CHAPTER NINE

“Gareth.” 

Stephanie stared at the man who, in another lifetime, had been her fiancé.  The man responsible for every minute of agony, degradation, and humiliation she’d endured at his orders, and often at his own hands.  The man responsible for her death. 

Not a physical death, since she was still breathing, but in every other way she’d died five years ago.  As far as the world knew, Jasmine DuBois overdosed in her junior year of college, and was buried in the family mausoleum.  To the world, Jasmine DuBois had been a poor little rich girl with too much money and not enough brains to realize the junk she was putting into her body could kill her.  That partying and getting high meant more than living a life of wealth and privilege. 

The stark truth was she had overdosed that night, on the stuff her friend’s brother gave her.  Back then, she’d been infatuated with Gareth Prescott, wealthy heir to the Prescott estate, with a personal net worth in the millions.  Best friends with Gareth’s sister, they’d started out as acquaintances, and quickly evolved into more. 

Looking back, she realized he’d never loved her.  He’d used her for her connections to other rich kids looking for ways to score, and he’d become their preferred dealer of choice.  Stupid beyond belief, she’d gone to her brother, asking for his help to get her off the cocaine and into rehab.  Somehow, through his network of spies and snitches, Gareth found out.  To this day, she still wasn’t sure how.  She hadn’t told anybody but her brother. 

She remembered waking up on a stretcher, covered with a sheet.  Could still vividly recall every smell—formaldehyde, antiseptic, and, oddly, stale cheese popcorn.  Her brother stood beside her, clutching her hand, and another man, tall, blond, and vaguely familiar stood at his side. 

After that, Samuel Carpenter made everything happen.  Things moved at the speed of a whirlwind, and before she could blink she’d been swept into witness protection, secreted away while they built a stronger case against Gareth Prescott.  One the Feds had been working on for months.  The DEA had wanted to recruit her, have her work undercover to gain more information, but Samuel vehemently opposed that.  He said he owed it to his sister, Lily, to make sure Jasmine could walk away once Prescott was behind bars, and live a normal, happy life.  A new life, with a new identity.  Guess they hadn’t covered her tracks well enough. 

“You were a very hard woman to find, Jasmine.”  The soft-spoken, cultured speech she’d come to loathe sounded in her ears.  She’d never expected to hear or see Gareth again.  He was the reason why she’d faked her death. 

“How’d you get out of prison?” 

A smile curved his lips up.  “Money has a way of smoothing the path, and with enough money, you can get anything.”  He paused to flick a speck of dust off his lapel.  “And I have a lot of money.” 

“Didn’t they strip it all away when they locked you up?” 

“Not everything.  There were several accounts the Feds didn’t find.  And of course, there’s still the family money.  Prescott, Incorporated has prospered significantly since my unfortunate incarceration.” 

A shudder racked her body when she remembered the last time they’d seen each other, across a federal courtroom.  In front of a packed, standing-room only courtroom, he’d threatened to kill her.

“Is that why you’re here?  To kill me?” 

“Jasmine...or do you prefer Stephanie now?  I’m not going to kill you—not unless you force me to.  No, my dear, I have plans for us.  Big plans.” 

The way his eyes slid along her body made her skin crawl, and she fought the bile rising in her throat.  The thought of him putting his hands on her again—inconceivable. 

“Let the others go, Gareth.  You wanted me—you’ve got me.  They’re innocent in all this.”

He shook his head and moved closer.  Standing this close, she noted the fine lines around his dark brown eyes, and the deep grooves bracketing his mouth.  Obviously, his time in prison hadn’t been all fun and games. 

“You’re in no position to make demands, my dear.  Besides, I believe Mrs. Donnelly is desperate to get her precious daughter back.  Negotiations are commencing as we speak for her safe return.”

“What about Marie?  You can let her go.”  Even though she barely knew the other woman, if it meant getting her freedom, she’d swallow her pride and beg for the other woman’s life. 

“Marie?  Ah, you mean the other part of your trio?”  His chuckle was an ugly sound.  “I’m afraid your friend isn’t who you think.  She belongs to me.  I arranged for her to get chummy with Tabitha Donnelly, because I knew Tabitha is your friend.  Yes,” he chuckled again at Stephanie’s gasp, “I’ve known where you were for quite some time.  Nobody is ever really hidden, no matter how good the documentation and fake IDs.” 

Had everything she’d endured been for nothing?  No, she couldn’t think that.  She’d helped put him behind bars once.  Her life with Carpenter Security was a fulfilling one.  They were family.  Maybe not by blood, but sometimes there are things dearer than a blood relationship.  She loved her job, her friends, and her apartment.  She even loved Samuel Carpenter, who treated her like a younger sister.

There had always been an element of risk moving back to New Orleans, but with the plastic surgery and different colored hair, they thought it would be safe enough.  Looked like they’d been wrong.

“What’s with the armed mercenaries?  I’m assuming they’re mercenaries or guerillas?” 

“Good help.  Precautions to make sure you didn’t cut and run before I arrived.  You do have a tendency to be...unpredictable.  And I’ve waited for our reunion for so long, Jasmine.  Anticipation has been my ally.” 

She hated the way he said her name—her old name.  He’d always drawn it out, saying it like a caress until she hated the sound of it on his lips.  It’s why when they’d changed her identity, she’d gone with something totally different, so completely different from the name she’d lived with all her life.   

“I hate to sound like an overused cliché, but you can’t keep me here.” 

Gareth reached forward and cupped her cheek.  “Oh, sweetheart, of course I can.”  With his other hand, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small communication device, and depressed the button.  “Bring in our guest.” 

Within seconds, the sound of a car door slamming could be heard, even through the closed doors.  She heard footsteps outside, approaching the study. 

The doors swung inward, and she gasped.  A tall man was shoved into the room, his hands tied in front of him, and a cloth sack over his head. 

Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew Gareth well, and knew exactly who he’d use for leverage.  The one person she knew was coming for her.  The man she longed to see again, and yet dreaded seeing his beloved face revealed. 

The soldier whipped the bag off the man’s head, and she stared into the eyes of Etienne Boudreau.