Page 41

TWENTY-TWO

AUDREY

“Have you seen my belt, baby?” Reign asks, pulling on his jeans. “The black leather one?”

I look up from dropping my last pair of jeans into the suitcase. “Um, maybe check the chair by the window? I think you tossed it over there last night.”

It’s early the next morning, and Reign and I are packing for our escape to Montana. The house is still quiet, most everyone sleeping off last night’s post-fight celebrations. Even the staff won’t be up for another hour.

He finds his belt and slides it through the loops, the leather making that familiar whisper of sound. I close my suitcase and sit on the edge of the bed, watching him get dressed. There’s something surreal about this moment, like I’m living someone else’s life.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” I whisper. “In a few hours, we’ll be on a plane to Montana. Starting over.”

Reign pauses in buttoning his shirt, his eyes finding mine across the room. “Having second thoughts?”

“No.” The answer comes without hesitation. “The opposite actually. I’m just... I never thought I’d have the courage to walk away from all this.”

He crosses to me in three quick strides, cupping my face in his hands. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Audrey. You’re choosing your own life over everyone else’s expectations. That takes more courage than most people have.”

Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine. I melt into the kiss, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. This is what I’m choosing. This man, this love, this future we’re building together.

His phone buzzes against the nightstand.

“Ignore it,” I murmur against his lips.

It stops, then immediately starts buzzing again.

Reign pulls back with a frustrated growl. “Fuck. It might be important.”

He grabs the phone, frowning at the display. “Marcus. He wouldn’t call unless...” He swipes to answer. “What’s wrong?”

I watch his face change as he listens, the easy warmth from moments before replaced by sharp focus. His jaw tightens, and he runs a hand through his hair.

“How bad?” A pause. “No, I’ll come to you. Give me forty minutes.”

He ends the call, and I can see the tension radiating through his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, though I already know this isn’t good news.

“There’s been a slight issue. I need to go meet Marcus before we had out.” He’s already reaching for his jacket. “Just some security stuff for a client. Shouldn’t take long, but I need to handle it personally.”

“It’s fine,” I say quickly, forcing brightness into my voice. “You go help Marcus. I’ll meet you at the airstrip at noon.”

Reign frowns as he studies my face. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

“It’s two hours, Reign. I’ll finish packing, handle things here, and meet you there.” I wave him off dismissively. “Besides, I need to talk to Lucille anyway. Better to get it over with.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes search mine, looking for any sign of doubt. “Because if you’re not comfortable?—”

“I’m sure.” I stand and kiss him quickly. “Go. The sooner you deal with whatever this is, the sooner we can leave.”

He hesitates for another moment, then nods. “Noon. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be.”

One last kiss, deeper this time, full of promise and heat. Then he’s at my window, swinging his leg over the sill.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too. Now go.”

He disappears into the oak tree, and I watch until his truck pulls away from the street three blocks over. Only then do I allow myself to feel the anxiety creeping in. Two hours. I can do this.

I spend the next hour and a half methodically finishing my packing.

Everything I truly care about fits into two suitcases and a carry-on bag.

It’s remarkable how little of this life I actually want to take with me.

The jewelry Gio gave me stays. Most of the designer clothes stay.

The only things that matter are my art supplies, a few photographs of my dad, and the clothes that actually feel like me.

At ten-thirty, I can’t put it off any longer. Time to face Lucille.

I find her in the breakfast room, perfectly dressed despite the early hour, reading the financial section with her usual laser focus. She looks up when I enter.

“Good morning, darling. You’re up early after such a late night.”

“I need to talk to you about something.” I don’t sit down.

“Of course. Coffee first?” She gestures to the service cart.

“No. Lucille, I’m leaving. Today. And I broke off my engagement to Gio.”

The newspaper crumples in her hands. For a moment, she just stares at me, her face cycling through shock, disbelief, and then something much colder.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, I’m leaving. The engagement is over.”

“That’s not possible.” She sets down the ruined newspaper with deliberate precision. “You’re getting married in July. The invitations have been sent.”

“Then you’ll need to send cancellations.”

Lucille stands slowly, her movements controlled, but her eyes blazing. “Audrey, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this is not happening. You’re going to march upstairs, call Gio, and apologize for whatever foolishness?—”

“No. I’m not apologizing, and I’m not marrying Gio. I’m done.”

“Your father would never want this.” Her voice turns pleading. “He built Worthington Sports for you, for your future. This marriage secures everything he worked for.”

“My father would never want me to marry a criminal to save his company.” I cross my arms, holding my ground. “He’d want me to be happy.”

“A criminal?” Lucille’s laugh is bitter. “Gio is a successful businessman. He’s saved us from bankruptcy.”

“He’s a criminal, Lucille. We both know it. And I won’t be bought and sold like property to clean his money.”

Her facade finally cracks completely.

“You selfish, naive little girl. Do you have any idea what you’re throwing away? If Gio doesn’t save Worthington Sports, we lose everything. Your trust fund, this house, our entire way of life.”

I smile, and I know it looks smug. “I already have a home. And it isn’t this one.”

The words hit her like a slap. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m choosing my own life. My own future. And you can’t stop me.”

I turn toward the door, but her voice follows me.

“Audrey, if you walk out that door, don’t expect to come back. I won’t clean up this mess for you.”

“Good,” I say without turning around. “I don’t want you to.”

I walk out of the breakfast room, out of the house, and into the rest of my life.

I step through the doorway without looking back, each step taking me further from the Worthington legacy and closer to my own future. My future with Reign.

