CHAPTER 2 Marked by the Wrong Shepard

LILA’S POV

Very slowly, I pushed at his forearm, trying to ease myself out of his grip without waking him. My fingers brushed bare skin—hard and defined where Edward’s would have been soft and loose.

I turned my head a little.

A man lay beside me, half-buried in the pillow. Dark hair instead of white, a strong jaw shadowed with stubble and lashes too long for anyone that rugged-looking. 

The sheets were low on his hips, revealing the hard lines of his chest and stomach, the sharp cut of his collarbones.

My gaze dropped to his shoulder… bite marks. And purple marks on his neck and scratches on his biceps. 

… Did I do this? My stomach flipped. 

Did I attack this stranger under the influence of the drugs my aunt gave me?

Should I wait for him to wake up and apologize? And say what exactly? Sorry I was drugged, here is 20 dollars, it’s all I have?

I stared at his face again, mind scrambling, trying to place why he looked familiar.

Then recognition slammed into me.

No.

He is Adrian Shepard, Jason’s uncle!

A chill ran down my spine so fast I actually shivered.

Sure, he was the kind of man women wanted, and men wanted to be. At 19, he’d dropped out of college, gone to Europe, and built a tech empire. 

But he is not the kind of man who will take my joke of him being a prostitute lightly.

Jason called him ruthless—the way he crushed competitors and drove companies into bankruptcy. He was no angel. He was a storm. 

And now he had my marks all over his body.

My mouth went dry.

What have you done, Lila?

Heart pounding, I eased his arm off me inch by inch, holding my breath with every tiny movement. 

When I finally managed to slip out from under it, I nearly collapsed from relief.

I have no idea what to say to the man. I need to get out of here.

A green dress I don’t remember putting on was crumpled on the floor near the bed, along with a denim jacket. My underwear lay discarded a little further away.

I snatched my clothes up from the floor and made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting it behind me as quietly as I could manage. 

In the mirror, I saw a girl I didn’t recognize… 

Hair a mess around my face, lipstick smeared, eyes red-rimmed. Purple bruises bloomed along my neck, collarbone, arms, and even my thighs, which made my face go red. 

I grabbed the edge of the sink and squeezed my eyes shut.

A much more repulsive thought comes into my mind.

Did they change their mind and decide Adrian is a better mark? Did they send me over to his bed instead of Edward’s?

I splashed water on my face, letting the cold and the vanilla soap drag me back into my body. 

No, they can’t cut a deal this sordid with anyone but that disgusting old man, this must be a freak accident. Something even them didn’t see coming.

Minutes later, I’d fixed my hair and pulled the dress over myself, decent enough to flee. 

I shrugged on the denim jacket to hide Adrian’s marks.

When I cracked the bathroom door open again, he was still asleep. I left on the hotel note pad a big SORRY! And backed toward the entrance, every step careful and silent. 

My hand shook on the handle. He didn’t stir.

I slipped out of the room, out of the hotel, and into the morning light. All the way wishing like hell that Adrian Shepard thought of last night as nothing more than a meaningless one night stand and not to hunt me down.

No matter what really happened last night, it’s in my best interest to get the hell out of here first and keep my mouth shut before everything settles.

I slipped into the house as quietly as I could, keeping close to the side wall, listening for voices. No sign of Uncle Andrew or Aunt Maggie… if I could just make it to my room, shower, pretend nothing happened…

I was halfway up the stairs when a voice floated down from the landing.

“Well, well!”

Chloe. Of course.

She leaned against the railing, arms crossed, a smirk already tugging at her glossy lips. 

My heart sank.

“Looks like you and Edward had quite a night,” she said sarcastically. “You’re glowing, cousin!”

I stiffened and words just came out of my mouth, “I didn’t sleep with Edward!”

She snorted. “Please. You expect me to believe he paid for a suite just to play cards with you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this any more,” I said, trying to push past her. “Now move.”

She blocked me easily, fingers flicking out to catch my jacket. 

“Let’s see how much truth your body tells, hmm?”

“Chloe—”

Before I could even think, she pulled my jacket back. Her eyes lit up. 

Cool air hit my skin and exposed the trail of bruises across my collarbone, chest, and arms. 

