LONDON'S POINT OF VIEW
He smiled as though my words had no effect on him.
"Sweetheart, I'd love to see you try."
"Stop calling me that."
"Would you rather I call you Slave? That has a nice ring to it too."
I couldn't stand that kind of nickname, so I stayed quiet. Sweetheart was definitely the better option.
"Sweetheart it is, then."
He nodded toward the stairs.
"After you."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and headed upstairs. Carrying my plate, I made my way to the dining area. Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, toast, and a piece of bacon. It wasn't much, but since I never ate very heavily anyway, it was perfect.
I hadn't seen much of the ground floor the last time he had let me out of my cage. I had been too terrified of Crewe to focus on anything else. I watched him constantly, paying attention to his movements and the swing of his arms as he walked. Expecting an attack, I had kept my eyes fixed on him.
But now I felt safe—for the moment.
"This way."
Crewe guided me into a massive kitchen. There were two ovens, two microwaves, and enough space to prepare meals for dozens of people. A large table sat in front of an enormous window that covered nearly the entire wall.
"Would you like some coffee?"
I set down my tray and immediately looked outside, desperate to get an idea of where I was. All I could see were jagged rocks disappearing behind a cliff and the ocean stretching endlessly beyond them. Nothing but blue in every direction.
The view was breathtaking.
And it made me realize how completely alone I was.
There was no escape.
Crewe studied my face, watching my expression change. His brown eyes stood out against the landscape, contrasting with the green grass and the deep blue ocean.
"Don't make me ask again."
The tone of his voice snapped me back to reality.
"Yes, please."
"So you do have manners."
He walked to the counter and poured coffee into a mug.
"I was starting to think you didn't, with all those sarcastic comments."
He returned and set the cup beside my plate.
"Cream or sugar?"
"No, thank you."
I groaned inwardly when the automatic response slipped out. I wanted to be as rude to him as possible.
He smiled.
"I'll be in my office if you need me. Eat your breakfast and feel free to go for a walk."
Was he serious?
"You're going to leave me alone? Outside?"
He moved away with his hands in his pockets, his fitted shirt tucked neatly into his pants. His chest was broad and powerful, and his long legs carried him effortlessly across the room.
"What are you going to do? Swim to Scotland?"
"We're in Scotland?" I blurted out.
"No."
He shifted his weight, his posture remaining perfectly straight.
"We're in the Shetland Islands, north of Scotland. About two hundred and eighty miles from the mainland. So if you want to swim there, good luck."
My jaw dropped.
The reality of my situation crashed down on me. I was thousands of miles from home, on an isolated island in the middle of nowhere.
No wonder it was so cold.
"We're on Fair Isle, the most remote island in the archipelago. My only neighbor lives on the other side of the island. It's a vacation house. They only come here once a year."
"For vacation?"
If I knew when they visited, maybe I could reach them and beg them to call for help.
He shot me a cold look, clearly knowing exactly what I was thinking.
Suddenly, I felt stupid for assuming he was stupid.
"There are no landlines here. We only use satellite phones. There's Wi-Fi, but every computer requires my fingerprint to unlock. Don't waste your time."
"Well... you've obviously kidnapped people before."
He didn't smile at my comment.
"Enjoy your day."
He walked past me, and his masculine scent surrounded me for a moment.
"And if you hurt Finley or Ariel, I'll do the same to you. Finley is an innocent old man who wants nothing but peace. And Ariel isn't very different from you. Don't. Touch. Them."
"But you don't mind if I try to kill you?"
For someone so cold, it was strange that he cared so much about two people who weren't family.
"Do whatever you want, Sweetheart. I'd love an excuse to punish you."
---
I stood at the edge of the cliff with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. The wind was calm at first, but the closer I got to the edge, the stronger it became. My hair whipped behind me, and goosebumps covered my arms.
I saw Finley leave the house and walk toward me, but I tried to ignore him. I wanted to be alone.
Being isolated from the rest of civilization was terrifying.
I was trapped with a madman who was using me to get revenge on my brother. I had no idea what he planned to do with me or how cruel he could really be.
Joseph, you better be looking for me.
If he didn't come rescue me, I didn't know what I'd do. Even if I somehow managed to kill everyone here, how would I get off this island? Crewe had a helicopter, but I wouldn't know how to fly it. As far as I knew, there wasn't a boat either.
Maybe Ariel went home every day.
Unless she lived here.
Was she really just his business partner?
Maybe she was his wife.
He didn't seem like the marrying type.
"Lady London?"
Finley was an older man with a strong Scottish accent. He had reddish-brown hair and freckles scattered across his face. He looked well into his sixties despite the surprising agility in his movements.
That's when I realized something.
