Captive Bride: Escaping The Masked Monster

"Two hundred thousand dollars, Dr. Hayes. If the balance isn't cleared by three o'clock this afternoon, the hospital administration will legally halt the life-support medication."

The blonde nurse behind the billing counter tapped her pen against the reinforced glass.

Chloe Hayes stared at the itemized bill in her hands. Her fingers gripped the edges of the crisp white paper so tightly her knuckles turned a translucent white. The printed numbers blurred together. Her chest tightened, the air trapping itself in her throat. She could hear the frantic, irregular thumping of her own heart in her ears.

She was a doctor. She knew exactly what halting that medication meant for her mother. It meant death.

Chloe forced air into her burning lungs. She reached into her scrub pocket with trembling fingers, pulling out her phone. She needed to call the predatory loan companies again. She needed to beg.

Before her thumb could hit the screen, a hand slammed down over her phone.

Long, acrylic nails painted a glossy blood-red clicked against the glass screen.

Chloe's head snapped up.

Vivian Sinclair stood there—her aunt by marriage, the wife of Chloe's late father's younger brother. Vivian's Chanel tweed jacket was immaculate, the heavy scent of synthetic roses and expensive leather rolling off her. She reached into her Birkin bag and pulled out a cashier's check. She pinched it between two red nails and waved it inches from Chloe's face.

The number on the check was exactly two hundred thousand dollars.

Chloe took a sharp step back. The soles of her sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floor. Her stomach plummeted.

"What kind of sick game are you playing now, Vivian?" Chloe's voice shook, raspy and dry.

Vivian offered a cold, razor-thin smile. "Your father's company is filing under the Bankruptcy Code by Friday, Chloe. We are liquidating everything. This piece of paper is the only thing standing between your mother and a body bag."

Chloe's teeth sank into her lower lip. She bit down hard, welcoming the sharp sting of pain to keep herself grounded. "What do you want?"

Vivian lowered her voice, leaning in close. "Joy—your cousin, my daughter—was supposed to marry Julian Montgomery IV today. The Montgomery heir. He's handsome, wealthy, a great catch. Every family on the Gold Coast wanted that match. But Joy fell ill last night. High fever, couldn't even stand. She's in no condition to go through with the ceremony. The Montgomerys won't accept another postponement. You are going to put on the veil, sign the proxy papers, and take her place."

The blood drained from Chloe's face. Her fingertips went ice-cold. "You want me to marry a stranger to cover for Joy's sickness? You're insane. I won't do it."

Vivian didn't blink. She simply raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

Down the hallway, two massive men in tailored black suits stepped out from the shadows. They didn't look at Chloe. They turned their broad shoulders and began walking directly toward the Intensive Care Unit. Toward Sarah Price's room.

Chloe's heart skipped a beat. A cold sweat broke out across her spine. Vivian had bought off the hospital administration. They were going to pull the plug right now.

"Stop!" Chloe gasped, her voice cracking.

Vivian shoved a thick stack of legal papers and a silver Montblanc pen into Chloe's chest.

From the end of the hall, the muffled, high-pitched alarm of an ICU monitor began to blare. The sound pierced straight through Chloe's eardrums, vibrating in her teeth. Her psychological defenses shattered into dust.

She tasted copper. She had bitten through her lip.

A drop of blood swelled on her mouth as she snatched the pen. Her hand shook violently, the silver metal slipping against her sweaty palm. Her eyes scanned the bold header—PROXY MARRIAGE AGREEMENT—and the rest of the text blurred into an incomprehensible wall of legalese. The only words that mattered were the ones Vivian had spoken. Sign, or your mother dies. She pressed the nib to the paper, tearing the page slightly as she signed her name.

Vivian snatched the papers back with a triumphant smirk.

Instantly, the two men in black suits pivoted. They flanked Chloe, their massive hands clamping down on her biceps like iron vices.

"Let me see her!" Chloe thrashed, her sneakers kicking out. "Let me see my mother!"

The guards ignored her screams. They dragged her backward, her shoes skidding across the polished floor, hauling her straight out the hospital's rear exit.

The humid New York air hit her face. A black Cadillac SUV sat idling by the loading dock, its engine emitting a low, predatory growl. The guards shoved her into the backseat.

The heavy door slammed shut. The locks engaged with a heavy, mechanical thud.

The SUV shot forward, throwing Chloe against the leather seats. She scrambled to the window, pressing her palms against the tinted glass as the hospital disappeared behind them.

The cabin was dead silent. The partition separating her from the driver was raised. Chloe pulled her knees to her chest, her stomach twisting into violent knots. The vehicle sped away from the city, merging onto the highway toward the Gold Coast of Long Island.

Night fell quickly, bringing a torrential downpour. Rain lashed against the windows.

The SUV slowed, turning off the main road and passing through a pair of towering, wrought-iron gates. The gates groaned shut behind them, sealing her inside a sprawling, gothic estate. The stone mansion loomed in the darkness, its sharp spires cutting into the stormy sky.

The car jerked to a halt.

The door swung open. An older man in a pristine butler's uniform stood in the pouring rain, holding a massive black umbrella.

"Dr. Hayes. I am Arthur Abernathy," the butler said, his face entirely devoid of emotion. "Step out."

Chloe stepped onto the wet cobblestones. The freezing rain splashed against her ankles. Arthur did not wait for her. He turned and marched toward the main entrance. Chloe followed, her wet clothes clinging to her shivering body.

Arthur led her through a cavernous foyer, up a grand sweeping staircase, and straight to the third floor. The hallway was dimly lit by antique sconces. He stopped in front of a heavy oak door.

He pushed it open and stepped aside.

Chloe hesitated, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. She stepped over the threshold.

The moment her feet hit the carpet, Arthur pulled the door shut behind her. The lock clicked into place from the outside.

Chloe was plunged into absolute, suffocating darkness.

The wind howled against the windowpanes. She reached out, her hands blindly sweeping the wall for a light switch. Her fingertips brushed against something cold. Something textured.

It was the fabric of a suit jacket.

A jagged crack of lightning illuminated the room for a fraction of a second.

In that blinding flash, Chloe saw the towering, broad-shouldered silhouette of a man standing mere inches from her.

Julian Montgomery IV lunged.

Before Chloe could scream, a massive, rough hand clamped around her throat.

The force of his grip lifted her off the floor. Her back slammed against the solid oak door. The breath was violently crushed from her lungs.

Another flash of lightning tore across the sky.

The harsh white light illuminated his face. Thick, twisted scars crawled up his jawline, mangling the skin over his cheekbone and pulling at the corner of his eye. It was the face of a demon dragged straight from hell.

Chloe's eyes bulged. Absolute, paralyzing terror seized her brain. Her legs kicked wildly in the empty air.