Escaping The Obsessive Billionaire's Cage

The next morning, bright sunlight poured through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the intricate patterns of the handmade Persian rug in the living room. It was a stark, mocking contrast to the suffocating gloom of the previous night. Audra sat on the velvet sofa like a hollow wooden puppet. Her posture was rigid, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The massive flat-screen television in front of her was playing the morning financial news at a low volume. Marla, the head maid, walked over carrying a silver tray with a bowl of warm oatmeal. Her eyes were sharp, constantly darting toward Audra, monitoring her every breath. On the television, the news anchor's voice suddenly rose in pitch, filled with manufactured excitement. "Breaking news from Silicon Valley. Tech billionaire Eben Gill is officially off the market. The elusive CEO is set to announce his engagement tonight." The screen cut to a high-definition, full-screen photograph of a couple. Audra's dead eyes drifted lazily toward the screen. The moment the image registered in her brain, her pupils dilated. Her breathing stopped entirely. She shot up from the sofa. The sudden, violent movement caused her knee to slam hard into the heavy brass coffee table. The coffee cup on the table tipped over. It shattered against the floor. Dark, scalding liquid splashed across her bare calves and stained the expensive rug. Marla let out a sharp gasp. She dropped the tray and lunged forward, her hands reaching out to grab Audra's shoulders and force her back down. Audra violently slapped Marla's hands away. She didn't feel the burning coffee on her legs. Her eyes were locked onto the face of the man on the television screen. Those deep amber eyes. The sharp, arrogant angle of his jaw. The exact curve of his nose. It was identical to the man who had plummeted into the freezing river three years ago. A bright red banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen: Eben Gill and Burke heiress Corie to host charity engagement gala tonight at The Plaza. Audra's heart began to hammer against her ribs with terrifying speed. A loud, rushing noise filled her ears. Her chest he heave as she dragged air into her lungs. "Impossible," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He died..." Her trembling fingers reached out toward the screen, as if she could physically touch the pixels forming his face. A violent surge of adrenaline flooded her veins, shattering the numbness that had paralyzed her for three years. She had to go there. She had to see him with her own eyes. Even if it was just a man who looked exactly like him, she had to know. Audra spun around and sprinted toward the massive front doors of the estate. Two broad-shouldered men in black suits stepped out from the shadows, instantly blocking her path. "Mr. Hopper gave strict orders. You are not to step a single foot outside these doors," the guard on the left stated, his face a wall of stone. Audra ground her teeth together. She didn't fight them. She took a step back, her eyes darting toward the French doors leading to the back gardens. She turned and walked back toward the hallway, feigning defeat. She slipped into her bedroom and quickly stripped off her stained silk pajamas. She pulled on a thin silk dress and a plain, black trench coat, her hands shaking so badly she could barely manage the buttons. She waited. At exactly ten o'clock, the security guards rotated shifts, and Marla went to the kitchen to consult with the chef. Audra slipped into the small, narrow guest bathroom on the first floor. She climbed onto the toilet seat and pushed open the tiny ventilation window. She squeezed her shoulders through the tight frame. The window overlooked a dense patch of rose bushes. She fell forward, crashing into the thick branches. Sharp thorns sliced through the fabric of her coat, tearing deep, bleeding scratches into her arms and cheeks. She ignored the stinging pain. She scrambled to her feet, keeping her body low, using the bushes to hide from the security cameras. She ran toward the rusted side gate at the far edge of the property. The heavy iron padlock on the gate was old and loose. Audra dropped to her knees. She grabbed a heavy, jagged landscaping rock from the dirt. She raised it high and smashed it down against the padlock with all her strength. Clang. The metal groaned. She hit it again, her knuckles scraping against the iron, peeling the skin away. Clang. The lock snapped open and fell into the dirt. Audra shoved the heavy iron gate open and stumbled out onto the empty suburban road. A beaten-up pickup truck was rumbling down the street, having just delivered supplies to a neighboring estate. Audra ran into the middle of the road, waving her bleeding arms frantically. The truck screeched to a halt. The driver rolled down the window, looking at her in shock. Audra didn't speak. She unclasped the heavy diamond bracelet from her wrist-the only piece of jewelry Anderson forced her to wear-and shoved it through the open window into the driver's lap. "The Plaza. Manhattan. Now," she gasped, pulling the passenger door open and climbing inside. The truck rattled as it sped through the darkening streets of the city. The neon lights of Manhattan flashed across Audra's pale, scratched face, illuminating the absolute, reckless desperation in her eyes. The truck finally jerked to a stop across the street from The Plaza. The entrance was a sea of flashing cameras, red velvet ropes, and luxury cars. Audra pushed the heavy truck door open. The biting Manhattan wind whipped her tangled hair across her face. She pulled the black trench coat tightly around her shivering body. Her eyes were fixed on the brilliantly lit entrance of the hotel. She stepped off the curb, walking straight toward the chaos.