Chapter 4

Sienna's POV

I stared at him with my brain scrambling to process the magnitude of my mistake. I knew he was rich last night but standing here, I finally recognized the devil I had slept with. The bold silver lettering on the frosted glass doors of the reception area was burned into my retinas. 

'Brentwood Enterprises.'

He was Julian Brentwood.. the ruthless billionaire.. the man who owned half the city. I hadn't just stolen from a wealthy stranger.. I had robbed the apex predator of the corporate food chain!

“I don't know what you're talking about,” I lied. My voice shook violently, sounding small and pathetic in the huge room. “You have the wrong person. I didn't take anything.”

Julian simply reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek smartphone and tapped the screen once. He turned the phone around and held it up for me to see.

It was security footage from the hotel corridor. Grainy, black and white but undeniably clear. It showed me slipping out of his suite, clutching my shawl tightly and glancing nervously over my shoulder.

“The mask was a cute trick,” Julian murmured. “But my security software mapped your height, your build and the exact dress you were wearing. It tracked you across five different city blocks. Now I am going to ask you one more time and if you lie to me again, I will have my men take you down to the sub-basement and break every single finger on your pretty little hands for a start.” 

He stepped closer with his dark eyes boring a hole straight through my skull. “Where is my ring?”

My knees went weak and a hot tear of terror spilled over my eyelashes. “I don't have it! I swear! I gave it away!”

Julian’s jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might shatter. “To whom?”

“A loan shark,” I choked out, wrapping my arms tightly around my stomach. “His name is Shane. He operates out of an old meatpacking plant on the south side. My father owed him money and I used the ring to pay the debt.”

Julian stared at me for a long second. He looked disgusted as he turned his head slightly toward the guard standing by the door. “Miller. Get the cars ready. We are taking a field trip.”

***

Ten minutes later, I was violently shoved into the back of a black armored SUV. Julian sat beside me, radiating a cold furious energy that made the entire car feel like a freezer. He didn't say a word during the drive. He just stared out the tinted window, tapping his long fingers against his knee in a terrifying countdown.

We pulled up to the abandoned meatpacking plant and Julian stepped out of the luxury vehicle, his shiny shoes landing in a puddle of grimy water as he looked at the rusted metal door of the building with revulsion.

“Lead the way,” Julian ordered.

I swallowed hard and walked forward, flanked by Julian and four of his security guards. We marched down the damp flickering corridor. The thugs standing guard outside Shane’s office took one look at the men in custom suits and immediately stepped aside, their bravado vanishing into thin air.

I pushed the door open and Shane looked up from his messy desk, his cold reptilian eyes widening in shock as the small army flooded into his cramped office. He immediately reached for the drawer where he kept his gun but Miller was faster, slamming his hand down on the drawer, trapping Shane’s fingers.

Julian stepped into the room slowly. He looked around the dirty smoke-filled office like he had just stepped in something foul.

“Shane, I presume,” Julian said, his voice dripping with boredom.

Shane gritted his teeth, yanking his hand free from the drawer. He tried to puff out his chest, trying to reclaim some of his territory. “Who the hell are you? You can't just barge into my place...”

“I am the man who owns the ring this miserable girl handed you last night,” Julian interrupted coldly as he stepped right up to the desk. “And I am here to collect it.”

Shane’s eyes darted toward me, his face twisting into an ugly sneer then he looked back at Julian, clearly trying to calculate how much money he could squeeze out of the billionaire. His greed was always his fatal flaw.

“Right,” Shane grunted, leaning back in his chair. “The ring. Beautiful piece.. dolid gold. It’s safe. But you see, she owed me fifty grand. That ring is my collateral now. If you want it back, you're going to have to compensate me for my trouble. Let's call it a hundred grand. Cash.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, silently praying for a quick death. Shane was literally attempting to extort Julian Brentwood.

Julian didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He just let out a slow and tired sigh and casually buttoned his suit jacket.

“Destroy it,” Julian commanded softly and complete chaos erupted.

Julian's men didn't hesitate. One guard picked up a metal folding chair and smashed it violently into a row of filing cabinets. Another guard grabbed Shane’s desktop computer and hurled it across the room, the monitor shattering into a thousand pieces against the brick wall. Papers flew everywhere as the small office was being systematically torn to shreds in seconds.

