Chapter 1 - The Deadbolt
For three seconds, I stared at the bedroom door and listened to Derek's footsteps disappear down the hallway.
Then I looked at my phone again.
The notification on the screen was from Olivia Grant, the private investigator I had hired three weeks before the wedding.
I had hired her because Derek had lied about something small.
At least, I had believed it was small.
He had told me he had never been married before.
Then I found an old photograph buried in the tagged section of his college roommate's social media page.
Derek was standing outside a courthouse in a dark suit.
Beside him was a blonde woman wearing a cream-colored dress and holding flowers.
When I asked him about her, he said she had been his cousin's fiancée.
Something about his answer had bothered me enough to hire Olivia.
Now her message filled my screen.
CHLOE, DO NOT CONFRONT DEREK.
I FOUND ALLISON REED.
SHE IS ALIVE.
SHE SAYS SHE IS STILL LEGALLY MARRIED TO HIM.
I read the words twice.
Then a third time.
My knees almost gave out.
Yesterday afternoon, I had stood in a chapel wearing my mother's veil and promised to love Derek for the rest of my life.
Fourteen hours later, I was locked inside his family's mansion because I had refused to kneel in grease.
And according to Olivia, I might not even be his wife.
Another message appeared.
There is more.
Allison says you are in danger if Brenda realizes you know.
My eyes moved toward the door.
Suddenly the humiliation downstairs made sense in a much darker way.
The spilled oil.
The rag.
The command to kneel.
That had not been spontaneous cruelty.
It had been a test.
They wanted to know whether I would obey.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and forced myself to think.
The bedroom was on the second floor.
The windows overlooked the east terrace.
Twenty feet below me was a stone patio that would break both ankles if I jumped.
But during the wedding preparations, I had noticed something else.
An old servants' balcony ran beneath the bathroom windows.
I rushed into the bathroom.
The window was painted shut.
I grabbed a brass hairbrush from the vanity and struck the frame until the old paint cracked.
The window finally lifted three inches.
Then six.
Cold October air rushed inside.
Behind me, footsteps returned.
I froze.
A key scraped against the bedroom lock.
Derek was coming back.
I pushed the bathroom window higher and climbed onto the marble counter.
The bedroom door opened.
"Chloe?"
I slid one leg through the window.
His footsteps stopped.
"What are you doing?"
I dropped onto the narrow balcony outside.
Derek ran into the bathroom just as I pulled the window down.
His face appeared behind the glass.
For the first time that morning, my new husband's confidence disappeared.
He slapped both hands against the window.
"Chloe!"
I smiled at him through the glass.
Then I turned and ran.
May you like
Because Derek still thought the locked bedroom was his trap.
He had no idea that before the day was over, I intended to put him inside it.
