Chapter 3

Barrett stood near the heavy oak bedroom door. His large hand hovered just inches over the brass handle. His dark eyes were locked on Audrey, tracking her every micro-movement like she was a wild animal about to strike.

Audrey took a small, deliberate step forward. She ignored his previous command to stay put. She held her hands open and empty by her sides, palms facing him, physically demonstrating that she was unarmed and unthreatening.

Barrett's jaw muscles ticked visibly. The sharp line of his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. His gaze dropped to her bare feet on the hardwood floor, calculating the exact time it would take her to sprint past him and reach the hallway.

"Barrett," Audrey spoke his name softly.

She dropped the formal, mocking titles she used to throw at him. She used his first name with a raw tenderness she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.

The sound of his name, spoken without venom or sarcasm, caused Barrett to flinch again. A micro-expression of pure, agonizing pain crossed his handsome face. It was there for only a fraction of a second before the cold, impenetrable mask returned.

He shook his head sharply, violently rejecting the emotional manipulation he believed was happening.

"How much is Carl paying you for this performance?" Barrett asked. His voice dripped with a corrosive sarcasm that hid his bleeding heart. "Or did he just promise you a bigger cut of your own trust fund?"

Audrey felt a sharp, burning sting of frustration behind her eyes. Her chest tightened. But she suppressed the urge to argue. She took a deep breath, letting her shoulders drop. She knew she had earned every single ounce of his cynicism.

She took another step. She closed the distance between them to just a few feet. She was close enough now to feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough to smell the intoxicating, familiar scent of his bespoke cedarwood cologne mixed with the sharp tang of his adrenaline.

Barrett stiffened. His posture became rigidly upright. He refused to back away, his pride demanding he hold his ground, but he was clearly suffocating from her proximity.

Audrey reached out slowly. She telegraphed her movement, giving him ample time to pull away or block her. She gently rested her small, warm palm flat against the lapel of his tailored suit jacket.

Barrett looked down at her hand resting right over his heart. His breathing hitched audibly. The physical contact seemed to burn straight through the expensive wool fabric and sear his skin.

Audrey tilted her head up, looking directly into his dark, storm-filled eyes.

"I am not leaving," she stated. Her voice was clear, firm, and unwavering. "I don't want Carl. I want to stay right here."

Barrett's eyes searched hers with a terrifying intensity. He was looking for the lie. He was searching for the hidden smirk, the subtle twitch of deception. He found nothing but earnest, desperate determination.

For a split second, the absolute zero coldness in his eyes cracked. Audrey saw a flash of desperate yearning. He wanted to believe her words more than he wanted to breathe.

But the memory of her past escapes, the public humiliations, the screaming matches-it all overrode his hope. His survival instinct kicked in.

He abruptly grabbed her wrist. His grip was not bruising this time, but it was clinically precise. He removed her hand from his chest as if peeling off a toxic bandage.

He stepped back, creating a definitive, unbridgeable physical boundary between them.

"You are wasting your time," Barrett said. His voice returned to absolute zero. The deadness in his tone hurt worse than his anger.

He turned the brass door handle. The mechanical click sounded incredibly loud in the tense, heavy silence of the bedroom.

Panic flared in Audrey's chest. She stepped forward quickly, her fingers grabbing the fabric of his sleeve.

"Please," Audrey begged, her voice rising in genuine panic. "Don't leave me alone tonight. Barrett, please."

Barrett stopped. He looked over his shoulder at her desperate grip on his sleeve. His paranoid mind twisted her vulnerability into a tactic. He interpreted her panic as a fear that her grand escape plan was failing.

He pulled his arm away with a forceful, violent jerk. Her fingers slipped off the wool. His expression hardened into impenetrable stone.

"The perimeter guards have been doubled," Barrett issued his final, chilling warning. "Any attempt to leave this estate tonight will result in Carl's immediate, total financial ruin. I will crush his family by morning."

Audrey opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to scream that she didn't care if Carl burned in hell. She wanted to tell him to destroy Carl.

But Barrett didn't give her the chance.

He stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. The harsh light cast a long, dark shadow into the dim bedroom, cutting across Audrey's feet.

He pulled the heavy oak door shut behind him. The solid thud echoed with a sickening finality.

Audrey stood frozen. Then, she heard it. The distinct, heavy metallic slide of the deadbolt locking from the outside.

He had sealed her in the master suite.

Audrey rushed to the door. She pressed her palms flat against the cool, polished wood. She pressed her ear to the door, listening to the sound of his heavy, measured footsteps receding down the long hallway until there was only silence.

Her legs gave out. Audrey slumped against the door, sliding down the smooth wood until she hit the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest.

The reality of her monumental task settled heavily onto her shoulders. Words were entirely useless against Barrett's trauma. She had traumatized him. She had to prove her loyalty through undeniable, physical actions.

Audrey pushed herself off the floor. She wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand. Her expression shifted from sorrow to cold, hard determination.

She turned her gaze toward the massive walk-in closet across the room. She decided that her first action must be to erase the physical evidence of her past rebellion.