Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Reckless | stood in front of the door of sconference room. My hand froze in the knocking gesture, an inch away from the door’s surface. | could just act like an idiot and open the door just to see that guy's face, but all of my instincts were tellingto run the hell away from there. My heart thundered as | wondered if | should take a gamble and face the person who wanted Aren anddead. Finally, instead of barging inside, | leaned against the wall right by the door crack and tried to hear more...

“I cannot guarantee that this method will work in this specific situation.” | heard another voice coming from that room. The voice seemed calm and much softer than the voice of my kidnapper. “What we can be certain of is that the suggestion will stay engraved inside that man’s mind, and he will react to the keywords in a certain way.” “What way?!” my kidnapper roared. “The whole mission is useless if we cannot even lead him the way we want to!” Whatever it was that they were planning, it couldn't be anything good. They mentioned keywords and suggestions like they were planning to manipulate or brainwash someone... But who, and what for? Suddenly, | heard the heavy footsteps of several people walking through the corridor. | had no idea who they might be, but my brain screamed danger. | started running further along the long and spacious corridor, hearing the footsteps getting closer. It sounded like those people were just around the corner, leavinga few seconds at most to hide.

“Think, Cora! Think!” | tried to motivate my brain to fight against the increasing panic. All of a sudden, | noticed a closet room a little further away, on the opposite side of the room per was. | lurched at the door, praying that it would be open. | jerked the door handle but with no effect. The sound of the footsteps was getting more and more vivid; it was my only chance. As | rammed the door with all the strength that | had, | somehow forced it open. Thankful for the instant rush of adrenalin, | jumped inside the tiny space between the brooms and mops and closed the door, leaving only a small gap to glimpse through.

A second later, | saw five men in black suits walking through the corridor. They resembled bodyguards. Was | acting like a lunatic? There could be many people at this party who had brought their own security. Perhaps assuming that they were dangerous was a bit too farfetched. Then | started to think how idiotic a girl with a fifty- million dollar diamond on her neck hiding in a broom closet looked... While | inwardly mocked myself, those five men walked closer and then stopped in front of the door where my kidnapper was. | gulped as | discovered that my assumptions were rather correct. One man from the group stepped forward. He was shorter than the rest but had the most intimidating aura. He had short black hair, and his posture was terrifyingly familiar. | didn't have to see his face to recognize him.

“Max...” | mumbled under my breath.

I was certain that it was him. The man who had almost killedand who had caused Aren to fall into a coma was alive. The rest of the men stepped aside as if they feared him. Max gave a single knock on the door and walked into the room almost right away; the rest of the men followed him, closing the door behind them.

| stayed inside the closet, trying to steady my breath and prevent myself from having a panic attack. My whole body trembled as | was afraid to make a single step out into the corridor, terrified to get caught by someone from Max's men.

| took a series of deep breaths, calming my mind enough to think about what | had just witnessed. It becclear that Max was either working for my kidnapper or working with him. It meant that the man who kidnappedand Mr. C. could be the sperson. | found myself in the perfect place and tto find all the proofs we were looking for, but instead of eavesdropping on their conversation, | was sitting in the damn broom closet! “No, Cora. You shouldn’t act recklessly. You are no superwoman, and you should use your brain instead of muscles.... which you don’t possess,” | voiced out my rational arguments.

Nonetheless, | couldn't just sit there and waste this opportunity. | took the phone out of my purse and called Aren, marking that as an act of wisdom, but his phone was out of reach.

“Seriously?!” | muttered angrily, staring at the phone, which kept losing reception. It looked like | was out of cautious ideas. | took another deep breath, leaned my head out into the corridor, and walked out after | found it empty. | took a few quiet steps closer to the room where Max and my kidnapper were and leaned my ear against the door. It wasn’t long before | heard the harsh sound of the kidnapper’s voice...

“Listen to me, you little shithead. I'm seriously tired of hearing about this fucking great plan when it would be so much easier to just kill him.” “May | remind you that the last tyou tried that, you not only failed miserably, but we had to clean up the mess you left behind,” Max hissed. “You are lucky that the old Winton is wise enough not to talk; otherwise, you'd be in deep shit already.” | clamped my mouth with my hand, preventing myself from making a sound. They were talking about Aren and the situation with my kidnapping. But what about the old Winton that Max mentioned? Was he talking about James or Augustus? Did the Wintons know about this man who kidnapped me, or Max, or Mr. C.? Did the Wintons know from the beginning that those people wanted to killand Aren?! “I did my part. I'm not taking orders from him anymore. You can tell him that, shithead.” It sounded like the one who wanted Aren dead could barely contain his rage.

Max giggled, “Do you have a death wish, Haskett? Play nice or you will end up just like that dumb Winton did.” Haskett? Was that my kidnapper’'s name? | knew that standing by that door was reckless, but we needed to at least find out who our enemies were.

“Are you threatening me, shithead?! If this plan of yours doesn’t work, we are done!” my kidnapper snapped.

“And what about that bitch? Does she even know what to do?” he asked in a mocking tone.

“You need to worry only about your part of the deal, Haskett. We've sent you our best specialists. Make use of them and bring that fucker’s little kingdom down,” Max replied curtly.

“That's not enough for me. He needs to pay for what he has done to my sister. | want him dead. “Haskett’s low growl sent shivers down my spine.

Who were they talking about?! What kind of specialists?! What did Aren have to do with Haskett’s sister?! My heart almost burst out of my chest while | listened to those men inside planning to hurt my husband and destroy his business. | felt helpless and terrified. My instincts kept tellingthat | needed to get out of there, but the pieces of information I'd just heard weren't tellinganything about their plan.

“You will do what Mr. C. wants. Got that? Now, go out there and socialize. We put too much money into your company. You need to make it worth it,” Max chuckled, his steps sounding louder as if he was walking toward the door.

“Shit,” | muttered under my breath and started running back to the ballroom.

| had barely run around the corner when | heard the sound of the opening door behind me. | prayed that no one would notice me. | kept running until | found myself among the crowd of people. “Aren!” | called out, my eyes desperately looking for my husband.

About a hundred people stood there laughing and drinking champagne. | ran to the middle of the ballroom but couldn’t see Aren anywhere. | couldn't see Alastair and his wife either. | started running from side to side without any luck. I ran out in front of the hotel, wondering if he hadn't gone outside to grab sair, but there was no one there. Shivering in anxiety, | pulled out my phone and tried my luck calling my husband. As the waiting signal beeped, | heard the phone’s buzzing sound at the stime. Was Aren somewhere near me? | turned around, followed the source of the sound, and then looked down at the ground to find Aren’s phone. | picked it up with my trembling hand.

“Aren?!” | called out before covering my mouth with my hand to silence my weeping. “Oh, my God... Have those bastards done something to him?!”