Chapter 9
The Aston Martin tore up the gravel driveway of the Long Island estate, skidding to a violent halt right in front of the main steps.
Finley didn't even bother shutting the car door. She hiked up her skirt and sprinted up the stairs, bursting through the front doors.
She ran straight up the grand staircase, her breath burning in her lungs. She threw open the heavy oak doors to Benton's master suite.
Benton was sitting in his wheelchair by the window. Two private nurses were adjusting the IV drip in his arm.
Finley rushed to his side, dropping to her knees beside the wheelchair. Her hands shook violently as she pulled out her backup phone and pulled up the cloud video.
"Look at this," Finley gasped, shoving the screen in front of her grandfather's face.
The video played. Clara's weak voice. Leo crying out Daddy. Haiden violently grabbing Finley to protect them.
"He's cheating on me, Grandpa," Finley cried, her voice cracking. "He's using our money to fund his secret family. You have to call the lawyers. Annul the marriage right now."
Benton stared at the screen. His cloudy, aged eyes didn't widen. His expression didn't change. He looked completely, terrifyingly calm.
He raised a frail hand and waved the nurses out of the room. The door clicked shut, leaving a suffocating silence behind.
Benton looked down at Finley.
"Loyalty in a marriage is a luxury for the poor, Finley," Benton said, his voice raspy and cold. "Haiden is keeping the stock prices stable. He is crushing our competitors. I do not care if he has ten bastards hidden in the city."
Finley felt like she had been struck by lightning. She stared at the man who had raised her, feeling as though she were looking at a monster.
"You're selling me?" she whispered, horror choking her throat. "For the stock price? You're letting him humiliate me?"
Benton started to cough. He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his mouth. When he pulled it away, there was a bright spot of red blood.
"I am dying, Finley," Benton wheezed, leaning back in his chair. "I do not have the energy to clean up your tantrums anymore."
The bedroom door opened. Arthur stepped in, his face solemn.
"Sir, the medical transport to the private clinic in the Swiss Alps is ready," Arthur announced.
Finley scrambled backward, her hands slipping on the hardwood floor. "You're leaving? You're leaving me here with him?"
A team of paramedics entered the room, completely ignoring Finley as they began to detach Benton's monitors to prepare him for the flight.
Half an hour later, Benton's wheelchair was pushed into the grand foyer downstairs.
Haiden was already there. He stood by the front doors, wearing a fresh black suit. The bite mark on his arm was hidden beneath his crisp white cuff. He looked like a king waiting to take his throne.
Benton's wheelchair stopped in front of Haiden. The two men locked eyes. A silent, heavy understanding passed between them.
Benton reached out and patted Haiden's hand. "She's yours to manage now."
Finley screamed. She lunged down the stairs, reaching for her grandfather's wheelchair. "No! You can't do this!"
Haiden stepped forward, his massive body blocking her path. He clamped a heavy hand down on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her collarbone, pinning her in place.
Finley thrashed against him, tears streaming down her face, as she watched the paramedics load Benton into the armored medical van.
The heavy doors slammed shut. The van drove away, disappearing down the long driveway.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, pulled the massive front doors of the estate shut, and turned the deadbolt. The loud clack echoed in the foyer.
The estate had just become a prison.
Haiden looked down at Finley, who had collapsed onto her knees on the marble floor. There was no pity in his dark eyes. Only absolute, suffocating authority.
He crouched down. His long fingers gripped her chin, forcing her tear-stained face up to meet his gaze.
"Your grandfather is gone," Haiden said, his voice a low, cruel rumble. "There is no one left to protect you. From now on, you will learn how to be an obedient Mrs. Mitchell."
Finley bared her teeth. She spat directly into his face. "You're a monster. I will kill you."
Haiden didn't flinch. He calmly pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his cheek. He stood up, towering over her.
"Arthur," Haiden commanded without looking away from Finley. "Confiscate her phone, her car keys, and all her electronics."
Arthur and two maids stepped forward. Finley fought them, screaming and kicking, but they easily overpowered her, stripping her of her only lifelines to the outside world.
Haiden turned and walked toward the grand study, his footsteps echoing with absolute power.
She sat alone on the cold floor. The tears slowly stopped falling. She lowered her head, letting her messy, tangled black hair fall forward to completely hide her face. In the heavy, suffocating silence of the empty foyer, hidden entirely within the dark shadows of her hair, the corners of her tear-stained mouth slowly curled upward into a strange, unsettling smile.
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