Chapter 2 BROOKLYN BRIDGE, 8PM

It's been 2 days since she signed the contract, and her "owner" seemed to have forgotten he had his property roaming freely in New York.

She laughed at the funny thought and Debby joined in with a giggle, not knowing the cause of laughter.

"Do you want..."

Amy's sentence was cut off by the SMS notification from her phone.

She was sure Mia, her boss at work, had forgotten where she kept the store keys again!

Ughhhh! She rolled her eyes and unlocked her phone.

Hell it wasn't Mia...

Private number.

"BROOKLYN BRIDGE. 8 PM"

Amy's heart dropped to her stomach. Her owner had remembered his property.

She glanced at the top of her phone screen; it was 7:45pm.

Amy's heart sank even more.

A dangerous idea dropped in her mind. Her heartbeat accelerated as she seriously contemplated it.

She turned to Debby on the hospital bed.

"Sweetheart... promise me you won't leave here until I'm back."

"Okay I won't. But is something wrong sis?," Debby's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern.

"I just need your word on this. Stay glued to your phone in case I call or text. I'll be right back."

She kissed confused Debby goodnight and with each step sinking her heart deeper, she carefully made her way out of the hospital.

****************

Brooklyn bridge was to the west of the hospital, but Amy wouldn't be going west.

She turned east and walked to the next building by the hospital.

It was a restaurant and Amy stood in the shadows cast by the building, peeking at the entrance of the hospital from there.

The time was 7:52 PM already, and she knew there was a chance Mr Walton would guess she was in the hospital with her sister.

All she had to do was evade him until her sister was discharged from the hospital and then she would take Debby and go home for good.

Thankfully Thomas didn't ask her to fill in her home address or any other info on the documents yesterday except her phone number.

He couldn't do much with her phone number. Or so Amy thought.

Finally, it was 8pm on the dot.

She looked around for a blue Rolls Royce to come revving up the entrance of the hospital but saw nothing like it.

Phew, she heaved a sigh of relief. Thomas Walton wasn't that unbeatable after all, her heart leaped with joy.

Her phone chimed again.

LAST CHANCE, WILSON. I DON'T PLAY GAMES.

Her heart skipped a beat at the warning but she pushed the fear aside. All she had to do was wear him out for 30 minutes and he would get tired of the game.

She imagined the almighty Thomas Walton waiting for 'his property' at the ever-busy Brooklyn bridge, driving away in disappointment after an hour.

She was no one's property and she would never be randomly beckoned on by Thomas Walton as such, Amy smirked with satisfaction.

She closed her eyes and savoured the cool evening breeze brushing through her long hair.

Everything would be alright, it surely would.

"Miss Wilson."

A hefty man in black suit called from behind her.

Her eyes widened, and she turned her head sharply to look at the speaker.

Amy recognised him as the man who had been sitting alone at the table outside this restaurant for the past 10 minutes, sipping a bottle of Coke which never seemed to get empty.

Amy thought he looked shady but couldn't place a finger on it.

"Wh...who are you a..and how do you know my name?" Amy stuttered in wonder.

"Mr Walton demands you come with me immediately Ma'am."

Amy's eyes widened in shock.

Walton had spies! What did she expect from the most notorious CEO in New York?

She spotted a device blinking with a tiny red light on his right ear and it dawned on her even more.

She felt stupid thinking Thomas Walton would be the one to drive and wait for her himself.

She shrieked in fear and stuttered, "n...no, tell him I'm not co..coming with you."

He took a step closer and that was all it took to trigger her flight mode.

She turned into the dark alley between the hospital and the restaurant and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

She took any twist and turns she sighted, into the dark narrow streets, with the hefty figure effortlessly closing up the gap behind her.

Amy was getting worn out fast, and her chest felt like it would explode if she didn't stop running at once.

She scanned the road for somewhere to hide but all she could see were talk dark buildings with too tiny crevices.

She realised that she had led her pursuer away from the busy streets into the lonely residential area and she regretted it.

Amy felt his rough hand grip her arm and she just knew it was over there and then.

She felt him press a wet handkerchief over her nose and mouth; her biggest mistake was inhaling it.

Her head got wozy immediately and her limbs went numb, no longer able to uphold her weight.

"I've got her, boss," she heard his deep baritone voice as the figure loomed over her falling body.

The world closed in on Amy as her eyes slowly went shut.

