Chapter 1
Arielle
“Tell me again why can’t I go, and make it sound convincing,” I said to my father, my hands on my hips.
I knew I was being rude to him, but this time, I was going to put my foot down.
“Come on, Arielle. Can’t you just watch it on TV?” he replied.
“Dad!” I gasped, scandalized. “This is the Grand Prix. When you have tickets to see the Grand Prix live, you don’t watch it on TV.”
“But watching it live means you’ll be in a very large crowd of people. People you can’t trust. What if something happens to you?”
I was growing tired of this back and forth. I’d known something like this would happen, so I’d waited until last minute to let him know. I would have tried to sneak off, but in my house, that was damn near impossible. I couldn’t lie either, since my father always asked where I was going when I left the house. Sometimes, he had bodyguards follow me, and I wouldn’t know until he mentioned it, or I spotted them, or something happened and they showed themselves.
“Why would anything happen to me specifically?” I countered.
“It doesn’t have to be just you. If something happens while you’re there, you might get caught up in it. Even with bodyguards, I can’t allow that, Arielle.”
Dammit. So even guards were out of the question?
I wouldn’t have liked being surrounded by men in suits, but I would have been willing to compromise and take them along. But if that was off the table too… maybe I should try to sneak out.
It wouldn’t be easy, though. The house felt more like a prison to me than a home. I wasn’t allowed out unless he knew where I was going, always, and it was so damn stifling. I had hoped he would allow me an ounce of freedom just this once, but…
My eye stung with tears, and I blinked rapidly to hold them back. I wasn’t a child anymore. Crying in front of him wouldn’t make him give in, he’d just argue even harder. Hardening my expression, I met my father’s eyes.
“Fine,” I said. “Be that way.”
I turned my back on him and stomped off to my room. I ignored him when he called for me, and he eventually grabbed the newspaper and picked up where he’d left when I interrupted him. He wasn’t even going to bother trying to comfort me.
It annoyed me to no end.
“Fuck what he thinks,” I said to myself as I kicked my door open and slammed it closed behind me. “And whatever he says.”
I launched myself onto the bed, grabbing one of my pillows and burying my face in it for a few seconds before coming up for air. There were some wet spots on the pillow case from my unshed tears, but I didn’t intend to cry. Oh, no. I was going to do what my dad considered “impossible” and break out of the family fortress.
It was risky, but I would do it anyway. I was getting sick and tired of my father’s controlling attitude. Hell, I was over it ages ago. I was already nineteen, and because he didn’t think there was a reason for me to, I couldn’t even attend college. Most of the friends I’d managed to make in high school, few though they were—also thanks to my dad—were moving on without me. And it was just so unfair how he could have his own pleasures but denied me even a little freedom. I loved my father, but I didn’t intend to live my whole life sheltered and under his thumb, just because he said so.
Determination surged through me as I sat up in my bed. Moping by myself wouldn’t lead to anything. Maybe if I could get out and have some fun on my own, and nothing bad happened, then he would be a little less strict. I knew my father cared for me, and I would never wish that he would care less, but loosening his grip on my future would be a good start to making me dislike him less.
Not that I would ever actually tell him I snuck out. He’d probably lock me up for real if he knew beforehand, and the little leeway I had would be gone.
Usually, at least some planning went into this, but we’d already had dinner, so my dad wouldn’t be expecting to see me again tonight. Decided, I jumped off the bed. I needed a night out for myself to cool my head.
“Arielle?”
I tensed and almost immediately relaxed, grinning at the slightly accented voice saying my name. But I took a moment to calm my excitement and wipe the grin off my face. This wasn’t going to work if I couldn’t get his sympathy.
“Come in, Marc,” I called out, sitting back on my bed with my arms crossed.
The door opened, and there he stood. Most people would find him off-putting, even scary. Marc was my dad’s head of security and his personal bodyguard. He was an enormous Tunisian man with dark skin, a shaved head and deep brown eyes. He usually dressed in French linen suits. His stony face, and the way he always stood silently near my father with his hands clasped, gave him an unfriendly air.
In reality, he was the total opposite. He’d watched me grow up, and in my eyes, he was my honorary “uncle,” as well as my sometimes confidant. He took better care of me than my father did at times, and while I resented that, I cared for him about as much as I did my dad.
Soft-spoken giant that he was, though, I knew he was competent, and a little dangerous when he needed to be, though he rarely ever let that side of him out, because he was good at his job as head of security. Very little got past him. Because of this man alone, I wouldn’t be able to get out unsupervised.
But I also knew, with his soft spot for me, his kind and hopeless romantic attitude, if I pled my case to him, he could help me.
There was no way I could sneak out otherwise.
“Hey there, little girl,” he said softly, walking inside and partially closing the door.
I puffed out my cheeks in annoyance, his lips quirking at the childish act.
“You really need to stop calling me that. I’m not a child anymore, and I want you guys to see it. Both of you.” Obviously my dad hadn’t noticed because he still treated me like a child in need of coddling.
Marc sighed. I may not have paid much attention to him while I argued with my dad, but he had been in the room with us. Even at home, he was rarely in a different room from my dad. Marc didn’t have anywhere else to be. He rarely ever spoke up against my father, but he was probably one of the few people in the house who could.
“No one thinks of you as a child, Arielle,” he assured me. “Your father is just… protective.”
I snorted. “Is that really the right word for it? He’s locking me up here like I’m not my own person! He won’t even let me go to college, and I had so many offers after high school.”
Marc cracked a small smile. “Your valedictorian speech was wonderful. Even your father thought so.”
I rolled my eyes to let him know just how much I cared about that. I’d almost missed graduation too, and just barely managed to convince my father that I had to be there. If this was Marc’s idea of talking me down after another argument with my dad, then he was growing rusty at it.
