Chapter 3 Three

Georgia

“Fuck me!” I cursed, my breath catching as I nearly stumbled over a loose slab of stone on the garden path. One wrong move and the sound alone would’ve given me away. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat. Just a few feet away, three of Rhys’s guards stood with rifles slung across their shoulders, their grey suits blending with the shadows of the villa walls.

If I had tripped, if I had made one wrong sound, I’d have been dragged back in. And this time, I doubted he’d be amused enough to let me off with just threats.

I pressed myself against the cold stone wall, sucking in a shaky breath beneath the oversized hoodie I’d stolen from the closet. A black mask covered the lower half of my face, and my hair was shoved under a staff cap I’d found hanging by the laundry room. I prayed it was enough to make me look like one of the countless workers who served his gilded palace.

Step by step, I edged along the shadows, following what I remembered from pacing the villa earlier—the blind spots between the CCTV cameras. I had studied them obsessively the moment I realized escape might be possible.

It was 2 AM, the exact hour I’d been waiting for to make my escape. I’d expected fewer movements at this time, but I hadn’t imagined the place would still feel so alive, more restless even than when I’d roamed at 9 PM.

Another two guards passed in the distance. I froze, my lungs burning as I forced myself to stay still. Their voices drifted over, casual, laughing about some bet. They didn’t notice me.

My chest loosened just enough to move again. Still, I couldn’t help the disgust crawling through me at the sheer extravagance of this mansion. Honestly, who needs a building this big?

I crept past the side wing of the villa, slipped under a balcony arch, and reached the rear gates. Two delivery vans were parked just outside, idling. Perfect. Timing was everything.

As soon as one van rolled forward, the gates buzzed open. I seized my chance, tucking my head low and walking briskly behind a worker wheeling crates out. No one stopped me. No one looked twice.

And then, just like that, I was outside.

The cold Manhattan air hit my lungs like freedom itself. My knees almost buckled with relief, but I forced myself forward. A yellow cab rolled by, and I flung up my arm.

The brakes screeched. The driver leaned over. “Where to?”

“Upper East Side,” I blurted, sliding into the backseat. “Lexington Avenue.”

He shrugged and pulled into traffic.

I slumped against the seat, my whole body trembling. I’d done it. I’d actually escaped Rhys Mikhailov’s fortress.

But the taste of victory soured the moment my eyes flicked outside. A massive digital billboard loomed over Times Square as we passed, bright and blinding against the night.

My face. Next to his.

A wedding announcement. A freaking announcement. What sort of sick joke was this? God.

“THE UNION OF RHYS MIKHAILOV AND GEORGIA CARTER,” it read in bold gold letters, the date printed beneath.

I scoffed bitterly, a laugh tearing from my chest. “Unbelievable…”

The whole of Manhattan already knew. He made sure of that.

My parents… I wonder if they’d tried relentlessly to reach my cellphone—the same one I lost when Mr. Roderick, my landlord, had me brutally thrown out of my apartment.

My stomach twisted. No doubt people online would be tearing me apart now. Rhys hadn’t just trapped me in private; he had humiliated me publicly, branding me as his bride before I could even breathe.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of Edward’s brownstone, my chest felt like it was caving in.

Edward Gomez—my best friend since senior year of high school. He was a transfer student then, the son of a rich man whose father had fallen into bad debt and hidden in the countryside for a while. Somehow, his father clawed his way back, and Edward returned to Manhattan.

Edward answered the door after one knock, his dark hair messy, his shirt half-unbuttoned like I’d woke him from sleep. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Georgia?” His voice cracked. “How the hell did you—”

“Get out?” I stepped inside quickly, shutting the door behind me. “Long story. I need your help.”

His gaze darted around nervously, like he expected men in suits to storm the place at any moment. “You actually got out of Rhys’s mansion alive? Jesus Christ…”

Something in his tone made me pause. My eyes narrowed. “Wait. How do you even know I was in his mansion?”

Wordlessly, he pointed to the flat-screen on the wall.

My heart lurched. The news anchor was announcing my so-called engagement to Rhys. Images of me, of him, of that cursed invitation card, plastered across the screen. The headlines were brutal: “Reporter Turns Hypocrite—From Enemy to Bride of Manhattan’s Most Feared Man.”

I swallowed hard, shame burning hot in my veins.

Edward shook his head, panic in his voice. “Tell me you weren’t followed. Please tell me you didn’t lead them here.”

