No Longer a Stand-In

Sarah's POV

I bit my lip and switched to alcohol. James didn't know that in my eight years as his secretary, I'd developed a stomach ulcer and couldn't drink.

"I can't drink alcohol."

"Emma, don't drink. Your stomach condition will act up tonight."

"You're so caring, James. But that was eight years ago," Emma cooed.

My heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly.

He remembered Emma's stomach issues so clearly, yet when I was hospitalized for ulcers, he hadn't noticed at all - and now he was forcing me to drink.

I grabbed the bottle and took large gulps.

The alcohol burned my stomach, but I couldn't feel it. My heart hurt more.

"Such a good drinker, yet you claimed you couldn't drink. Sarah, do you have a problem with my girlfriend?" James watched me with a mocking smile.

Suddenly, acid rushed up my throat. I rushed out, doubled over in the bathroom, violently sick.

After finishing, I returned to the room.

The party was still lively, with James holding Emma close, both laughing intimately.

I quietly grabbed my bag and left.

Goodbye, James.

I'd booked a flight home for tomorrow.

Let tonight be our final farewell.

Leaving the bar, I'd barely walked a few steps when hands grabbed me from behind and dragged me into an alley.

"Who are you? Let go! What do you want?"

"What do we want?" Several thuggish men blocked my path, leering. "What do you think, pretty girl? Come play with us!"

I screamed in panic, "Help! Someone help me!"

Just then, James and Emma's group left the bar.

Hearing my screams, James immediately rushed over, landing a heavy punch on my captor's face.

"Let her go! Do you have a death wish?"

As my captor fell, I quickly broke free and hid behind James. "I was so scared. James, thank goodness you're here..."

Still shaken, I clutched my chest, secretly happy despite my panic.

James rushing to protect me must mean he still cared.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached for his hand, when suddenly a scream rang out behind us.

"Help! James, save me!"

Two men were dragging Emma deeper into the alley. James immediately rushed over, kicking one in the stomach.

"Don't be scared, Emma!" He held her protectively, terrified she might be hurt. "It's okay, I'll always protect you!"

The thugs blocked the alley entrance. "Playing hero, are we?"

"You can only take one with you! Otherwise, we'll take both women!"

Without a moment's hesitation, James grabbed Emma. "I choose her!"

In that moment, I finally understood true heartbreak.

The man James had punched got up and said to me: "Miss Garnett, this wasn't our deal!

"Didn't you say we just had to pretend? We got beaten up - that'll cost extra!"

I stared at them, confused. "What money? What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you promise to pay us to kidnap that woman and put on an act? Don't tell me you forgot!"

Rage flared in James's eyes. "What?"

"Sarah, how could you stoop so low? You're despicable!"

I looked at him in disbelief, utterly disappointed. "James, is that really what you think of me?"

He looked disgusted. "Haven't you done enough to Emma? Why should I believe you?"

"You're so insanely jealous of Emma, nothing surprises me anymore."

Emma sobbed in his arms. "Why, James? What did I do to make Sarah hate me so much?"

When James couldn't see, she flashed me a triumphant smile.

Suddenly everything clicked - this was just another of Emma's schemes.

"It wasn't me, it was her!" I desperately tried to prove my innocence to James. "She hired these men to frame me!"

"Shut up!" James roared. "Even now you're trying to smear Emma's name? Sarah, when will you stop?"

With that, he turned and carried Emma away quickly, as if he couldn't bear to look at me anymore.

Once they left, the men grabbed my wrists tightly. "Let's drag her in and have some fun!"

"What a body she's got! Well, beautiful, we're just doing what we're paid for. Blame that Miss Leonard if you want!"

"No, don't touch me!"

I screamed in panic, but James's figure grew more distant. He never looked back once.

The men cornered me in the alley, tearing at my clothes.

In my desperation, a single tear rolled down my cheek.