Flash Marriage To The Cold CEO

"I need some water."

Jocelyn hadn't fully thought it through before the words slipped out. They were slowly driving through a desolate industrial area, a shortcut Houston's driver had taken to avoid the main road congestion. The Bentley's engine hummed low and quiet. Houston didn't look at her, only nodded slightly to the driver.

“There’s a convenience store on the corner,” Jocelyn said in a tense voice. “I’ll be right there.”

That was a lie. She needed fresh air. She needed to escape the suffocating luxury of the car and the cold presence of the man beside her. Most importantly, she needed to try calling her mother.

Houston's gaze finally settled on her, sharp and calm. He seemed to be weighing her request, his eyes revealing her hidden motives. After a moment, he nodded again. "Rocco will go with you."

The driver, Rocco, had a stern face and a burly build like a professional boxer. He immediately started to get out of the car.

“No,” Jocelyn said a little too quickly, “please. I just want to be alone for a while.”

Another silence fell. Houston's gaze swept across the side mirror before returning to her, as if calculating her possible escape route. "Alright," he said, lowering his voice by an octave, "but don't leave Rocco's sight. If you cross that corner, even by a single foot, the deal is off."

The car door clicked gently, and the lock opened. Jocelyn practically jumped out, her cheap flats clattering on the sidewalk. The air was damp, smelling of car exhaust, but it felt like the freshest, sweetest air she had ever breathed. She hurried toward the shop on the corner, her heart pounding as if it would burst from her chest.

She did not survive.

To be precise, this was a scheme Vince had planned long ago. The dilapidated Ford pickup truck was parked at the fire lane entrance outside the convenience store on the street corner, perfectly positioned in Rocco's blind spot from the driver's seat of the Bentley. Vince had clearly scouted the location beforehand, knowing that Houston's car would take a shortcut through this industrial area, and also knowing that there was a surveillance blind spot behind that corner.

As Jocelyn rounded the corner, the pickup truck's engine roared to life, and the vehicle abruptly veered sideways, blocking the entire pedestrian walkway. The passenger door practically swung open, and the instant Vince Webber jumped out, he grabbed her wrist with a grip so tight it felt like he could crush bones.

“Oh, look what we have here,” he sneered, his breath reeking of cheap whiskey.

Jocelyn felt her blood freeze. She whirled around, trying to run away, trying to scream, but a thick arm coiled around her waist like a snake and lifted her up. Rick Tucker, his face flushed and his eyes flashing with malice, held her tightly.

"Where are you going, my little bride?" Rick's greasy voice whispered in her ear. His nauseating breath hit her, making her gag.

She struggled with all her might, her nails slicing across Rick's cheek, her knees aimed at his stomach, but the man didn't budge, instead shoving her into the car. She turned to look back—Rocco had jumped out of the car and was charging towards them, but he was still at least fifty meters away. The Bentley, blocking the narrow alleyway, was slowing him down. Vince had timed every second. The metal roller shutters of the warehouses on both sides were all tightly shut, and there wasn't even a stray cat on the concrete road.

"Help!" she screamed, but the street was silent, flanked by two large warehouses. There was no one around.

Rick shoved her into the back seat, and before the door was even fully closed, the pickup truck roared off. Through the narrowing gap in the window, she saw Roc chase after them around the corner, his face ashen, his phone already in his hand.

Vince snatched the phone from her hand. His eyes widened when he saw the photo she had taken of their marriage certificate. He was furious, his face contorted with rage.

"You slut!" he roared, "You actually went to see other men behind my back?"

His hand appeared out of nowhere and slapped her hard across the face, a burning pain instantly spreading across her cheek. Her head jerked to the side, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

However, Rick just chuckled softly, a laugh that was extremely unpleasant. "Married? That's even better. Married to Matthews? Oh, the price to win you back is ridiculously high."

Another man, Spike, slid out of the back seat. He was holding a roll of silver duct tape. Before Jocelyn could scream again, he tore off a piece of tape and shoved it hard against her mouth, the sticky substance tearing at her skin.

Pure, undisguised fear streamed down her face, blurring the filthy interior of the truck. This wasn't escape; it was another kind of hell.

The truck engine roared to life. As Vince drove the truck away from the side of the road, a figure appeared, running frantically along the sidewalk.

That was her mother.

"Vince, no!" Sharon's desperate cries were muffled by the truck window. She ran to the truck, her face streaked with tears and fear, and pounded on the glass with all her might.

"Vince, let her go! You can't treat her like this!"

Inside the truck, she turned her head sharply, her eyes wide with horror, and stared at her mother.

Rick angrily shoved open the back door, just enough to pry Sharon open a crack. She stumbled and fell heavily onto the sidewalk, scraping her hands and knees against the concrete.

The pickup truck lurched forward, its tires screeching as it sped away, leaving Sharon curled up on the ground, her small frame exposed. Jocelyn watched through the rear window as her mother's figure grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight, and her heart shattered.

Her throat was taped shut, preventing her from uttering a single sob.

In the back seat, Rick's attention returned to her. His hand, hot and heavy, landed on her thigh. "Well, Mrs. Matthews," he said in a low voice, "let me see what your new husband has paid for."

He started tearing at the collar of her dress. A primal, raw panic surged through her. She struggled with all her might, kicking, biting at duct tape, and trying to gouge his eyes out with her fingernails. But he was too strong.

Despair washed over her like a tidal wave, cold and utter. She closed her eyes, preparing to bite off her tongue and end it all before he could...

Suddenly, the truck slammed on the brakes. The powerful impact threw them all out of the truck. Rick groaned as his head slammed against the back of the seat in front of him.

"What the hell?" Vince roared from the driver's seat. "Which bastard dares to block my way?"

Jocelyn suddenly opened her eyes.

Through the dirty windshield, she saw it. The Bentley suddenly lurched into a forking alley, swerved sharply, and blocked the entire road.

Vince hurriedly shifted the truck into reverse, but the screeching sound of tires behind him made him stop. Two black SUVs appeared out of nowhere and completely surrounded them.

The driver's side door of the Bentley opened. But it wasn't Houston who stepped out; it was Rocco, expressionless and icy.

Jocelyn's heart skipped a beat. It was Houston's driver, his bodyguard.

Vince and Rick's eyes widened, their bravado vanishing instantly, replaced by a growing, nauseating fear.

Rocco didn't even glance at them. He stood by the car like a silent sentinel. Six more men emerged from the SUV behind him. They were all dressed in identical black suits, moving silently yet in perfect unison, with an efficiency that was chilling. They formed a human wall, completely surrounding the dilapidated pickup truck.

In her suffocating darkness of despair, a faint and fragile ray of light broke through the earth.