Page 13 of A Princess, Stolen (A Kiss of Revenge, Blood, and Love #1)
Wood creaked under heavy footfalls like those of rough boots that seemed to circle me.
The man was surely inspecting me from all sides as if I were a jewel that his men had given him as a gift.
“ My most precious treasure ” was what Dad often called me jokingly.
I was getting colder and sweating from every pore.
“You’re Willa Nevaeh Rae Hampton?” He was in front of me.
“Yes,” I whispered, intimidated. Someone in the background laughed maliciously. Another coughed his lungs out.
“You’re nineteen years old, to the day, and your father is Nicholas Garrett Hampton.
” I nodded. He obviously hadn’t expected an answer since he continued speaking.
He must have been alongside me now. “Your father owns the Hampton Oil Company in Canada near McMurray and the North Atlantic tanker fleet as well as several villas; one in Monaco, one in Tokyo, one in Pattaya, one in Bar Harbor, and one in Baton Rouge.” Baton Rouge was said with a hint of mockery, no idea why.
I drew wild spirals on my dress like a madwoman, a picture of fear and confusion.
He knew so much and I knew nothing. He seemed to have gone around me a second time because I could feel him in front of me.
Too close. Much too close. I could smell him, a horrible mixture of salt water, oil, and wet rope.
Oh God!
“Your father not only owns the oil sands industry and the tanker fleet, but he also has several private armies stationed abroad, shares in Silka Chemical Industries, Berkshire Hathaway, and so many luxury cars that it would bore me to list them all, correct?”
“Correct,” I replied softly even though I had no idea about my dad’s shares.
“Estimated net worth: fifty billion dollars.”
More or less . I thought of Dad’s laughter and tears welled up in my eyes. Someone whistled loudly through their teeth and voices rose up. Deep male voices, uncouth and coarse. “Dirty bastard.” “We’ll show him!” “Son of a bitch!”
I flinched at every word as if I’d been struck. I’d never met men like them. They didn’t exist in my life because they had no access to the upper class. Not even the lower; they were socially nothing. Criminal scum.
With my heart fluttering, I wrapped my arms around myself and felt the most important question trembling within me. It had shriveled with fear, seemingly only an echo in the fog of my perception.
Will I survive? And if so, how?
I didn’t dare ask because I was terrified of the answer. I swallowed. “My dad…my father…he will do anything to protect my life.” I was blind and helpless, so my father’s money was the only bargaining chip I had. “He’ll pay any amount.”
The man in front of me took a step toward me.
He had to be tall, at least as tall as Dad, six feet four inches at least. Again, I smelled salt and oil and felt his gaze.
It bored into me and a rush of his emotions washed over me as if he were pouring them out over me.
Contempt. Hatred. Then a spark of blind rage crackled dangerously against my skin.
I felt him move, perhaps raise his arm, so out of reflex, I parried and slapped it away, perhaps more by accident.
Amused, the men laughed. I heard “Wowowo!” and “She showed you!” and before I knew what was happening, my jaw was grabbed. Firmly.
Now I didn’t dare move. I received his anger with a pinch of appreciation, but it flew away the longer he held me or maybe I was merely imagining his feelings.
“So, any amount,” he finally drawled, turning my head left and right as if I were a broodmare whose value he had to assess. “Are you certain you’re not mistaken about your dear daddy?” He must have leaned far down to me because his breath brushed my face like a wave of seawater.
I felt sick. “He’ll pay, most certain…”
“Okay. If you say so!” He let go of me abruptly causing me to stagger, but I managed to steady myself.
Still, I was disoriented and flinched when his voice came from an unexpected direction.
“How much do you think your life is worth to him? A million? A billion? Twenty billion?” The floor creaked under his boots as if he was rocking back and forth.
“I don’t know.” I was so cold, so dizzy.
“Then think about it. What would you give to save the life of someone you love?”
My mouth went dry and my eyes watered under the cloth. I blinked again and again. “Everything I own.”
The creaking stopped. He obviously had paused. “And if that wasn’t enough?” he asked rather darkly.