I gasped and tried to put my jacket on again. But it was too late anyway.

“Wow,” she breathed, mock awe dripping from every syllable. “Seems Edward was very satisfied!”

Humiliation crashed over me like a tsunami. 

I want to shout that it was not Edward, but what’s the point? No matter who it was, last night still happened.

“Mum! Dad!” Chloe’s voice rose in delighted triumph. “It worked!”

Uncle Andrew reached us in seconds, Aunt Maggie right behind him. And Chloe held my jacket open the entire time as I tried to push her away. 

His gaze dropped to my exposed skin, to the marks, and something disgusting flickered in his eyes that I don't even want to describe. 

Aunt Maggie pressed her hand to her mouth, but it wasn’t shock I saw there. It was satisfaction.

“Lila,” she breathed. “My goodness!”

I finally pushed Chloe away and pulled my jacket back on, covering my front. “It wasn’t Edward,” I blurted again, with zero followup to offer.

“Don’t lie,” Chloe cut in, rolling her eyes. “We all know you spent last night with Edward. Dad arranged it himself.”

So they have no idea who I really spent the night with. Leave it to them to not even be able to arrange a sordid transaction.

“You sold me,” I accused him. “You drugged me and sent me to him like—like I was property!”

Uncle Andrew’s eyes raked over me again, assessing, calculating, just like he was inspecting goods he planned to trade.

“We gave you a chance,” Uncle Andrew snapped. “Edward is generous and influential. Do you think men like that line up to marry strays with no m0ney in their own name?”

Stray. Again.

“Anyway,” he continued. “The important thing is… he will honor his promise. A man doesn’t back out after… this.” He gestured vaguely at me, at the proof on my skin.

“I won’t marry him,” I said, voice shaking.

“That isn’t your decision to make,” Aunt Maggie replied coolly. “We have already spoken to Edward about finalizing the arrangements. You’ll thank us one day.”

“I doubt that,” I whispered.

Chloe’s lips curled in a lazy smile. “You’re always telling us how much we’ve taken from you. You never shut up about it. Now your words will finally have meaning, cousin!” 

I wanted to scream and claw at her, but my body felt as heavy as lead. 

“Go to your room,” Uncle Andrew ordered. “Clean yourself up. Maggie, call the planner—we might move things up now that everything is… settled.”

Settled.

I didn’t remember climbing the rest of the stairs. 

I just found myself, the next second, stumbling to my dresser and grabbing the frame that always sat there. My parents smiled at me from the photo, the sun on their faces. 

“What do I do?” I asked, as if they could answer me. “Everything is so messy, I just want to run away.” 

My mind flickered back to the hotel room… his arm around my body, his heat, his scent… 

Adrian.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about the way my heart had stuttered in confused relief.

None of it mattered, anyway. I was still trapped. And he won’t rescue me.

A knock sounded on my door. I scrubbed my face with my palms and set the photo back down.

Could I not get a moment’s peace? “What?” I called. 

The door swung open. Chloe. Again.

She sauntered in like she owned the place—because in her mind, she did.

“Relax,” she said. “I’m not here about Edward.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you about anything, leave,” I said.

She ignored that, crossing the room to perch delicately on the edge of my bed. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her robe.

“I thought you should hear it from me before anyone else,” she said, voice dripping with fake sisterly concern. “Jason and I are having our engagement party in two days.”

My chest tightened. Two days. He really was going through with this.

“Congrats,” I managed, the word tasting like ash on my tongue.

“Try not to make yourself the center of attention as usual, okay?” she said sweetly. “No crying fits or dramatic accusations. It’s my day.”

I stared at her. “It’s your day,” I repeated, flatly. “Can you leave now?” 

She stood, smoothing her robe, satisfied. At the door, she paused and looked back at me, eyes glinting.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she added casually. “Jason’s uncle is back from Europe. He’ll be at the party too, so… just be out of the way. I want to make a good impression.”

My breath caught.

She smiled wider when she saw my reaction. “You’ve heard the stories, right? The legendary Mr. Adrian Shepard. Try not to embarrass yourself in front of him too.”

Well, I think that ship has long sailed.