The trap he set for me
1137 Words
The invitation arrived just after midnight.
Lulu stared at the embossed envelope lying on the glass table in the private lounge, its edges sharp against the soft lighting of the estate. She hadn’t touched it yet, but she already knew who it was from. Some instincts didn’t need confirmation.
Albie stood across from her, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled back, his attention fixed on the same envelope with quiet intensity.
“He wants you to open it,” he said calmly.
Lulu let out a slow breath. “Of course he does.”
William lingered near the doorway, posture alert. “It passed through three security checks. No devices. No threats detected.”
“Wilder doesn’t need explosives,” Lulu said quietly. “He prefers spectacle.”
She finally slid a finger beneath the seal and unfolded the thick card.
The Blackcrest Hotel – Private Charity Auction
Attendance Requested
No sender name. No signature.
But tucked beneath the card was a second sheet—typed, precise, unmistakably his.
Come willingly this time, Lulu. Or let the world believe you’re afraid.
Her hands trembled before she could stop them.
“He’s daring you,” Wren said from behind her. She had entered silently, her presence grounding. “And he’s doing it publicly. Right TV already has rumors of a surprise appearance.”
Lulu swallowed. “If I don’t go, he wins.”
Albie’s jaw tightened. “And if you do, he tests boundaries.”
She looked up at him. “You said wounded men are dangerous.”
“Yes,” he replied evenly. “Which is why we don’t walk into traps blindly.”
“But we still walk in,” she said.
Silence stretched.
Then Albie nodded once. “Yes. We walk in.”
The Blackcrest Hotel gleamed under the night sky, just as it had the night everything fell apart. Cameras lined the entrance, reporters clustered behind barricades, murmurs rippling through the crowd as Albie’s car pulled up.
Lulu’s pulse thundered as she stepped out beside him.
Same place. Different woman.
She straightened her spine, ignoring the ghosts clawing at her memory. Albie’s hand settled lightly at her back—not to claim her, but to anchor her.
Flashes exploded.
“Miss Averill!”
“Mr. Darlington!”
“Is this a response to Wilder Taylor’s claims?”
They didn’t stop.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric—luxury layered with tension. Guests turned openly now, conversations pausing mid-sentence as Lulu passed. She felt their eyes on her back, measuring whether she would crack.
She didn’t.
Then she saw him.
Wilder stood near the stage, perfectly at ease, dressed in a tailored suit that radiated respectability. When his gaze met hers, satisfaction flickered briefly across his face.
He approached with calculated slowness.
“Lulu,” he said smoothly. “You look… composed.”
“That tends to happen when you’re no longer owned,” she replied coolly.
A ripple of attention shifted toward them.
Wilder’s smile tightened. “Careful. People might think you’re being coached.”
Albie stepped in smoothly. “Step away.”
Wilder raised his hands slightly. “Relax. I only wanted to speak with her.”
“You don’t get private conversations anymore,” Albie said coldly.
Wilder’s gaze slid back to Lulu. “Do you see what he’s doing? Isolating you. Deciding who gets access.”
Lulu met his eyes without flinching. “You confuse boundaries with captivity.”
Something dark flashed behind Wilder’s smile.
Before he could respond, the auction host took the stage, calling for attention. The room settled reluctantly.
As items were presented, Lulu felt the shift—the subtle tightening of the air. She sensed it before she understood it.
Screens flickered.
The room gasped collectively as images appeared—documents, signatures, bank transfers.
Her name.
Her parents’ names.
Contracts.
Wilder’s voice echoed through the speakers. “I had hoped this wouldn’t be necessary. But when truth is silenced, evidence must speak.”
Lulu’s heart slammed violently against her ribs.
“This,” Wilder continued smoothly, “is proof that Lulu Averill was legally promised to me. That her sudden reappearance with Mr. Darlington was not coincidence—but manipulation.”
Chaos erupted.
Albie moved instantly, his arm firm around Lulu. “Shut it down.”
William’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “We’re trying—he hijacked the feed.”
Wilder turned toward Lulu, his gaze sharp, victorious. “You should have stayed silent.”
Her breath came shallow, panic threatening—but then something steadied inside her.
“No,” Lulu said clearly.
The word cut through the noise.
She stepped forward, gently slipping out of Albie’s hold.
“Lulu,” Albie warned softly.
“I need to do this,” she said without looking back.
She faced the crowd, the screens still glowing behind her.
“Yes,” she said, voice carrying. “Those documents exist.”
Murmurs exploded.
“But what you don’t see,” she continued steadily, “are the clauses I never signed. The consent I never gave. The pressure my parents were under.”
Wilder laughed lightly. “And we’re supposed to believe that?”
Lulu turned to him fully. “You think control is love. You think silence is consent. And you think exposing half the truth makes you powerful.”
She gestured toward the screens. “It doesn’t.”
Albie watched her now, something intense and unreadable in his eyes.
“I’m not afraid of those documents,” Lulu said. “I’m afraid of men who hide behind them.”
The room was deathly quiet.
Wilder’s smile faltered. “Careful.”
“No,” Lulu replied calmly. “You be careful.”
Security moved in as William finally cut the feed. The damage, however, was already done.
As they were ushered out, Albie leaned close, his voice low and fierce. “You just forced his hand.”
Lulu exhaled shakily. “Good.”
Back in the car, silence pressed down between them.
Finally, Albie spoke. “You walked straight into his trap.”
“Yes,” she said. “And survived it.”
He turned toward her fully, studying her like she was something new. “You didn’t just survive. You took control.”
Her throat tightened. “I was terrified.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “That’s why it mattered.”
She looked out the window as the city lights blurred past. “What happens now?”
Albie’s gaze darkened. “Now he stops pretending this is legal.”
A chill ran through her.
“And when he does?” she asked softly.
Albie’s voice was unyielding.
“Then I stop pretending I can protect you gently.”
Lulu closed her eyes, heart pounding.
The war had crossed a line.
And there would be no turning back.
- Writer
