Pawned

James Miller didn't say anything the whole way until he finally stopped his car in front of an abandoned warehouse.

"Get out," said him coldly.

"What are we doing here?" asked Becky, worried. She crossed her arms over her chest, afraid that he would sexually harass her.

James Miller unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to stare at her silently, seconds later suddenly he came closer and said, "Don't worry you're not my type, and you know what? You're not that pretty after all..."

Becky pushed him away from her face then hurriedly opened the car door and got off with her chest heaving in annoyance. From outside the car, she could see James Miller grinning intimidatingly.

Seconds later, she followed him into the warehouse. She bit her lip, thinking of the best way to fight him if he ever dared to touch her. At the main entrance which was an old rusty heavy steel door, two men in black jackets stood guard while chatting with each other. They immediately straightened up when they saw James Miller appear together with Becky standing behind him.

The door swung wide open, the smell of rusty iron wafting through her senses. She frowned but managed to keep herself from saying anything.

But suddenly the sight in front of her made her scream in horror.

"Dad!" she ran to the center of the room where William Beckett was tied to a chair. He was surrounded by James' bodyguards.

"Becky..." called William Beckett in surprise, from his eyes, Becky could tell that her father didn't expect James Miller to take Becky to that place.

With trembling steps, Becky walked over to her father, but about six feet from him she stopped.

"It was all a mistake, right? You didn't steal the painting did you?" she asked, her face full of hope. She hoped her father would nod and explain that it was all a misunderstanding, but William Beckett just sat there with tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Becky..." that was all he could say.

Becky's legs felt weak, she swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying not to scream.

"Why?" she asked almost in a whisper. "Why are you doing this to us?! Didn't you think about how Alex and Phoebe would feel if they heard about this?" she asked shakily.

"I'm doing this for you guys," said William, his eyes on his daughter, teary.

"No, don't make excuses like that just to justify what you've done!" shouted Becky, her chest heaving with anger.

"I'm tired of being a useless father! You've been working for us all this time! How could I sit still watching you work day and night!" cried William in tears.

"Don't lie to your daughter, you don't have to steal a four hundred million dollar painting if that's the only reason," interrupted James Miller, suddenly standing next to Becky with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes were fixed on William Beckett sharply.

Becky was silent, she didn't know what to say.

"Mr. Miller, please let me go, I will go to Sergio Antonov and ask him to return the painting no matter what," said William Beckett, looking up at James Miller with pleading eyes.

"Are you sure? Didn't you share your money with some of your friends? How are you going to return that four hundred million to me? Are you trying to play a trick on me? You think I didn't know you were going to run away?" said James Miller with disdain.

William Beckett turned to Becky and said "You can keep my daughter as a guarantee, I'm pawning her to you willingly as you asked me..."

Becky widened her eyes in surprise, she never thought her father would ever say such a thing, and her heart broke instantly. She shook her head in disbelief.

"I promise I'll be back Becky, I promise, don't worry about Alex and Phoebe, Nina will take care of them, for us..." William Beckett said trying to calm Becky who was very angry.

James Miller clapped his hands and laughed, "You're a typical jerk dad! I thought you'd beg me to just kill yourself and set your daughter free, but oh God, you're insanely asshole!" said he in disbelief.

"Tell me why did you steal that painting?!" shouted Becky with her hands tightly clenched.

William Beckett closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I can't say anything about it now Becky, please, believe me, I'll be back to set you free," he said earnestly but unfortunately his daughter couldn't believe in him, especially after she found out that he was hiding something from her.

"Okay, that's enough!" shouted James, signaling his men to get Becky out of there.

"I need to talk to you," he said pulling up a chair and sitting across from William Beckett who looked terrified. Becky just looked at her father in disappointment and didn't say anything, but the tears that trickled down her face explained everything.

She walked out of the warehouse without a fight, her soul felt so empty, how could her father pawn her to James Miller willingly?

She crouched near a tree, studied her injured heel, grabbed a small rock then threw it far away into the empty street.

"May I borrow your cell phone?" she asked a bodyguard who was standing not far from her.

"I'm not doing anything without Mr. Miller's approval," the bodyguard replied flatly.

Charlotte snorted, just as she turned her gaze to the warehouse door, James Miller emerged from there with wide strides. His eyes stared at her intently.

She remained where she was crouching, in no mood to rise to her feet or greet him. She rubbed her bare feet, her face looked pale and gloomy.

"Paul, take off your shoes," said James Miller to the bodyguard standing next to Becky.

"Yes?" Paul looked at his boss in bewilderment.

"I said take off your shoes!" he snapped in his stern voice.

Paul took off his loafers and put them on the ground.

"Hey, put those shoes on," said James Miller, looking down at Becky.

"Hey pawn slave!" he shouted once more because Becky didn't answer.

"You talking to me?" she looked up in surprise.

James Miller snorted, he pushed Paul's shoe towards her with his foot. "Put this on!" he snapped.

Becky looked up, surprised, not expecting someone like James Miller to do such a thing to her.

James Miller crouched down, he brought his face closer to her and whispered, "I didn't tell you to wear those shoes because I care, but I did it because I don't want you to dirty my expensive car with your dirty feet..."

*****