You know the type—the titan of industry, the kind of man who could make the stock market shudder with a single phone call? The kind they write sensational biographies about? I’m his daughter. And from what I can tell, I’m the girl in the story who’s destined to lose. The childhood sweetheart who never stood a chance against the new, exciting girl who falls into the hero’s life like a lightning strike. Case in point: when my fiancé and his new favorite person were kidnapped, and the kidnappers told him he could only save one of us. “Let her die,” he said. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pointed at me, ready to send me to my death. And in that instant, something inside me snapped. I went dark. 1 I was kidnapped. But I was surprisingly calm about it. This sort of thing had a way of happening at least once a year. It’s one of the delightful perks of being the daughter of Magnus Sterling, a man whose favorite pastime is hostile takeovers. This time, however, I had company. Chloe, the precious new secretary of my fiancé, Liam. The two kidnappers had found some clean plastic forks and were trying to get us to eat something out of Styrofoam containers. Chloe was crying, turning her head away in a theatrical display of defiance. By comparison, I was a model hostage. The taller of the two goons didn’t even have to try hard with me. “Well, look at this. The little princess knows how to behave.” “Of course,” I mumbled around a mouthful of lukewarm rice and beans. “Survival of the fittest, right? You adapt, or you die.” 2 After what felt like an eternity, Liam finally arrived, his face a mask of practiced distress. “What do you want?” he demanded, clenching his fists. “Name your price. I’ll pay anything.” “We don’t want your money!” the shorter kidnapper yelled, his voice cracking. “We want a choice! You pick one. The one who stays behind dies!” “Her,” Liam said, pointing a finger straight at me. “Let her die.” He didn’t even blink. He just pushed me forward, an offering to save his own skin. I said nothing. But in the frozen silence of that warehouse, I broke. 3 The tall kidnapper gave Chloe a little shove. She stumbled toward Liam, collapsing into his arms like a damsel in a silent film. He immediately started cooing over her, stroking her hair, whispering sweet nothings. What a touching reunion. If you could ignore the fact that the man holding her was my childhood friend, my fiancé, and had just sentenced me to death. I spat the gag out of my mouth and yelled at the kidnappers behind me. “Hey! You gonna untie me, or what?” Then I turned my attention back to Liam, and the floodgates opened. “You sanctimonious, two-timing cliché! You’re juggling a fiancée your family approved of while playing footsie with your secretary under the desk? Even an octopus doesn’t have that many legs to stand on! “You feed me lines about how much you care, blurring every boundary we have, then you turn around and whisper the same tired poetry to her? God, your mouth must be exhausted, running two different scripts at once. It’s a masterclass in hypocrisy! “What, did she suck out your spine? Put a hex on you? If you had hesitated for even one second, I wouldn’t feel this overwhelming urge to send your entire family a flaming bag of dog shit! “Come on, get over here!” I snarled. “I want a closer look at that shameless face of yours!” I tried to lunge forward, only to be reminded of the ropes binding my wrists. I whipped my head around to face my captors, my expression murderous. “What are you waiting for? Get these things off me!” The shorter one flinched and scrambled to untie me. The second my hands were free, I marched straight up to Liam and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the cavernous space. Perfect. A perfect ten. “And you,” I jabbed a finger at Chloe, who was cowering behind him. “Stop hiding. Do you really think you can solve every problem by crying? The second I open my mouth, you turn on the waterworks. What were you in a past life, a sprinkler system?” I went on like that, a non-stop, creative tirade of insults, for a solid ten minutes. Every time Liam tried to leave, I’d grab his arm, haul him back, and slap him again. He didn’t seem to know how I’d gotten so strong. But he also didn’t dare try to leave again. He just stood there, his face turning a blotchy red, and took it. “God, I’m thirsty!” I fanned my face with my hand and then stuck it out behind me. “Water? A little help here?” The tall kidnapper respectfully placed a bottle of water in my hand. He clearly didn’t dare direct his anger at me, so he turned on Liam and Chloe