The Mercedes’s engine purrs as I navigate the winding driveway away from the Worthington estate, my childhood home growing smaller in the rearview mirror with each second.

I half-expected security to block my exit, but the gates opened smoothly, allowing me to pass without incident. As the massive iron gates close behind me, something breaks loose in my chest—a knot of tension I’d forgotten was there.

I’m free. Finally, truly free.

The road stretches before me, empty and inviting in the afternoon sun. Cooper Heights falls away as I drive, the weight of expectations and family obligations diminishing with each mile.

When I’m certain I’m far enough from the estate, I pull into the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall—one of my dad’s development projects that stalled after his death.

My headlights illuminate cracked concrete and faded storefronts, a forgotten place where no one will notice me. Perfect for what I need to do next.

I kill the engine and pull out the phone Reign gave me. My fingers hover over the keypad for just a moment before I dial the only number programmed into it.

He answers on the first ring. “Audrey.”

My name in his voice sends warmth cascading through me, chasing away the last chill of Lucille’s threats. “I did it. I told her the engagement is off.”

“How did she take it?”

“About as well as expected.” I lean back against the headrest, replaying the confrontation in my mind. “She tried the guilt trip about Dad’s debts and the company. When that didn’t work, she threatened to cut me off completely.”

Reign’s low growl of disapproval rumbles through the phone. “You don’t need her money or her approval.”

“I know.” And surprisingly, I do know. The threat that would have terrified me just months ago now feels hollow.

“Are you being followed?” Reign’s voice sharpens. “Did anyone track you leaving?”

I scan the empty parking lot, seeing nothing but shadows. “I don’t think so. I took the back roads like you said, and I haven’t noticed any headlights behind me.”

“Good. The plane’s fueled and waiting.” His voice softens again. “Just get to the airstrip. I’ll be waiting.”

“What if Lucille calls Gio? What if she warns him that I’ve ended things?”

“Let him try to stop us.” The dangerous edge in Reign’s voice should frighten me, but instead, it makes me feel protected in a way I never have before. “In a few hours, we’ll be gone from Cooper Heights. Just you and me.”

The promise in those words makes my throat tight with emotion. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess.” I can hear his smile through the phone. “Drive safe. I’ll see you soon.”

The call ends, and I sit for a moment, savoring the certainty in his voice, the solid foundation he offers when everything else in my life feels like quicksand.

Then, I start the engine again and pull back onto the road, heading toward the mountain highway that will take me to the airstrip. To freedom.

As I drive, my mind fills with images of our future.

Waking up beside Reign in Montana, sunlight filtering through cabin windows.

Setting up my art studio, canvases blank and waiting for inspiration.

Traveling together, seeing places I’ve only read about.

Building a life based on what we want, not what others expect.

The possibilities feel endless, exhilarating.

In fact, I get so lost in these daydreams that I almost miss the flashing lights ahead. I brake sharply, my heart jumping into my throat as my headlights illuminate what appears to be a security checkpoint blocking the road.

Two black SUVs are parked at angles across both lanes, their headlights glaring into my windshield. This makes no sense. There shouldn’t be a checkpoint here—this is a county road, not a highway or border crossing.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I slow to a stop, mind racing. Is this routine? A drunk driving checkpoint? Or something more sinister?

I glance in my rearview mirror, thinking I might turn around, but my stomach drops at what I see. Two more black SUVs have appeared behind me, effectively boxing me in.

Men in tactical gear—not police uniforms, but something more military—stand beside the vehicles. No official markings. No patrol cars. Just black SUVs and men dressed entirely in black.

Gio. This has to be Gio.

An officer approaches my window, his face obscured by the harsh glare of the SUV headlights behind him. I lower my window just enough to speak, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

“License and registration, please.” His voice carries a faint accent I can’t quite place, but something about it raises the hairs on the back of my neck. It sounds vaguely familiar.

I fumble in my purse for my wallet, fingers trembling as I extract my driver’s license. “What’s this checkpoint for? I didn’t see any signs.”

“Security concerns in the area, ma’am.” He takes my license, studying it longer than necessary. “Audrey Worthington. Where are you headed this evening?”

“To visit a friend.” I try to keep my voice casual, though my pulse pounds so loudly I’m certain he can hear it.

“A friend.” He repeats the words slowly. “Would this friend happen to be Jackson Mitchell? Or does he prefer to be called Reign?”

Ice floods my veins. He knows. They know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice sounds thin, unconvincing even to my own ears.

The officer leans closer, and for the first time, I get a clear look at his face. Not an officer at all, but one of Gio’s security team—the one who always stands at his right hand during business meetings. The one who drove us to the arena for Ben’s fight.

“Step out of the vehicle, Miss Worthington.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t think I will.” I reach for the window button, intending to close it and lock my doors, but his hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with painful force.

“That wasn’t a request.”

My other hand slides toward my purse, fingers seeking the phone Reign gave me. If I can just press redial, let him know something’s wrong?—

A sharp pain stings my neck, like an insect bite but deeper. My free hand flies to the spot, fingers connecting with something small and metallic protruding from my skin.

A dart.

“What did you—” My tongue suddenly feels too large for my mouth, the words slurring together as I try to form them.

“Mr. Vega would like to speak with you.” The man’s voice seems to come from very far away now. “He’s concerned about your emotional state.”

The world tilts sideways, colors blurring as my vision begins to fade at the edges. My last coherent thought is of Reign waiting at the airstrip, not knowing I won’t arrive, before darkness rushes up to swallow me whole.