Chapter 9

Hudson stood on the yacht's deck, a glass of champagne in his hand, but the bubbles felt flat in his mouth. An inexplicable anxiety gnawed at him, a cold knot in his gut that had been tightening all evening.

He kept thinking of Aleen. Her face when she came out of the jail. The emptiness in her eyes. The way she flinched from his touch.

He felt a surge of irritation. Why couldn't she just behave? Why did she have to make everything so difficult?

Something was wrong. He felt it deep in his bones, a sense of loss that was sharp and terrifying.

"Hudson, darling." Ginger's voice, sweet and possessive, broke through his thoughts. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressing against his. "Thank you for the fireworks. They were beautiful."

She tilted her head. "I know you love me. I can feel it."

He looked at her, at this woman he had pursued, this woman he had used to punish Aleen. He had wanted her, or thought he had. But standing here, with her in his arms, he felt nothing. Just a hollow, echoing void.

"Hudson," she purred, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Now that the trash is out of the way... when are you going to make me your wife?"

He didn't answer. He was staring past her, at the dark, churning water.

"She doesn't deserve you," Ginger continued, her voice turning sharp. "She's not worthy of being Mrs. Scott."

He felt a sudden, violent revulsion. He shoved her away, so hard she stumbled and fell to the deck.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, shocked and hurt.

"Don't you ever," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl, "speak her name. You are nothing but a toy. A plaything. Do you understand? Aleen is my wife."

"But-"

"The only reason she isn't here is because she needs to be taught a lesson. The only reason you are here is to help me teach it. Do not forget your place."

Ginger stared at him, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. "She wants to leave you, you know! She hates you!"

His head snapped toward her. "What did you say?"

"She told me!" Ginger lied, sensing she had hit a nerve. "She said she despised you! That she would rather die than be your wife!"

His blood ran cold. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. The thought of Aleen leaving him, of her belonging to anyone else, was a physical agony. He punished her because she was his. He disciplined her because she was disobedient. But the idea of her hating him... truly hating him...

A vision of her haunted eyes flashed in his mind. The despair. The utter lack of hope.

His heart clenched.

He was about to grab Ginger, to shake the truth out of her, when his assistant, Mark, came running onto the deck, his face ashen.

"Mr. Scott! Mr. Scott, it's terrible news!"

"What is it?" Hudson barked, his patience gone.

Mark was panting, his voice shaking. "It's... it's Mrs. Scott. There's been an accident."

The world seemed to stop.

"A car crash on the coastal highway," Mark stammered. "She... she drove off the cliff."

Hudson's face went white. He stood up so fast his chair crashed to the deck.

"What did you just say?" he roared, his voice cracking.