After My Groom Murdered My Parents, I Planned My Escape

I stumbled toward the hotel room door, my legs still weak from the sedatives. The hallway stretched before me like a tunnel, promising escape from the nightmare behind me. My hands trembled as I fumbled with the handle.

"Going somewhere?"

Gavin's voice froze me in place. He stood in the doorway, his tall frame blocking my path. The man I'd married yesterday—the man who'd promised to protect me—now looked like a stranger.

"I need air," I whispered, trying to step around him. "I need to think."

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist with bruising force. "You're not going anywhere, Rosalie."

"I heard you," I blurted out, my voice cracking. "On the balcony. I heard everything—the fire, my parents, Nadia..."

Something shifted in his eyes—the warmth draining away like water through sand. "You don't know what you heard."

"I heard enough!" I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. "You killed them! You killed my parents!"

Gavin's face hardened into a mask of cold authority. "You're hysterical. The doctors warned me this might happen."

"Let me go!" I screamed, clawing at his hand. "You're a monster!"

"Dr. Mercer," Gavin said calmly into his phone. "My wife is experiencing paranoid delusions. Yes, exactly as you predicted. Can you come immediately?"

He ended the call, his expression almost pitying. "Smoke inhalation combined with grief can cause serious psychological symptoms, Rosalie. The doctor will help you calm down."

"No!" I struggled against him, but he held me immobile. "Gavin, please—"

"It's for your own good," he murmured, stroking my hair with false tenderness. "You need rest."

---

A week later, I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Gavin's Manhattan penthouse, watching the city lights blur through my tears. The apartment was a monument to modern luxury—all glass, steel, and cold perfection.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" Gavin's reflection appeared beside mine. "You can see half of Manhattan from here."

I didn't respond. My body had healed—the doctors had cleared me of any physical damage—but inside, I was hollow.

"I need access to my accounts," I said finally. "The Harper trust—"

"Has been frozen," Gavin finished smoothly. "For your protection."

I spun to face him. "My protection?"

"The fraud investigation is ongoing. Until it's resolved, the board has decided to secure all assets." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry about money, Rosalie. I'll take care of everything."

"You mean you've locked me out," I whispered.

"I mean I'm protecting what's left of your family's legacy." He stepped closer, his cologne suffocating me. "No one will believe accusations from a grieving widow suffering from paranoid delusions."

I backed away, my mind racing. No money, no phone, no allies. Just Gavin's word against mine—and who would choose mine over his?

---

"Rosalie, I'd like you to meet Nadia Lopez."

I looked up from my untouched plate to see a woman with sleek dark hair and calculating eyes. She wore a tailored suit that hugged every curve, her smile sharp as a blade.

"Nadia is joining us as Chief of Staff," Gavin explained, pulling out her chair. "She'll be handling the Harper merger."

"Merger?" The word felt like acid on my tongue.

"Acquisition," Nadia corrected smoothly, her gaze sliding over me like oil on water. "The Harper holdings are being absorbed into Martinez Industries."

I stared at her, then at Gavin. "That's illegal. The trust—"

"Is under review," Gavin cut in. "Nadia will be staying with us to facilitate the transition."

"Us?" I echoed weakly.

"Yes, I've moved into the guest suite," Nadia said, her voice dripping honey. "I do hope we'll be great friends."

Under the table, her foot found mine, pressing down hard enough to make me gasp. When I looked up, her smile widened, predatory and triumphant.

"Is something wrong?" Gavin asked, though his eyes never left Nadia's face.

"Nothing at all," Nadia answered for me, reaching for her wine glass. "Rosalie's just adjusting to her new reality."

I watched as she leaned toward Gavin, her fingers brushing his arm with deliberate intimacy. He didn't pull away. He didn't even notice my presence anymore.

As Nadia's foot pressed harder against mine, I realized with sickening clarity that my prison wasn't just this penthouse—it was Gavin himself. And now, there were two jailers watching my every move.