“You sure I should be out in public?” Sam asked. “Relax,” Vince said with a predatory grin. “Cops don’t bother me in my own place. We have understandings. You come, and bring your pretty girl with you.” Emily liked the guest house well enough. It sat deep in the woods, far from prying eyes and city noise.
“We’re going to Vince’s party tomorrow,” Sam said the next day. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think of a gift for a man who already has everything—especially on our budget.” “Maybe we should say we’re tired and skip it,” Emily suggested. “This feels risky.” “He personally invited us,” Sam said. “You don’t insult a man like that. A driver’s picking us up tomorrow.”
The next day they bought a tasteful antique gift and headed to the club. The place was packed with wealthy, well-connected guests. Vince sat at the center of a long table, accepting expensive presents. “Glad you made it,” he said, coming over to them himself.
“And by the way, someone should be arriving soon who has real leverage over your Richard.” “You really think that snake is going to confess and take my place?” Sam asked skeptically. “A confession? No,” Vince said. “But getting him to shift blame onto another patsy? That’s more realistic. The right guy’s coming. We’ll talk.”
Vince stepped away, but returned a minute later with a look of alarm. Sam understood immediately: something was wrong. “What happened?” he asked. “Two very suspicious guys are hanging around the bar,” Vince said through clenched teeth. “Go out through the kitchen. Leave the girl here for now.
I may have made a mistake bringing you out tonight.” Sam glanced into the room and saw at once that Vince was right. Two broad men in plain clothes stood out sharply from the party crowd. “Stay quiet and don’t panic,” he whispered to Emily, kissing her temple before heading toward the back.
The loud music covered everything. None of the guests seemed to notice. Only Emily and Vince watched Sam go. He was just a few steps from the service door when several men in plain clothes grabbed him at once. They pinned him expertly, and a second later Emily heard the unmistakable click of handcuffs.
“Sam!” she cried, lunging toward him. “Let him go!” “Stop,” Vince hissed, yanking her back by the arm. “You want to go down with him? You can’t help him. You’ll only make it worse.” Emily collapsed into a chair, shaking with sobs.
Her worst fear had come true. She had lost the man she loved again, and this time there seemed to be almost no hope left. “Why is this happening to us?” she whispered. “I prayed for him every day.” “Enough,” Vince said coldly. “Come with me. You need something to calm down.” He led her through a maze of back hallways.
He pushed her into an empty kitchen and called over the head chef. “Yes, Mr. Vaughn?” said a heavyset woman with kind eyes. “Take care of my guest,” Vince ordered. “Give her something strong and don’t let her out of your sight. If she disappears, that’s on you.” “Understood,” the woman said quickly.
As soon as he left, she quietly locked the kitchen door. She knew her boss’s temper and had no intention of taking chances. “Who is that poor boy to you?” she asked, nodding toward the dining room while reaching for a bottle. Seeing that Emily was in no condition to answer, she poured a generous glass of wine.
“Drink,” she said firmly. “This stuff works better than any sedative.” Emily obeyed automatically, the wine burning her throat. “Good,” the woman said, refilling the glass. “Now tell me how you ended up in a mess like this.”
“It’s a long story,” Emily said through tears. “That’s all right. The party’s going till morning. Talk. It helps.” And so Emily told her everything. The alcohol and the woman’s sympathy dulled the pain a little, but the knowledge that Sam was back in custody still burned inside her.
“Well,” the woman said, shaking her head, “you’ve been through more than most. Poor kid. So what’s your plan now?” “I don’t have one,” Emily admitted. “I guess I have to trust Vince’s connections.” “Honey,” the chef said in a low voice, “take it from an older woman. Stay away from men like that.
If your own blood can betray you, what do you think hardened criminals will do?” “I understand,” Emily said quietly. “And stop crying in front of predators,” the woman added. “They smell weakness.” “I’ll remember that,” Emily said, sitting up straighter.
The chef tore a page from a notepad, scribbled down a phone number, and slipped it into Emily’s jeans pocket. “Hide that. If things get bad, call me.” Just then, Vince came back in, looking pleased. He gave both women a quick once-over and nodded.
“Feeling better? Good. There’s a man waiting in my office—the one who’ll deal with your husband. Come meet him.” “All right,” Emily said, forcing herself to stand. Vince led her into a luxurious office where a silver-haired man in an expensive suit sat comfortably in a leather chair. Then Vince left them alone.
“Victor,” the man said briefly. “So you’re Richard Collins’s legal wife?” A cynical smile touched his lips. “Only on paper,” Emily said. “I ran from him the night we got married. Please tell me—can you help Sam? Can you make Richard confess?” “Let’s be realistic,” Victor said with a laugh. “Richard is not easy to corner. But if you cooperate, we may be able to pull his strings. Are you in?”
“What exactly do you want from me?” Emily asked cautiously. “And let me be clear—I’m not going back to that man’s bed.” “No need to get ahead of ourselves,” Victor said. “Get some sleep. We’ll discuss details tomorrow.” “Fine,” Emily said.
Left alone, she felt like a pawn in someone else’s dirty game. No one seemed to be rushing to save Sam. Music pounded through the walls, guests drank expensive liquor, and no one cared in the slightest about the lives being broken around them.
“How’d it go?” Vince asked, poking his head into the office. “He wants to talk details tomorrow,” Emily said. “Good. No need to go anywhere. You’ll stay at my place for now,” Vince said in a tone that made clear it wasn’t a suggestion. “Thank you, but I’d rather rent a small studio,” Emily replied. “I don’t want to impose.”
“A studio?” Vince said. “No. We’re trying to get Sam out, and I need you close by. I’m not chasing you all over town. And relax—I’ve got a wife and kid. As far as they’re concerned, you’re my son’s new nanny. I fired the last one a couple days ago.” “All right,” Emily said, giving in.
