shone dull with nothing but dread.
My lips colored crimson red wobbled with words which, with rendition, I couldn’t say.
Now, this was to be the day that I married a man I despised, a man who treated me no better than as a pawn to make himself look good.
My hand ran over the silky fabric of the thing, soft to the touch of my fingers, yet it could have been anything, so ordinary.
What was to be a day of love and joy had become an endless nightmare from which I couldn’t awaken.
I couldn’t run away.
My father made certain of that.
He left explicit instructions for his men to see that my arrival at the Lockwood estate was to be as smooth as it could possibly be, no mistakes, no excuses.
“Miss Camilla, it’s time,” Hannah whispered from the door.
I didn’t run.
My feet seemed glued into this spot, my tummy rolling with fear.
My heart shrieked to fight, to crawl out somehow, but I couldn’t.
I had nothing, no cell phone, no friends.
Dante… I hadn’t seen him for days.
Had he even been informed?
Did he care?
The guards flanked me as I stepped out into the hall, with every step forward seeming to take me closer to sealing my fate in front of each one of their stares.
“Let’s go,” one growled.
I balled my fists, forcing back the urge to strike.
For what?
It wasn’t like my father hadn’t already taken every last bit of control from me.
I was a puppet, and today he’d pull the strings to give me over to the Lockwoods.
My breath caught in my throat as we went down the grand staircase and out into the perfect sun.
It was a sleek, black car that waited for me at the door, the final ride to the end of my freedom.
The guards escorted me into the back seat, and on reflection, my eyes went to the horizon where indeed a wish rose in my mind for some sort of miracle.
Maybe Dante would appear riding on a wave of fury and determination.
But the road lay empty.
He’s not coming.
The car peeled away and I laid my forehead against the window, my heart welling up in pain.
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to cry.
This was my life now.
I had to face it.
I have no one left.
**********
Dante’s POV This story is hosted at g.com.
There was something off.
I’d paced my office until my stomach had twisted in knots, the phone clutched in my hand.
Camilla hadn’t said a word in days and every call was a dial tone.
Not her.
If she could, she would have phoned.
Would have contacted me.
My fist connected with the desk and the wood groaned.
“Where the hell is she?”
Boss, one of my pale-faced men shouted as he burst into the room, we got a tip from the mansion.
Camilla’s on her way to the wedding.
My blood ran cold.
“What wedding?”
“The one her father arranged. She’s being delivered to Tom Lockwood as we speak.”
It was an overwhelming feeling, my eyes bobbing in and out of focus.
That son of a bitch.
Was that what she was running from?
Her father just used her hand.
I stormed to the door, my heart racing as I snatched my jacket off the back of the couch.
Wasn’t going to happen.
I couldn’t let him take her.
“Get the men ready,” I ordered, tone unyielding.
“We’re going after her. Now.”
The men surged upward, hooking up arms and vehicles.
Time was running out, but I would stop this.
There was simply no other option.
I have to stop this wedding, and I have to get Camilla and Jasper back before it is too late.
The convoy roared down the road, my hands whitening over on the wheel, tighter with each passing second.
Camilla was out there, scared and alone.
The image of her stepping into that mansion, into the clutches of Tom Lockwood, twisted my chest with fury.
“She’ll be on this road,” one of my men said, peering at a GPS.
“They’re about ten minutes ahead.”
“Not for long,” I growled and smashed my foot down on the gas pedal.
The car leaped forward, the engine pummeling against me.
I wasn’t going to let her be delivered up like some sacrifice to the greater good, not while I had anything to say about it.
As we made the bend up ahead, I saw the convoy, three black cars in wedge formation as they flew toward the Lockwood estate.
I furrowed my brow.
“Move in,” I ordered.
The sound of squealing tires filled the air as we came upon them, our vehicles boxing them in.
I could feel the panic in his face, then, as he hit the brakes.
Already my men were jumping from their vehicles, guns drawn, and a short, brutal firefight erupted.
I saw her; Camilla, in the back of the second car, her face white as bedlam erupted around her.
I didn’t waste a beat.
Running toward her, bullets flying through the air, a step in front of me and one of John’s men reached forward tucking his weapon up.
I took him down with one hit, crumpling him to the ground.
“Dante!” Camilla shrieked.
Her eyes were wide with shock and relief.
I went for the car door, yanking it open.
The guards inside tried to grab her, but I wasn’t giving them the chance.
I cold-cocked the nearest one with a swift punch.
“Camilla, come on!” I yelled.
She didn’t seem to take a second longer before throwing herself into my arms.
Her body shook against mine, clasped tightly as my heart jackhammered in my chest.
She was safe.
For now.
“I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come,” she whispered, shaking.
I framed her face and made her face mine.
“I’ll always come for you, Camilla. Always.”
And instantly her eyes brimmed with tears, and for one fleeting instant there, I almost saw something akin to fear and desperation.
She had been through hell, and I was sure it was because of her father, and the Lockwoods.
“We have to go,” I said, and then looked around.
Most of the guards were down, but this was the work of my men for sure; certainly, more would arrive.
Tom would not let things go so easily.
Camilla nodded, clinging tight to me as I ushered her in the direction of our car.
We were just about to get in when a shrill sound cut through the air.
I turned in time to see another convoy barreling down the road.
More men.
Get in,” I said, pushing Camilla into the passenger seat.
I jumped behind the wheel, my heart fluttering, and turned the key in the ignition so that it roared to life.
Through the rearview mirror, I could tell the convoy was catching up on us, which meant we really had to get going.
“Dante, what are we going to do?” Camilla asked, shaking.
I said nothing for a time.
My eyes didn’t leave the road, didn’t leave the menace squirming onto us.
What needed to be done weighed hard on my chest.
Finally, I turned to her, my voice at a low evenness.
“Don’t worry, leave this to me.”