The Billionaire's Doll: Her Secret Escape
I was just a placeholder, a warm body in silk sheets to keep the bed from getting cold while my billionaire "owner," Garrick Head, dreamt of another man’s wife. To the world, I was Ever Wells, the lucky girl he’d plucked from obscurity, but in reality, I was a doll on a 145-day contract, counting every second until I could disappear.
Everything shattered when a burner phone buzzed in my hand with a message that turned my blood to ice: "I know your secret, Everly."
My real name was the one thing I had buried to protect my four-year-old son, Leo, who was hidden in a cramped apartment in Queens. Just as the blackmailer closed in, Leo’s asthma flared into a life-threatening fever, and the medication he needed cost thousands I didn't have. When I tried to siphon money to save him, Garrick sensed my desperation and froze my credit cards, mocking my "poverty" and demanding I crawl back to his bed to earn his favor.
The nightmare intensified at a high-society gala when Clarence Frazier, a dangerous ghost from my past, cornered me. He mouthed my real name in front of the cameras, his eyes promising to tear my fake life apart. Garrick’s possessiveness turned violent as he broke a man’s jaw for insulting me, yet in the same breath, he reminded me I was nothing but a "rented whore" he’d bought off a shelf.
I had to smile while he kissed me and detach my mind while he touched me, all while siphoning pennies into a hidden account. He thought he could finalize my imprisonment with a twenty-million-dollar apartment on Central Park West, calling it a gift when it was really just a heavier lock on my golden cage.
"I don't want to save the world," I whispered to the empty, marble penthouse after he fell asleep. "I just want to save my son."
With a predator from my past watching my every move and a master who treated me like a pet, I realized I couldn't wait for my contract to end. I had to run tonight, or Leo and I would both die in this cage.
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Chapter 3
Ever practically threw money at the cab driver. "Midtown. As fast as you can. Run the red lights if you have to."
The drive was a blur of honking horns and near-misses. She spent the entire ride fixing her hair in the rearview mirror, pinching her cheeks to hide the pallor of fear. She smelled like hospital soap and sweat.
The cab screeched to a halt a block away from the office building. Ever jumped out, sprinting the last hundred yards. She ducked into a Starbucks, bought a cold brew she didn't want just to have a prop, and walked out, trying to look casual.
Garrick's Rolls Royce was idling at the curb. The back door opened before she even reached it.
Ever slid onto the leather seat. The interior was cool and smelled of cedar and leather.
Garrick wasn't there.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. But then she saw the iPad mounted on the seat back in front of her. The screen was active.
Garrick's face filled the frame. He was in his office, looking down at some papers, but the moment the door closed, his eyes snapped up to the camera.
"Did the little bird find her way back to the cage?" Miles's voice drifted from the speaker. He was in the office with Garrick.
Ever stiffened. "Hello, Garrick."
Garrick ignored the greeting. "The pipe," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "Is it fixed?"
Her stomach twisted. "Yes. The super handled it quickly. It was... messy. I'm sorry I worried you."
There was silence. Three seconds. Five. It felt like an eternity. He was studying her face on the screen, looking for the lie. He was good at finding lies. It was how he made his billions.
"Next time," Garrick said slowly, "call Niles. Don't handle things yourself. That's why I pay people."
"I will," Ever said, gripping the cold coffee cup until the plastic buckled.
"Be at the apartment in ten minutes. We're late."
The screen went black.
Ever slumped back against the seat, closing her eyes. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
He knew. He had to know. Garrick didn't accept simple explanations.
When Ever arrived at the penthouse, Garrick was sitting on the velvet sofa in the living room, flipping a silver lighter open and closed. Clink. Snap. Clink. Snap.
She walked in, trying to keep her head high. "I'm going to get changed."
He stood up. He moved with a predatory grace, closing the distance between them in two strides. He stopped inches from her. He didn't touch her, but she could feel the heat radiating off him.
He leaned in, inhaling deeply near her neck.
"You smell different," he murmured.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "I... it was the cab. It smelled awful."
"It smells like antiseptic," Garrick said. His hand came up, his fingers trailing down the side of her neck, resting over her pulse point. He could feel it hammering.
"I stopped at a pharmacy," Ever lied quickly. "For... headache medicine. The stress of the leak."
Garrick stared at her. His eyes were dark, unreadable pools. Then, his hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back, exposing her throat.
"I don't like it when you smell like anything but me," he whispered. "Or when you smell like the poverty of a public taxi."
Then he kissed her. It wasn't a kiss of affection. It was a claiming. His lips were hard, bruising. He tasted of scotch and control. Ever stood rigid, letting him take what he wanted, while her mind drifted back to the hospital room, to the wires on Leo's chest.
He pulled back, his breathing slightly heavier. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a diamond choker.
"Turn around."
Ever obeyed. The metal was cold against her skin. She heard the clasp click shut. A collar. A very expensive collar.
"Don't lose this one," he warned, his voice vibrating against her spine.
They took the private elevator down in silence. The mirrored walls reflected them-a tall, powerful man in a tuxedo, and a woman in a blue silk gown who looked like she was about to shatter.
In the car, Garrick took her hand. His grip was firm, bordering on painful.
"Ever," he said suddenly.
"Yes?"
"If you ever had children..." He paused, watching her profile. "What kind of mother would you be?"
The air left the car. Ever couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Did he know? Was this a trap?
She forced a laugh. It sounded brittle. "I haven't thought about it. You don't like children, Mr. Head. Remember?"
He snorted, turning his gaze back to the window. "True. They are liabilities. Weaknesses that enemies exploit. Parasites, really."
Ever looked out the window at the passing city lights. My son is not a parasite, she screamed internally. He is the sun and the moon.
"We're going to Cipriani," Garrick said, changing the subject as if he hadn't just stopped her heart. "Clarence Frazier will be there."
Ever froze.
"Stay away from him," Garrick commanded, his grip tightening until her knuckles turned white. "He's dangerous."
"I don't even know him," Ever whispered.
"Good. Keep it that way."
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