The high screeching of seagulls sailed overhead.
“My life,” I whispered.
“Exactly.”
Silence followed. Deep and ominous.
“You want his life in exchange for mine?” I asked at some point, horrified and shaken to the core.
“You said it. I was merely showing you what you risked today. Your life. Now we’ll see what he’s willing to sacrifice for you.”
I felt myself blanching. Oh please! They weren’t allowed to ask that! Above all, it made no sense at all. If they wanted Dad dead, they could have shot him right then and there!
“If he dies, you won’t get any money,” I gasped.
“Oh, you don’t say!” He laughed, and for a tiny moment, a memory flickered in my mind. I saw the shaded gardens of Rosewood Manor, the hopscotch squares, and the daisy in my hand. The smile that flashed across the boy’s face and how he had grabbed my pigtails.
“You…you want money, don’t you?” Something inside me made me feel even smaller.
“I don’t know. Maybe we just want the princess.” He sounded dangerous as if this wasn’t merely about Dad’s billions, but as if he personally wanted to hurt me. He came closer. Panic rose inside me and I was tempted to rip off the blindfold. “Don’t do that!”
The harshness of his words stopped me and I stumbled backward, my back hitting something hard that prevented me from moving further. I was trapped and then suddenly I felt him in front of me, so close I forgot how to breathe.
“You’re wearing a dress like you’re waiting for a damn prince.
” Without warning, he grabbed the fabric and I felt a tug and heard the silk and tulle tear.
I screamed involuntarily, and as I thrashed around, he grabbed my wrists.
He only needed one hand since I was far too paralyzed to truly fight back.
“There, new rags for scrubbing the deck!” he sneered, and it appeared he threw the pieces of my dress into someone’s hands or maybe even on the floor.
A few of his men cheered.
I stood still, not breathing or breathing far too hard, I didn’t know. All I felt was his hand grabbing one of my braids, somehow winding it up or pulling it, and then I felt his breath on my ear. Compared to the cold air, it was warm. No, it was glowing!
“You eat from silver plates that are worth more than all our belongings put together. You slap beluga on your bread like butter even when children are starving next to you. You take drugs because your life is a boring pile of arrogance without meaning and you don’t give a damn about people like us.
Maybe we don’t give a damn about you either. ”
His grip hurt and burned my scalp.
I made a strange noise, not a sob, not a whimper, not a plea , but a pathetic mixture of everything.
And as if he was reacting to that, he suddenly stopped.
“I won’t touch you, don’t worry! Nothing could be further from my mind, princess, believe me!
” He sounded absolutely contemptuous. Apparently, what he was doing was not considered touching .
Still, despite his words, he didn’t release me. He hesitated.
What was he doing?
He felt my braid. Thoroughly. His fingers felt over the braided ribbon and remained there.
For a few seconds, he seemed frozen and silent.
Then I heard him swallow loudly. And just like before, images flashed through my mind. The Palace of Shards, the ivy columns, colorful shadows on my skin. Nathan’s dirty feet and the gray bracelet.
It doesn’t glitter.
I told you, it’s not much .
My mind was suddenly completely blank. Was it a coincidence that he felt my braid as if he recognized the ribbon?
I blinked frantically under the scarf. Should I say something?
Perhaps he was simply wondering what was braided into my hair.
Still, he remained completely stiff before his fingers stroked my hair again, more gently this time, almost tenderly as if he remembered something.
“I…” I began, but my voice faded as he let go of me so abruptly, it was as if he had been burned.
“Tie her hands behind her back,” he ordered roughly. “And get her out of my sight! Now! ”
He strode away and hurled an angry, “Set course for our destination and disable the transponders!” across the deck, whereupon I was grabbed again.
I felt as if he had dunked me in a bucket of ice water even though I was infinitely relieved to be away. From whatever. Nevertheless, there was one thing I still needed to know despite the chaos in my head. “Isaac? Is he here?” I called after him.
He didn’t answer. Instead, the man with the young, casual voice that I had heard in the car replied, “Isaac is on land. For now.”