The CEO’s Unwanted Wife

Chapter 3: Shadows Don't Knock

Raine

"He's not dead, Raine. But if you don't find him before they do… You will be."

Those were the last words I ever heard before my world came crashing down around me.

Suddenly, the hotel room door burst open.

Three men in black suits, with face masks, came in with rifles.

"DOWN ON THE FLOOR, NOW!" they yelled.

I barely had time to process the command. I wheeled around to run for my life, and then a hand slapped my face brutally.

While I was still trying to absorb what was happening to me, I felt life slipping out of my body.

The last thing I remember seeing was Sierra's frightened face when one of the men hit her on the head. She crashed into the wall, then onto the floor, and then—

Darkness

I woke up gasping for fresh breath.

I was strapped to a chair, my body pounding in too many places to count. The air had a strong clinical odor. The room was dark, cold, industrial, without windows. Concrete floor. Bleach and rust were detectable in the walls.

I tried to shift but couldn't.

My mouth was gagged. My hands were zip-tied behind the chair. My ankles were cuffed.

My head throbbed. My skin burned where they'd dragged me.

Where was I?

Then fear struck hard and fast.

I blinked, shaking off the haze from my eyes. Then I saw the shadows shift, and the door creaked open.

And then I saw him.

Yes! Leo Serrano. He walked in, looking like a ghost summoned from the darkest recesses of my betrayal.

He stood in the shadows, sleeves rolled up, forehead pressed against his shoulder.

"Ah, look who's awake," he drawled, reclining with fingers in his coat pockets. "Our silent bride."

I stuttered. "You..."

"Raine," he whispered, stepping into the light. "You just don't listen."

He pulled out a chair and sat across from me. Knees bent. Elbows on his knees, loose and casual.

As if he'd come over for tea time.

"You were warned. Hell, even I tried to assist you. But you're obstinate, aren't you? Always poking your nose where it's not wanted."

I glared. I did not blink, even when the gag bit deeper into my cheeks.

He leaned closer, elbows still resting on his knees. "This is what you are going to do for me," he said. You are going to make a video. Tearful. Regretful. You are going to admit to poisoning Cassian, to forgery of the marriage contracts, and the embezzling of funds. All of it."

I shook my head violently.

He grinned. "You're going to do it, Raine. Because if you don't." —he took out his phone from his jacket— "...you'll never see him again."

He played a video.

Cassian.

Tied to a chair. Hooked to a machine. His breathing hard. Blood dried at his temple.

Alive… But barely living.

I gagged on a sob.

Leo's look flashed into a glare. "You're just a prop, Raine. A petty tool. The type of men like Cassian toy with to polish their public image. However, those days are over now. You've served your purpose. You've become useless."

He rose to his feet. "Fifteen minutes."

He departed.

The door shut behind him.

I lost it. Hyperventilating. Choking on the gag.

Then I heard it.

A sound.

A faint clink.

From the air vent on the side wall.

A tiny object dropped from the grate.

A hairpin.

Someone was watching me.

I spun until it was between two fingers. My fingers were numb, wrists aching. I forced the pin into the zip tie lock. My hand bled, but damn the consequence.

Click.

One wrist free.

Then the other one.

I unlocked my ankles next, trembling with adrenaline and rage.

I crawled across the floor, ignoring the pain in my spine. I pushed the vent with my hands and crawled in. My body barely fit in, but I had to squeeze it, as that is the only way out. I had dust in my mouth and throat, but that didn't stop me.

I would not die here.

Fifty-five minutes later – Ashcroft Penthouse

I shut the door behind me, locked all three deadbolts, and fell to the floor. My lungs were heaving for air. I was dirty, bruised, and shuddering.

But alive.

I helped myself up and dragged my body to Cassian's office.

The desk drawer. The secret floorboard beneath.

I burst it open and there it was! What I was hoping would be inside.

A small velvet box. A silver key inside.

And a rumpled sheet of paper in Cassian's writing.

If you're reading this, they got to me.

Trust the vault. Not the people. Not even me.

I clutched my fist around the key.

And then—

There's a loud thump on the door.

Three times

Slow but heavy.

I froze.

Cassian's voice came back in a flash: If they knock… It's already too late.

I pulled the lock from the drawer and moved stealthily towards the door.

Then I heard a voice:

"Raine. It's Julian."

I refused to believe the voice.

"Prove it," I growled.

Silence. Then:

"Ashcroft's first patent was for vineyard filtration. You said it would sound like something a wine snob would trademark."

I could feel my hands trembling as I unlocked the door.

Julian stood before me— all sweaty, battered, eyes frantic.

"They see it all," he gasped. "Larsson's making moves on the board. Ophelia's planting seeds. If Cassian's been declared dead, you lose everything. Including protection."

I took out the key.

He went still.

"You found it."

"What's it for?" I ask

He hesitated. "The vault. The real one. Cassian's last contingency. The last clue in the game of inheritance."

He handed me a card. An address.

"Sterling Foundry. Basement vault. Door marked 'Ashes.'"

I nodded.

Julian grasped my wrist. "If you go, be prepared..."

"For what?"

He looked at me.

"For the truth about Cassian Ashcroft. And who he is."

Hours Later

Rain warped the city lights. I stood at the penthouse window, the silver key clutched in my fist.

A buzz on my phone.

An Unknown Number.

He's alive.

But he's not the man you loved.

You've already been selected as his replacement.

I swallowed hard.

Then—

Three knocks at the door.

No buzz. No warning.

Just that ominous sequence.

I reached for my gun. Moved cautiously to the door. Every nerve in my body was screaming.

Then there was a voice.

Low and tired but familiar.

"Raine… "

I stood still.

That can't be…

I hurriedly yanked the door open.

Cassian was standing there.

Alive.

Drenched from the rain. His suit is tattered. Bruises spread on his temple. Blood at the edge of his collar.

His eyes met mine, unreadable.

"Miss me?" he asked.

And then he collapsed into my arms.