Shane jumped up, his face purple with rage. “Hey! Stop! What the hell are you doing?”

Two of Shane’s thugs rushed through the door to help their boss. Miller simply turned around, drew his black pistol from his holster and racked the slide with a terrifying click. The other three Brentwood guards instantly drew their weapons as well, aiming directly at Shane and his men.

The thugs froze in their tracks, raising their hands in immediate surrender. Shane turned pale white, his tough-guy facade crumbling into absolute dust.

“The ring,” Julian repeated softly, perfectly calm amidst the destruction. “Now.”

Shane’s hands shook violently as he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out the gold signet ring and placed it carefully on the edge of the scarred desk.

Julian picked it up and slipped it onto his finger, turning his back on the loan shark completely. 

“Let's go,” he said to me.

We walked out of the ruined office wuth my heart pounding but not from relief. I was in so much trouble. My debt was completely unpaid. I was right back at square one and now Shane had a destroyed office to add to my tab. He was going to hunt my father down and kill him and then he was going to come for me. I had achieved absolutely nothing!!

I hurried after Julian, stepping out into the cold night air. I expected him to point down the street and tell me to run but instead, Miller grabbed my arm and shoved me back into the armored SUV.

“Wait! What are you doing?” I panicked, struggling against the seatbelt. “You got your ring back! Let me go! We're even!”

Julian climbed into the seat beside me and just stared straight ahead. “Drive.”

“Hey! Answer me!” I yelled, my voice cracking with desperation. “Where are you taking me? What do you want?”

He remained completely silent for the entire thirty-minute ride, ignoring my questions and my pathetic building tears.

The SUV eventually slowed down, turning off the main highway and passing through massive wrought-iron gates adorned with the Brentwood crest. We drove up a long winding driveway lined with trees until an enormous mansion came into view. It looked like a castle straight out of a gothic nightmare with all dark stone and glowing arched windows.

Miller dragged me out of the car and frog-marched me up the stone steps. We entered a grand foyer but they didn't stop. They led me down a long quiet hallway and pushed me into a large room.

The doors clicked shut behind me with the lock turning with a final thud. I was alone.

I spun around in circles, taking in the room. It was a private study. Wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. A massive desk sat in the center of the room, flanked by dark green armchairs. It was beautiful, warm and entirely terrifying.

I ran over to the large window, parting the curtains and looked down. It was a straight sheer drop of at least forty feet to a stone patio below. There was absolutely no way out. I was trapped in the devil's lair!

I paced the floor for what felt like hours with my mind racing through endless horrible scenarios. Was he going to hand me over to the police? Was he going to keep me locked in here to punish me? Was he going to make me work off the money I stole?

Finally, the doorknob turned and I backed up against the bookshelves, clutching my jacket tightly to my chest as Julian walked in. He looked completely different than he had in the office. He looked exhausted as he had removed his suit jacket. He loosened his tie, pulling it down with a rough yank. He was visibly bothered, running a hand through his dark hair as he walked over to his desk.

He didn't look at me right away. He just stood there for a moment in silence, staring down at the wood then pointed to one of the armchairs. “Sit down.”

“I prefer to stand,” I shot back, trying to sound brave though my voice wavered pitifully.

His dark eyes snapped up to mine. “I wasn't asking. Sit down.”

I fell into the chair, the leather doing nothing to comfort my shaking bones.

Julian opened the top drawer of his desk and reached inside, pulling out a folder. He tossed it casually onto the center of the desk where it landed heavily.

“We have a problem,” Julian said smoothly, leaning his hips against the edge of the desk and crossing his arms. “And unfortunately for you, you are the only solution I have right now.”

“I don't understand,” I whispered.

“I don't expect you to,” he replied coldly. “But you are going to listen very carefully. You owe me for what you did tonight and you are going to pay me back. There are exactly two ways out of this room for you.”

He tapped his long index finger against the folder. “This is Plan A. It is complicated and it is going to be incredibly difficult for you but it will solve both of our immediate problems.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the innocent-looking folder. “And... what if I say no to Plan A?”

Julian held my gaze for a terrifyingly long moment then he reached behind his back, tucked neatly into the waistband of his slacks and pulled out a black handgun which he placed gently onto the desk, right next to the folder.

“This,” Julian said with his voice devoid of all human emotion, “is Plan B…”