Prologue

JESSICA

I’m seated alone at a table in the corner of a lush garden in which my former fiance, Sebastian, is having a ceremony to celebrate the renewal of his wedding vows with his beautiful wife, Carol. I wish I can just leave, but if I do that, it would look like I’m jealous or that I bear ill will toward the happy couple. It isn’t either of those things that make me want to leave though. It’s just that being here, in this garden, with so many people around, reminds me of that fateful night, three years ago, when I was kidnapped and then held captive and tortured for so many months. It was from this very garden that it had all started, and the atmosphere in it right now is the same as it had been that night … festive and unsuspicious, except that it is daytime this time around.

Still, I hate the feeling that the whole thing is giving me. Thoughts of Charlotte, the sadistic bitch who had wreaked havoc on my life, come into my mind unbidden. I still have nightmares … nightmares in which an evilly smiling Charlotte stands over me and plunges a needle filled with poison into my veins as I lay, unable to move in a hospital bed so that I will die slowly. Or nightmares in which Charlotte hides in the shadows and pumps me full with bullets so that she can silence me forever and no one would know that she’s the one who kidnapped and almost tortured me to death.

I’ve been seeing a therapist for a while now, and like to think that I’m making progress, but somehow, I know that I’m going to have one of those nightmares again. Some days, I get so fed up with living like this and being so skittish and afraid of everyone and everything, that I think of just ending it all, but I refuse to give that bitch Charlotte the satisfaction. She would be smiling in her prison cell if she knew that it was because of her I wiped myself off the surface of the earth.

Suddenly, I get the feeling that I’m being watched. It is a feeling that I’ve learned to easily recognize after what happened to me. Fear gnaws at me, but I laugh a little to myself, feeling a little foolish. It’s broad daylight, after all, and there are lots of people milling around, so I’m perfectly safe. Besides, Charlotte and all her cohorts are either dead or in prison, so no one can harm me, not that I know of, at least. Still the feeling of being watched persists, so I turn slowly to face the direction in which I’m sure the person watching me is seated.

I give a loud gasp, suddenly feeling very faint, as terror courses through me. It can’t be, can it? As the seconds pass by, I realize that my eyes are not deceiving me. It is her! Right here in the garden, sitting a little distance away from me and casually sipping a glass of drink, while staring unabashedly at me. Charlotte … she has escaped from prison, or maybe it was all a hoax, and she hadn't really been arrested but was now here to finish off what she had started. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out of it, despite my best effort to force something out. My vision begins to become blurry, and within seconds, everything goes black and I slump to the ground in a dead faint.

By the time I regain consciousness, I realize that I’m inside Sebastian’s mansion and I’m lying on a big, comfortable bed. Concerned voices speak over themselves, but I’m too tired and scared to follow what any of them is saying. Someone, probably Sebastian’s wife, is talking about calling the doctor to come back, so I quickly sit up, immediately regretting the decision when my head begins to swim. I now have a phobia for hospitals too, thanks to my horrid experience.

“She’s here.” I manage to say, accepting a glass of water that Carol thrusts into my shaking hands.

“Sorry? Who’s here?” Carol asks, sitting beside me and rubbing my shoulders to calm me down. She is a very nice person and thinking about how horribly I treated her after my experience makes me very ashamed of myself, but that’s a story for another day.

“Charlotte … I saw her in the garden. Oh, my God, Carol. I’m so scared. She’s back to kill me. She’s back to finish what she started.” I say and then unable to help myself, I burst into tears, crying into Carol’s shoulders.

“Calm down, Jessica. Charlotte’s locked away for life in prison, remember? She can’t harm you anymore. Don’t worry, just rest. You hit your head when you fell in the garden. Charles said that you’ll be fine, though.”

“No, you don’t understand. I saw her before I fainted. She was wearing a suit and a tie… and she had cut her hair, but it was her face. I’m sure of it.” I insist, but pause as a deep baritone voice speaks from the doorway.

“Oh, good. She’s awake.”

I turn my head in the direction of the door, where the voice had come from and I nearly gasp again, but this time, I realize my mistake immediately. The man standing at the door is impossibly tall and has almost the exact face of Charlotte, but his face is more masculine than hers and it lacks the craziness that Charlotte’s had. In fact, his eyes are the kindest ones that I’ve ever seen. Still, the resemblance is uncanny, and it causes me to shudder involuntarily as I look away from him and look at Carol instead.

“Who … who is that?” I ask Carol fearfully.

“That’s Charles. I’m guessing he’s the one you saw. He’s Charlotte’s twin brother.” She replies, her eyes filled with compassion.

I glance at the man, Charles, and he smiles warmly at me, but I look away without returning his smile, shuddering. Charlotte Callister’s brother? Charlotte, who had kidnapped, tortured, and nearly had me killed, and had then framed poor, terminally ill Mr. James, who was her own father, for the whole thing, and then killed him, causing me to hate the innocent man, and even worse, causing Sebastian to blame and hate his uncle? Can this day get any worse?