Escaping My Vicious Billionaire Husband

The heavy metal doors of the federal prison groaned open.

The screeching sound of rusty hinges echoed in the damp morning air. Colette stepped out of the dark concrete tunnel. The sudden glare of the sun stabbed at her eyes. She hadn't seen unfiltered sunlight in two years.

Dwayne Boggs, the prison guard, shoved her hard between the shoulder blades.

"Move it," he grunted.

Colette stumbled forward. Her worn sneakers scraped against the rough concrete, and she barely caught her balance before her knees hit the ground.

She stood up straight and sucked in a deep breath. The air smelled like wet dirt and exhaust fumes, but it was the smell of freedom. The tight, permanent knot in her shoulders finally dropped a fraction of an inch.

She lifted her head, scanning the empty road for the bus stop.

Instead, a massive, black armored SUV sat idling by the curb. It looked like a military tank wrapped in glossy paint. It completely blocked her path.

The heavy passenger door swung open.

A man stepped out. He was built like a brick wall, his face devoid of any human emotion. Colette recognized him instantly. It was K. Bishop, the head of security for Ferris Vance.

Bishop marched toward her. His massive frame blocked out the sun, casting a cold shadow over her.

Colette's stomach dropped to her shoes. Her survival instincts screamed at her to run. She took a quick step back, trying to pivot and sprint past him.

Bishop didn't even flinch. He reached out with a thick hand encased in black leather.

His fingers clamped around her thin bicep like a steel vice.

"Let go of me!" Colette screamed, her voice cracking with terror. She thrashed against his grip and whipped her head around toward the prison gates. "Help! Dwayne, help me!"

Bishop reached into his tailored jacket and casually tossed a thick, unmarked white envelope onto the ground near the gate. Dwayne Boggs stood right inside the gates. He looked directly at her. Then, his eyes flicked down to the envelope. With a blank expression, he picked it up, turned his back, and hit the red button on the wall. The metal doors began to slide shut, sealing away her only hope.

Bishop yanked her forward. She was completely defenseless against his raw strength. He dragged her to the SUV, pulled open the rear door, and shoved her inside.

The door slammed shut behind her.

The bright morning light vanished, replaced by the dark tint of the armored windows. The air inside the cabin was suffocatingly cold, thick with the expensive, heavy scent of cedarwood cologne.

Colette pushed herself up from the leather floorboards. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Her eyes locked onto a pair of irises as cold and unforgiving as arctic ice.

Ferris Vance sat perfectly still in the shadows of the plush leather seat. His long, tailored legs were crossed. His long fingers lazily spun a silver lighter over his knuckles.

Colette's pupils dilated. A violent tremor ripped through her entire body.

Ferris let out a low, dark chuckle. The sound scraped against her eardrums. He looked at her like she was a stray dog bleeding on his expensive upholstery.

"Ferris, please," Colette choked out. Her hands shook so hard she had to press them against her thighs. "I didn't do it. I swear to God, I had nothing to do with what happened to Ellie. I'm innocent."

The amusement vanished from Ferris's face. Pure, unadulterated murder flashed in his eyes.

Click.

The silver lighter snapped shut in his palm. The sharp metallic sound echoed like a gunshot in the quiet car.

He lunged forward. His massive chest pinned her back against the door, trapping her in the corner of the cabin.

He leaned in until his lips were an inch from her ear.

"If another lie comes out of your mouth," he whispered, his voice vibrating with rage, "I will make you beg to go back to that cell."

Fear wrapped icy fingers around Colette's throat. She clamped her mouth shut. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Ferris held her gaze for one more agonizing second before giving a sharp nod to the front seat.

The driver slammed his foot on the gas. The SUV tore away from the prison curb, throwing Colette hard against the door panel.

She stared out the tinted glass. The trees blurred past. This wasn't the highway toward the city.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice a fragile whisper.

Ferris leaned back into his seat and smoothed the lapel of his suit.

"City Hall," he stated.

Colette's blood ran cold. She knew exactly what that meant. Panic exploded in her chest. She grabbed the chrome door handle and yanked it with all her might, ready to throw herself onto the asphalt.

Click.

The child locks engaged. The sound severed her last lifeline.