The billionaire revenge marriage

chapter 10:The safe house

The safehouse was a cabin.

Not what I expected from Ares Callahan. No penthouse. No marble. Just wood, dust, and a lake I could hear but not see through the black windows.

“Where are we?” I asked. My voice sounded small after two hours of silence in the car.

“Upstate. Off the grid. Richard doesn’t know about it.” Ares killed the engine. Didn’t move to get out. “Elena and I bought it before the wedding. Never used it.”

Great. Another ghost.

He got out. Opened my door. I didn’t take his hand. My legs were stiff. Adrenaline crash hitting hard.

Inside smelled like cedar and abandonment. He flipped breakers. Lights stuttered on. One room. Bed, kitchen, fireplace. Bath off to the side. A rifle mounted above the door.

“Security?” I asked.

“None. That’s the point. No cameras. No wifi. No staff. If he finds us here, we’re already dead.” He dropped the duffel on the table. Unzipped it. Pulled out two phones. Cheap burners. “Yours. Mine. Memorize the number.”

He tossed me one. I caught it. “Rosa. She’ll panic if I don’t call.”

“She’s safe. Marcus moved her to a private wing an hour ago. New name. New chart.” He met my eyes. “Richard won’t touch her. He needs you alive to hurt me. Rosa is leverage. Dead leverage is useless.”

Logic. Cold and clean. I hated that it calmed me.

He started a fire. No words. Just newspaper, kindling, the sharp crack of wood. The cabin warmed. My hands didn’t.

“You said Elena was working with Richard,” I said to his back.

He stilled. “Yes.”

“Why tell me that?”

“Because you need to know who you’re married to.” He turned. Firelight cut his face into planes. “Elena believed I killed a man. An ex-special forces patient. Came in with a GSW to the gut. I operated. He died. Richard told her I froze. That I let him bleed out because he knew things about me.”

“Did you?”

“No.” He stepped closer. “But I understood why she believed it. I’m not good, Mia. I’m effective. There’s a difference.”

I believed him. That was the problem.

My phone — the burner — buzzed. Both of us went for our guns. Mine wasn’t there. His was.

_Unknown number: Check your email, Mrs. Callahan. -R_

“Don’t,” Ares said.

I already was. The cabin had no wifi, but the burner had data. One bar.

I opened it. One video file. No subject line.

I hit play.

It was Rosa. In a hospital bed. Sleeping. IV in her arm. Date stamp: 10 minutes ago.

A hand entered frame. Male. Put a folded note on her blanket. Pulled back. The camera zoomed in.

_He keeps you in cages too. -R_

The video ended.

I couldn’t breathe. “He got to her. You said she was safe.”

“She is.” Ares took the phone. Watched it again. His jaw ticked. “That’s St. Michael’s. Marcus moved her out 90 minutes ago. This is old. He’s playing with us.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Marcus just texted.” He showed me his burner. _Package secured. New location cold. No tails._ “Richard wants you to run back. To panic. To make mistakes.”

“Like following you to a garage.”

“Exactly like that.” He pocketed both phones. “We stay. We wait. The board votes in 72 hours. After that, I have full control of Callahan General. Then I hunt him.”

“And if we’re dead in 72 hours?”

His eyes were black in the firelight. “Then we die married.”

He meant it to be reassuring. It wasn’t.

I walked to the window. Nothing but dark and trees. “There’s only one bed.”

“I’ll take the floor.”

“No.” I turned. “If Richard’s men come, I want you awake. Not with a crick in your neck because you played gentleman.”

Something flickered across his face. Surprise. Maybe respect.

“Rules still stand,” he said.

“They changed when you said my name.” I walked to the bed. Sat. The mattress was thin. “We share. You stay on your side. I stay on mine. Deal?”

He stared at me for ten seconds. Then nodded. Once.

He took his shoes off. Then his holster. Laid the gun on the nightstand between us. Within reach for both.

He lay down on top of the covers. Fully clothed. Stiff as a board.

I did the same. Two feet of space between us. A chasm.

The fire popped. The lake lapped. Somewhere an owl called.

“Mia,” he said to the ceiling.

“Ares.”

“Sleep. I’ve got first watch.”

I closed my eyes. Didn’t sleep.

Neither did he.