“I wasn’t,” I snapped. “I was careful. I swear.” My voice cracked as I grabbed his wrist. “Edward, please—I need to get my parents somewhere safe. If Rhys knows I escaped, he’ll go after them next. And Selene—” My throat tightened. “Selene too. He threatened to sell her into the Black Market if I don’t do what he wants.”

The Black Market doesn’t exist. We all knew that. But the way Rhys had said it, God, I couldn’t even imagine.

Edward’s face drained of color. “Jesus… Georgia…” His expression darkened. “It’s a miracle you’re not dead yet. You know I warned you, right? You should’ve listened.”

I pressed my temples, fighting tears. His threat about Selene in the black markets kept pounding in my skull. “I know. I fucking know. But this isn’t the time for blame. I need to get to my sister. She has to leave college immediately. Can I borrow your phone, please? I need to reach her as fast as possible.”

He handed me his phone. “Here.” He paused, before adding, “I’ll go get your parents. You stay here.”

I nodded, taking the phone from him. Without another word, he dashed out of the house, the door slamming behind him.

I fumbled with the phone, dialing Selene over and over. No answer. Of course not. She was overseas—China. Probably in class, phone on silent. The time difference made everything worse.

“I can’t reach her,” I whispered, pacing the room like a caged animal. My chest heaved, panic rising in sharp waves. “What if—”

A sharp buzz stopped me. The phone vibrated. An unknown number. I clicked open the message, and the world tilted beneath me.

It was a video.

Hesitantly, with trembling fingers, I tapped the video. Maybe it was from Edward. There was no way Rhys could have hacked into a phone he knew nothing about… right?

But my fear proved me right. Rhys had found me.

The video began to play—it was my sister, Selene. She was laughing with her friends as they left the lecture hall, completely unaware of the camera trained on her from across the street.

A sob ripped from my chest, and the phone slipped from my hands, clattering to the floor.

“They’ve found her,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. “Rhys has found my sister.”

My stomach twisted with a storm of thoughts. Will he abduct her? How did he find out so quickly that I was gone? It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since I left the mansion. And how the hell did he get Edward’s number?

Fear gripped me again. What if he had me tailed? Had I just put Edward in danger too?

I pushed my fingers through my hair, yanking the mask and hoodie off my face. Tears ripped through me.

“What have I done?” I muttered, remembering the warnings I’d ignored when I submitted that article on Rhys to my boss, Mrs. Lawrence. I had written it hoping for a promotion. A bold, reckless move—one I regretted now more than anything.

I hadn’t expected him to notice. I hadn’t expected it to go viral.

I was lost. I didn’t even know what to do anymore. Still crying, still torn between calling my parents or staying quiet, Edward’s phone rang. I stared at the screen, frozen, my lips trembling.

The name glowing on the caller ID made my blood run cold.

Boss Mikhailov.

Rhys. That was Rhys Mikhailov calling.

Why did Edward have Rhys’s number saved on his phone?

I picked up, my hands shaking as I pressed it to my ear.

“Hello, runaway bride,” his voice purred through the line, casual and amused. It was the same voice that had made my insides drop the first time I heard it. Now it wrapped around my fear like a snake.

My throat constricted. “If you hurt Selene—”

“She’s safe,” he cut in lazily. “For now. Her skin is unmarked. But…” His tone shifted, slow and cruel. “That can change. Easily.”

Tears slipped hot down my cheeks. “What do you want from me?”

He chuckled. “We’re not going down that road again, Georgia. You already know.”

My nails dug into my palm. “How did you even know where I was?”

“There’s no way I wouldn’t have found you, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone clipped. “But if you doubt me, step outside and see for yourself.”

My legs felt like lead as I stumbled toward the door. I pushed it open, the night air cold against my wet face.

Rhys Mikhailov was standing on the curb, a devil in a black coat, steel-grey eyes glinting beneath the streetlamps. His hand rested casually on Edward’s shoulder. Edward’s head hung low, his face drowned in shame.

He had Edward. My eyes darted around for any trace of my parents, but none. More likely Edward had never even left to get them, like he promised.

“Edward?” My voice cracked. “What… what happened?”

He raised his eyes to me, broken with guilt. “I’m sorry, Georgia. My father owes him. If Rhys found out I sheltered you before I confessed myself, it would’ve been the end of us.”

The words gutted me. I stumbled backwards in disbelief. Edward had sold me out. My best friend had.

Rhys smirked. His voice carried clearly through the night.

“Enough games, Georgia. Now get in the car.”