instead. “Look what you two did! You got her all worked up!” 4 I kept the verbal assault going for another twenty minutes. Finally, I was out of breath. “Tired?” a low voice spoke from directly behind me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. A man wearing a dark, simple half-mask that covered one side of his face stood there. “Have some more water.” He put a hand on the small of my back, his body close to mine. He leaned in, his voice a murmur against my ear, like a lover sharing a secret. “Need me to make them disappear for you?” I actually had to think about it for a second. “Could you… not kill them?” The man raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” “Murder is a felony,” I said with a shrug. “But making their lives a living hell? I’m open to that.” A low chuckle escaped him. “Consider it done.” Liam’s face had turned a sickly shade of green. “Ava, don’t you dare go too far!” “Are you barking at me?” I flipped him the bird. “I think we both know who went too far. Now get out. The sight of you is ruining my mood.” “You’ll regret this, Ava!” he shouted. I kicked off one of my heels and hurled it at his head. “Regret what? Not dying for you? Get lost!” Liam grabbed Chloe’s hand and they practically sprinted out of the warehouse. The masked man gently touched my hair. “Shall I take you home?” “Sure,” I said, patting his shoulder. “Thanks, man.” It wasn’t until he pulled his sleek, black car up to the gates of my family’s estate that the absurdity of the situation hit me. Is this the new standard for hostage situations? No ransom, and a personal chauffeur service home? “Okay, what’s your angle?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “This whole kidnapping felt like a joke.” “Then maybe you should—” The man’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel. “—think of it as a game.” A psycho. Great. I rolled my eyes. Whatever. It’s not like I lost anything today. In fact, I felt like I’d gained something. “Goodbye,” I said, shutting the car door. He lowered the window. “We’ll see each other again, Ava.” 5 I walked into the house to a familiar scene. She runs, he chases, and their dramatic love knows no bounds. My mother, Catherine, was dragging a suitcase toward the front door as I entered. “Hey,” I said with a wave. She nodded, then did a double-take, the theatricality draining from her face. She dropped the suitcase with a thud. “Ava, darling! What happened to you? You’re filthy!” My father, Magnus, stormed out from his study, right on cue. “Catherine Sterling, if you dare take one step out of this house…” His line was cut short by my mother kicking him sharply in the shin. “Magnus, can’t you see our daughter is in distress?” Dad’s demeanor shifted instantly. He rushed over, his face etched with concern. “Sweetheart, what is it? Who hurt you? I’ll ruin them.” “It’s fine,” I said, giving them the condensed version of events. “I already yelled at them.” “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” my father soothed. “That Liam Prescott wanted the best of both worlds, did he? We’ll see how he likes having no world at all. Don’t worry, Dad will find you someone a hundred times better. I think it’s about time for a hostile takeover. The Prescott Group is about to go bankrupt.” A week passed. The Prescott Group was fine. Two weeks passed. Still fine. Three weeks passed. Annoyingly, stubbornly, fine. “Daddy,” I whined, grabbing his arm. “Don’t you love your little girl anymore?” A smile spread across his face, a deeply unsettling, "benevolent" smile that made my skin crawl. He patted my head. “There, there, sweetheart. The engagement is still on. There’s a big surprise waiting for you.” In his dreams. I played the part of the dutiful daughter, but secretly, I was planning my great escape. One dark and stormy night, I was halfway over the garden wall when my father, who had apparently been waiting for me, had his security team nab me. They bundled me into a car and drove me straight to a wedding venue. I spat out the cloth they’d stuffed in my mouth for dramatic effect and screamed at the heavens. “Dad, you have no honor!” 