Or we had way too many arguments about the same topic.
“It doesn’t really matter what he thinks if I’m going to get stuck with a high school diploma.”
My father had money, yes. And life would be simpler if I relaxed and waited to inherit. I would be set for life without lifting a finger, and that kinda pissed me off. What happened to all the effort I put into high school, all to please my dad in the first place? If I wasn’t going to do anything with it, then I’d wasted four years of my life studying when I didn’t need to. I could have tried to find more friends, have fun and enjoy my teen years, but no. Dad wanted perfect grades, even though he wouldn’t let me take them to college.
“Can you try to see it from his point of view? You’re his only child.”
“And I have a life of my own. I want to live it. But his standards are so damn high, I barely go anywhere, and I barely have any friends because he has to vet them personally after you do background checks.” I sent him the stink eye, and he had the grace to look sheepish. “I mean, Marc, come on. Don’t you think his behavior might be a tad excessive?”
I kept my voice pleading. I had to lead him up to this. Gentle giant that he was, I knew he wanted a normal life for me, one filled with friends and college and parties. As it was, he was the closest friend I’d ever had in my life, and whenever I stopped to think it over… I cared for Marc, but I felt so damn sorry for myself, it was depressing.
“Marc,” I said, voice firm. “I want to go out tonight.”
Immediately, his face turned guarded. “I thought the Grand Prix was a few days from now. And your father hasn’t said you can go yet.”
“I know,” I said calmly.
His eyes narrowed as he considered me. After a moment, he shook his head and fixed me with a stern look.
“No,” he said.
“Please, Marc. I seriously need a break. What would it hurt?”
“Arielle! Your dad would blow a gasket. And if you think you feel locked up now, trust me when I say it could get a lot worse.”
I chewed on my lip, feeling a bit of fear. But I pushed it away. I considered getting on my knees, but it wouldn’t help my case any if he was really against me doing this. I would save it as a last resort.
“It’ll only be for a few hours,” I pled. “I swear. I’ll just go somewhere, have a little fun by myself, and hurry right back. No one will even notice I left.”
“If I help you and your dad finds out, do you know how mad he will be?”
“Marc, I’m not asking you to help me escape. Just look the other way while I sneak out for a while. Please? I’m seriously starting to feel suffocated in this house, and I don’t know how long I can stand this.”
His expression wavered, only slightly, but I caught it. I held back the urge to grin. Just a little more…
“What happens if you get kidnapped?” he said. “I know you don’t take this sort of thing seriously, but it’s not just your dad being paranoid, Arielle. The potential has always been there.”
“What if I promise to take a GPS-enabled panic butting with me and leave my phone on? I used them throughout high school, and that was fine.”
Marc rolled his eyes. “That’s because the school you went to was about as well protected as this house is. And there were people there to watch you.”
“Marc,” I whined. “Please. Just for a little while.”
After a few moments where neither of us moved or spoke, I seriously considered getting on my knees and bringing out the tears. They would work on Marc, I knew. But before I could, he sighed with a defeated look, and I couldn’t hold back my grin then.
“You get a few hours,” he said in warning. “If you’re out till morning, your dad will definitely bust you, and you’ll be on your own.”
I squealed and jumped up to give him a quick hug. “Thank you so much.”
He sighed and patted my head, before pushing me back. “There should be a panic button in your room, right?”
I nodded. I always had one on hand.
“How long do you need to get ready?” he asked.
“Thirty minutes.”
He checked his watch, and reflexively, I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time.
“Fine. I’ll go and distract security. Your dad is busy right now anyway. Go through the back, and don’t take your car. Carry cash and use a cab. I am trusting you right now, Arielle, so please take good care of yourself, all right?”
“I promise,” I said immediately. “I’ll be really careful.”
With a sigh and a final hug, he left the room. I allowed myself one more squeal of happiness before I started moving. At least with Marc’s blessing—and hopefully my dad’s continued ignorance—I changed into jeans, a different top, and a leather jacket that a friend had loaned me, then made my escape.
I stole through the house, hiding from the help, and made my way to the kitchen and out the back door. It was technically an entrance used by the maids, and I was rarely ever back here, but I’d explored the whole of my house in my nineteen years of captivity.
There were usually a few guards patrolling the grounds, but I made a quick sprint for the gate, my heart pounding, hoping I wouldn’t get caught. But no one was there, not even at the gate. I glanced over my shoulder as I carefully pushed open the side gate I rarely used.
Once outside, I hurried down the sidewalk. I still expected my escape to be noticed, for there to be some alarm as my dad’s mini army came after me. Then I saw a cab coming down the road and I raised an arm to hail it. When it stopped, I hopped in the back.
“Drive me to the nearest club, please,” I said.
The driver shot me a look over his shoulder, then shrugged.
“All right,” he muttered.
The car moved. I counted to ten, then looked over my shoulder. My house was already fading into the distance.
I’d actually made it out. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not, so I stayed neutral.
When the taxi stopped and the driver caught my attention, I looked up.
“This is the closest place. You want to try another one?”
I glanced outside. The colorful sign above the door said Monte Carlo Club.
“It’ll do fine,” I told the driver as I threw some bills at him and jumped out.
There were people coming and going through the entrance, and the bouncers checked IDs every time before they allowed someone inside. I usually used something fake when I went on my excursions, because I didn’t need people making the link to my family, as it could spell trouble.
I watched the bouncers hold back a couple from entering, maybe other teens with fake IDs. I’d made it this far, though, so I was definitely going to try to get into the club—
I ran into someone. It startled me so much I nearly fell over. I looked up, ready to tear into the person…only to find an attractive man smiling down at me.
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