Kidnapped… Or not?

Diana’s pov

Two things hit me, shattering my world into a million tiny pieces.

My sister is pregnant.

And she's married to my fiancé.

The words echoed in my mind, over and over, until I thought I might go insane. It's been three days since I found out, and the pain is still as raw as it had been the moment I saw them leaving the courthouse–– her glowing with happiness, him looking at her like she was his entire world.

I'd run then, just like I always did. But this time, I had a destination. Home. My home. A small studio apartment in downtown LA, the one place that was still mine. The one place where I could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in on me.

The drive had been a blur, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mind raced with questions I couldn't answer, and a pain so deep it felt like it might consume me.

When I finally pulled into the parking garage, my phone buzzed incessantly. The screen lit up with missed calls and voicemails–– dozens of them. The bank. My job. Even my mother had left me countless messages.

I ignored them all.

The elevator ride to my floor felt like an eternity, and I was fighting each second to keep my emotions in check. But when I stepped into my apartment and closed the door behind me, the dam broke.

I slid down to the floor, my back against the for, and let the tears come. They poured out of me in waves, each sob shaking my body until I felt like I might fall apart.

How could they do this to me? My sister–– my own flesh and blood and the man I trusted with my heart. They'd betrayed me in the worst possible way, and I didn't know how to move past it.

My phone buzzed again, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipped a beat when I saw the name. Brian.

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen. Part of me wanted to answer, so I can scream at him, and demand an explanation. But another part of me–– the part that was still raw and bleeding, couldn't bear to hear his voice.

I silenced the call and tossed the phone on the couch, burying my face in my hands.

What was I supposed to do now? How was I supposed to pick up the pieces of my life when everything I'd built had been torn apart?

I stared at my phone, the screen lighting up with another call. Work. The name flashed like a warning, a reminder that I couldn't just disappear, no matter how much I wanted.

My finger hovered over the screen, trembling slightly. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to answer the questions, and face the accusations of what I did.

I took a deep breath, my chest tightening as I swiped to answer the call. It was now or never.

"Hi, it's Diana", I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Dee, it's Mark", my boss's voice was carefree and playful. And did he just call me Dee? Since when? "We need you in the office now, honey".

"I… huh…I can't sir" I stammered, my mind racing for an excuse. "My car is faulty. I…"

"Oh, don't worry about that", Mark interrupted, his tone light but firm. "There's someone outside your apartment waiting for you. He'll bring you safely to work".

Fear rose inside me like a tidal wave. Safely? Was that another word for doomed? And a driver? Why? Was it the police? Was I being driven to work by the police? Serves you right, Diana!

The line went dead before I could respond, my mind racing with possibilities. Should I run when the officers tried to grab me? Or should I cry? Or pretend to faint?

But when I stepped outside for the first time in three days, it was quiet. Too quiet. There were no police cars, no officers in sight. Just a large, muscular man in a suit standing beside an opened car, motioning me for me to get in. "Ma'am, this way".

Ma'am? Who is this guy? Undercover police? SWAT? FBI? CIA?

My heart pounded as I approached the car, my legs feeling like they might give out at any moment. Whoever they were, I couldn't fight or run away. Not with those muscles. I was truly on my own.

The leather seat felt cool beneath me, and there was something oddly expensive about the car. It was sleek, polished, and too perfect  to be a police ride.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. This wasn't just any type of ride, and it was definitely not police material.

I looked around, my eyes darting nervously, and that's when I saw it. The car I was in wasn't just expensive, it was luxurious. The kind of car that screamed power and wealth. The kind of car that didn’t carry criminals.

I snapped a photo of the logo on the side of the car and quickly googled it. A Rolls Royce Phantom. Okay, now I was in serious trouble.

My mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. How do I send an SOS? Oh, God, is Mark going to kill me? Is that why he's kidnapping me? Can I at least say goodbye before he takes me to wherever he wants and kills me?

But before I could spiral further, the car slowed down and pulled up in front of the office building.

I blinked, confused. This wasn't what I expected. Except, he wants to kill me here and dump my body far away.

Before I could process what was happening, men stepped out of cars–– tall, imposing figures in black suits. More undercover police? One of them opened the car door for me, his expression unreadable.

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. Okay, what's happening?

"We're here, Ma'am", the man said, his voice low and commanding.