6 I got married. But the groom wasn’t Liam. It was a man I’d never seen before. I tugged on my dad’s arm while he was chatting with the stranger at the altar. “Dad, who is this?” “Your husband,” he said, slinging an arm around the man’s shoulders like they were old college buddies. “Handsome, right? Your dad has great taste.” The man looked like he was about to be strangled. I quickly intervened. “Hi, I’m Ava Sterling.” He coughed, straightening his tie. “Ethan Cole. A pleasure.” I leaned in close, lowering my voice. “How much is my dad paying you?” “Excuse me?” Ethan looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?” “Oh, come on, I get it. My dad strong-armed you with a pile of cash to stand in for the groom and save face, right?” “What makes you so sure I wasn’t a willing participant?” he asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. There was something familiar in that smile. I shook my head. A man who looked like that? I would have remembered. I glanced to the side and saw my father practically leaning on top of us, shamelessly eavesdropping. “Dad!” He didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. He just straightened his suit jacket. “I’ll just… go check on the guests. You two kids talk.” Before he walked away, he leaned in and whispered, “He’s the sole heir to the Cole fortune. He doesn’t need my money.” I froze. If he didn’t need money, and he looked like a movie star, what could he possibly want from marrying me? My charming personality? My talent for creative insults? “What I want isn’t important.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Damn it. Did I say that out loud? “The real question,” Ethan continued, his voice low and persuasive, “is what you want. Don’t you want to see that man utterly humiliated? I have to say, my credentials are… significantly better than his. “Don’t you want to see Liam Prescott become the laughingstock of the entire city?” he pressed on. “Don’t you want to join forces, crush his company, and watch him lose everything?” “I do!” I blurted out, grabbing his arm and linking it with mine. “Honey!” Either way, I came out on top. Only a fool would turn down a deal that good. Years later, I would look back on this day and want to scream at the sky. “Ethan Cole, you magnificent liar!” 7 Halfway through the ceremony, Liam and his parents walked in. No one had bothered to inform the Prescott family about the change in grooms. The smile on Liam’s face froze, then curdled. “Ava, what is the meaning of this?” I rolled my eyes. “Are those two things above your nose just for decoration? Use your eyes.” Liam’s father, his face turning a furious shade of purple, confronted my dad. “Magnus! This is hardly appropriate!” “Hold on,” my father said, his voice dangerously calm. “Are you sure you want to talk to me about what’s appropriate? Because I have a list of your son’s dirty little secrets. We can discuss them right here, in front of everyone, if you’d like.” Liam’s face flushed. “You’re lying!” “How dare you speak to my father that way!” I snapped. “Look at you, you pathetic excuse for a man. I must have been blind to ever put up with you. Not only were you cheating on me, but you were ready to let me die to save your little girlfriend!” “Say whatever you want,” Liam sneered, trying to regain some composure. “You’re the ones who broke the engagement and switched grooms at the altar.” “Enough,” Ethan’s voice cut through the tension. It was quiet, but it carried the weight of absolute authority. The room fell silent. He took a thick envelope from his pocket and tossed it onto the floor in front of Liam. A cascade of glossy photographs spilled out—candid shots of Liam and Chloe, their arms around each other, kissing, looking far too intimate. “You can’t hide what’s done in the dark, Prescott,” Ethan said, his smile laced with ice. Liam’s face went white. He lunged for the photos, but my father casually kicked them, sending them scattering across the marble floor. A few of the guests picked them up, their eyes widening. Suddenly, my accusations carried a lot more weight. Ethan was still smiling that cold smile. “Now, if security could please remove the irrelevant parties, I have a wedding to get back to.” My father signaled his security team, and a few large men efficiently escorted the sputtering Prescotts out of the hall. The ceremony continued. Ethan and I exchanged rings. “The groom may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announced. My toes curled in my shoes. This was mortifying. I didn’t know this man. “Don’t be nervous,” Ethan whispered, leaning in. “We’ll just angle it for the cameras.” As he turned his head, his profile silhouetted against the light, something clicked in my brain. A flash of memory. The half-mask. The low voice. The car. “It was you, wasn’t it?” I gasped, grabbing the lapels of his suit. “You were the one who kidnapped me.” A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “You finally remember,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “Wife.”
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