Crewe didn't have a Scottish accent.
He had an American accent.
Just like mine.
Interesting.
"Yes?"
I turned toward him, and my heart softened slightly when I noticed the thick jacket and binoculars he was carrying.
"Mr. Donoghue is worried you'll get cold."
He draped the jacket over my shoulders. Since it was three sizes too large and Finley was a much smaller man, I assumed it belonged to Crewe.
"And he wanted you to have these."
He handed me the binoculars.
"If you look along the rocks, you'll see seals and puffins. There's plenty of wildlife around here."
"Oh..."
I accepted them and nodded.
"Thank you."
Finley nodded politely before returning to the house.
I didn't care how kind and sweet he seemed. I couldn't let a charming old man soften my resolve just because he'd given me a jacket and binoculars.
My goal was to leave this island and get my life back.
I belonged in warm, humid New York City.
I should've been doing hospital rounds right now.
Even if I managed to return, I'd already missed classes and clinical training. I hoped the university would give me extra time because of the extraordinary circumstances.
I spent the next several hours exploring the island, admiring the flowers and unique landscape. Despite everything, I couldn't deny how beautiful the place was.
Eventually, I found a comfortable spot near the cliffs and watched seals hunting for fish. Some climbed onto the rocks to enjoy the sunlight, their sleek bodies warming despite the cold wind.
The binoculars were useful, and I actually laughed when one seal fell asleep and accidentally rolled off a rock into the water.
"They're funny, aren't they?"
Crewe appeared beside me wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He sat down on the rock next to me and stared out at the sea.
The moment he came near, my nerves returned.
I'd had a peaceful day until his presence ruined it.
I couldn't let a few moments of kindness fool me.
Beneath that handsome face was a dangerous man.
"They are entertaining."
"On the other islands, there are Shetland ponies. That's what the islands are famous for."
"Why?"
"Lots of breeders live here."
I placed the binoculars on the grass between us.
"There's a room upstairs for you if you'd rather sleep there."
I didn't want to return to the basement cage. There was no natural light, no fresh air. It was freezing cold, and the cot wasn't much better than concrete.
Even standing outside in the cold, his jacket provided more warmth than I'd felt since arriving.
"Probably."
Crewe stared into the distance, his eyes fixed on the endless dark-blue ocean.
"You don't have a Scottish accent."
It wasn't really a question.
"We do."
Without hesitation, he switched to a flawless Scottish accent.
"I can do an English one too."
His voice changed again, sounding exactly like someone from London.
"Why do you use an American accent?"
"Because you're American. I thought it might make you more comfortable."
"Since when do you care whether I'm comfortable?" I mocked. "And how do you know all these accents?"
He ignored the insult.
"I work with many different people in many different places. Accents matter. They help you fit in."
"What do you do when you're not kidnapping people?" I asked sarcastically.
"I have many jobs. That's all you need to know."
"Great conversation," I said bitterly.
He stood and held out his hand.
"Dinner's ready. I came to get you."
I stared at his hand, then looked away.
I refused to touch my enemy.
He might be acting kind now, but only days ago he'd threatened me in order to force my compliance.
I stood on my own and picked up the binoculars.
Crewe didn't seem offended by the rejection.
"Did you have a good day?"
He walked beside me as we headed back toward the house.
"As good as it could be, I guess."
We finished the walk in silence.
Finley had prepared dinner in the formal dining room, a massive hall capable of seating fifty guests. The table stretched the length of the room like something from an old royal castle.
Several candles flickered nearby, and our plates had already been served.
Dinner consisted of freshly caught fish and green vegetables.
I barely touched my food because the idea of eating with my captor disgusted me.
Crewe ate quietly, barely acknowledging my presence.
"Is Ariel your wife?"
I finally took a bite.
"No."
He didn't look up from his plate.
"Why?"
"It just seems strange that she's only your business partner."
He gave me a cold stare.
"Why? Because she's a woman? That's a remarkably sexist thing for a future doctor to say."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Oh, really? It sounded exactly like that."
"I'm surprised because you strike me as a sexist pig. After all, I'm being held here against my will."
I glared at him, making it clear how much I hated him.
"Let's not forget that. We're not two friends having dinner together."
"You make me sound like the villain, but I'm not as bad as you think."
He took a sip of Scotch, an odd choice with fish.
"I strongly disagree."
"Joseph stole four million dollars from me. For some ridiculous reason, he thought he'd get away with it. When he chose to work in criminal intelligence, he knew the people he cared about would become targets if he betrayed the wrong person. And according to my research, you're his only living relative."
TO BE CONTINUED... ❤️
I'd love to hear your theories!
Do you think the hatred between them could eventually become something else?