********

Amy's eyelids felt heavy as she tried to adjust them to the bright light in the room.

She squinted, trying to remember where this place was- was she in a hotel Mia booked for the weekend?

When last did she see Debby?

At the thought of Debby, the images came flooding in; hospital, dark alley, hefty man in black.

She gasped like she just saw a ghost and sat up quick as she sensed a presence in the room.

Then she saw him: her 'owner'.

He was sitting on a cushioned seat beside the bed, a glass of champagne in his right hand and a book on his left.

He was staring at her with that icy glare she dreaded so much.

"Welcome back, Wilson," his voice had a somewhat steely edge to it and she wondered if it was due to an attempt to mask his anger.

Hell, she was caught red-handed, running from him!

Amy dropped her gaze to her hands in her laps, eager to escape that cold glare.

"LOOK. AT. ME."

She shuddered at the sudden coldness of his tone and obeyed, her heart thundering in her chest.

Her gaze met his, she saw he had a grave expression on his face.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how dumb are you?"

Amy's green eyes widened. "Excuse me?" She blurted out.

"I am Thomas Walton. I own the biggest tech conglomerate in the US. Some call me the most feared man in the country.

"But you gave me your phone number and you couldn't understand how much someone like me could do with just that?"

He squinted at Amy like she was the most amusing object he'd ever seen.

How naive was this girl, he wondered.

He moved from his seat to the bed, edging his face near hers.

His gaze, cold and intense, was fixed on her face.

A flush crept up Amy's neck, a warmth she knew was painting her cheeks a rosy hue. Her breath hitched, caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

He came even closer.

His face, framed by the soft light, mere inches away.

Time seemed to stretch thin, every second a suspended eternity.

His hand reached up, not to touch her, but to rest on on the headboard behind her head.

A tremor ran through her slender body, her palms felt suddenly damp, and she subtly curled her fingers into her skirt.

He was really too close now. She could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

His scent, a clean masculine mix of something woody and fresh, filled her senses, making her dizzy.

His icy stare got more intense, and her heart, like a wild bird trapped in her chest, began to beat a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She couldn't bear this. Amy started to look down.

"Don't! Keeping looking at me," he breathed.

Her body reacted without conscious thought, inching slowly away from him until her back touched the headboard of the bed.

No more space to run, the next option was to jump out of the bed entirely.

He noticed this and smirked, cupping her chin in his palm before she could jump away.

He tilted her head upwards at an evil angle.

If he moved any more closer his lips would be touching hers.

Amy was so nervous she could feel beads of sweat trickling down her temple down to her neck.

"I own you, Wilson. Never attempt to take what I own away from me again." he whispered the words slowly, the warm air from his words touching her face.

Then so abruptly, he let her go.

Thomas Walton stood up with a smug look on his face and walked back to the desk.

He whistled a familiar tune she couldn't recall and reached for a file on the bedside table.

After one more icy glare, he started to read out:

"Amy Wilson.

Born Eighteenth March, 2002, in Boston......

FAMILY:

Father, Jeffery Wilson.

Mother, Olivia Wilson.

Sister, Deborah Wilson.

Brother, Davis Wilson.

SCHOOL:

Finished from Lehman Harris High school in 2019

RELATIONSHIPS: Dated Martin Castillo, 2018 to 2019.

JOBS:

Worked as Waitress at TastyZone, 2018 to 2020.

Unemployed for a year before getting a job as salesgirl, Shop4more, 2021 to 2023.

Quit to work at Lily Blossoms, 2023 to present.

PLACES LIVED:

Relocated to New York from Boston in October 2018.

Currently resides at 30, Bedford Avenue, Williamsburg, New York.

HOBBIES

Painting, Volleyball, baking..."

"Stop. You don't have to do this just to prove your point," her voice came out low, quivering.

He raised an eyebrow at her and continued. "The best part - owns 4 Instatok accounts..."

"Please!" her emerald green eyes joined the plea this time.

Thomas Walton stopped the reading, an accomplished look on his face.

"You seem to like my app so much you created an account four times, Wilson. Even I the owner, have just one account."

That amused look was back on his face again.

Amy's face was blank.

She just wanted him to do whatever he wanted with her so she could get out of his sight and see Debby again.

"Do whatever you want fast, Mr Walton. Get over with it."

He pursed his lips tightly and in a split second that icy stare was back again.

"Very well, since that's what you wish, Miss Wilson. Now how about you take off your clothes?"