I stepped out, my legs trembling as I stepped out of the car. The men flanked me, their presence overwhelming, and I half-ran into the building, desperate to put some distance between us.

Inside the lobby, the moment I walked in, the air seemed to freeze. Every single person in the lobby paused what they were doing and turned to look at me.

The receptionist dropped her pen. The security guard froze, even the janitor stopped mopping the floor. They were judging me! They knew! Of course they knew, they attended the wedding. My guests attended my fiance's wedding as his guests!

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for my floor with shaking hands. 

As the doors closed, I caught a glimpse of the men in black suits entering the lobby, their presence made the room uncomfortable. Who are these guys?

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. The office was eerily quiet, the usual buzz of activity was replaced by unsettling silence. Where is everybody?

I walked toward Mark's office, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear voices inside.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the door. Whatever was waiting for me on the other side, I wasn't ready for it.

But I didn't have a choice. I pushed the door and stepped inside.

Mark was sitting behind his desk, his face lit up with excitement when he saw me. Was he… happy? What's going on?

"Oh, Diana, darling. Welcome!", he said, his tone warm and almost giddy.

Darling? Since when did we get there? This day just keeps getting more confusing.

But it wasn't him who made my heart stop.

It was the man standing by the window, his back to me. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an air of power that made the room feel smaller.

He turned, and a small gasp escaped my lips. He was fineeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Damn. He was too perfect! For a second, I forgot to breathe.

"Diana, meet Mr. Aaron Miles. He owns the company", Mark said excitedly, gesturing toward the handsome man.

Aaron Miles. Why did handsome feel so familiar?

I forced a smile, my mind racing. "It's a pleasure to meet you", I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

Wait. Did Mark say he owns the company? That's why the whole place felt off. The boss's boss was here, and I was in big trouble.

Aaron Miles stepped forward, his piercing blue eyes locking on mine. Lord, have mercy!

"The pleasure is mine, Diana", he said, his voice smooth and deep. "I've heard a lot about you".

My heart skipped a beat. The pleasure is mine too, handsome. Wait, what did he mean? What had he heard?

Mark stood up, his excitement palpable. "Aaron is here to discuss some… changes within the company. And he specifically asked to see you".

Shoot me! "Me?", I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron's lips curved into a faint smile. Good God, I WANT! 

Snap out of it, Diana. You're in trouble. You could lose your job, or go to prison. You're a criminal !

"Sir, I'm sorry", I said, my voice trembling. "I'm sorry for what I did. I made a mistake, and I'll make it up, sir. I'll do anything, please".

The tears streamed down my face, and I let them. Good, Diana. That's very good. Keep the tears coming. You're gonna need it.

Aaron Miles took a seat and leaned back, his piercing blue eyes studying me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. For a moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating.

Then, his gaze dropped to my hand, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"That's a beautiful piece you have on", he said, his voice rough, sexy, smooth–– all at once. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Married?"

The question caught me off guard. Does he know? I glanced at the mysterious rock on my finger. It wasn't the ring I'd bought for my wedding. This one was different… more expensive. I could tell.

Somehow, it made me feel safe since I'd discovered it on my finger after the wedding, so I'd left it on the finger Brian's ring should have been.

"Yes", I said quickly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Actually, no".

Aaron's smile widened. "Interesting".

"Where did you get it, Diana?" Aaron asked, his tone sharpening, his piercing eyes locked on mine.

"I… I don't know", I stammered, my voice shaking. "I found it. I don't remember how".

Aaron's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to press further. But then, he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"You'd do anything to make it up?", he said, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite place–– excitement? Amusement?

"Yes, sir. I'd do anything", I said.

Would I? Would I really do anything? The thought terrified me. What if he asked me to do the impossible? What if he asked me for something I couldn't give?

"You'd do anything?" he asked again, his voice low and deliberate, as if testing me.

Why did he keep asking? At this point, I was convinced I was going to prison. There was no way this ended well for me.

I took a deep breath, my mind racing for a way out. Then, in a moment of desperation, I dropped to both knees, a move I'd read was supposed to help in tough situations. I probably looked dramatic, but I was running out of options. I couldn't lose my job, and prison? That wasn't an option I wanted to think about.

Aaron groaned and stood up, his tall frame towering over me. He walked toward me, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Get up. Not here", he said firmly.

"7pm, tonight", he paused . "It's been three days already. And I'm dying to have dinner with my wife".