My foot taps on the floor once the steel doors shut, and I head up.
What would I say to Mr. Harrison? Should I blackmail him? I need to get away from Irvin so I can plot my escape from this hellhole of a marriage.
The elevator dings open, and I step out, strolling past the receptionist, who greets me with a warm smile.
I burst into his office, which overlooks North Haven. The view is pretty; from here, I can see the university, the town’s clock towers, the decayed buildings, and the newer buildings made of fiber.
Harrison clears his throat, and I turn to look at him. He’s handsome, with piercing blue eyes and dark hair streaked with white. His expensive beige suit hugs his muscular body. I try not to stare, but he’s beautiful for an older man. He has to be at least fifteen years older than me—around mid-thirties. He leans against his industrial desk, crossing one Tom Ford loafer over the other. This man reeks of power.
His eyes narrow, and his shoulders stiffen.
“Can I help you?” His tone is smooth.
My pulse thrums light and fast. I hold out my hand.
“I’m Irvin Ashford’s wife.”
He stares at my hand, so I withdraw. Jerk. His pretty eyes study me from head to toe, then he frowns.
“Let me guess—you’re here for me to unfreeze your account?”
“You’re smart,” I snap. “Unfreeze my funds, or I’m calling the cops.”
Mr. Harrison laughs, and it pisses me off.
“I can’t do that. Irvin gave me strict orders not to unfreeze it.”
“How much is he paying you?” I question.
He exhales sharply, his fingers tapping on the desk. His eyes venture to the floor-to-ceiling windows, then back at me.
“Enough. I’m part of the American Billionaire Club, and technically, I need him if I want to stay in the club.”
I roll my eyes. “He won’t let me go. I need to get out of here.”
He shakes his head. “There isn’t anything I can do about it.”
My eyes gloss over. I swallow thickly. This is the only way I can get some sort of freedom back. If I don’t, then he’ll continue to have complete control over my life.
“Please. I need to get away from him. He tricked me into this marriage.”
Mr. Harrison stands taller, pushing his shoulders back.
“No. I know what he did. This is what the men do in the club—we take what we want.”
I ball my fists.
“This is bullshit. You can’t do this, it is against the law,” I say softly.
“I can, and I will.” Mr. Harrison strides to the glass door and opens it. “I have a meeting in ten minutes, and you have to leave.”
Once I’m in my car, I rest my head against the steering wheel. Tears fall freely down my face. I feel defeated, hopeless, and no one can help me. I tap the push-start button, and the car hums to life.
Sheets of rain beat on the roof as I ride in silence, drowning in my thoughts. The plan was to get my account unfrozen so when I manipulate Irvin into letting me leave, I’d have money. Also, I need to ask Lyrical—can married people in the club live apart? I haven’t even thought about that. Not only am I up against Irvin, but the board members of the American Billionaire Club. I’m truly alone in this mess I helped create.
Once I’m at my condo, I find Irvin leaning against the arched doorway, speaking to a man dressed in a jumpsuit with a clipboard tucked under his arm. Men carrying large boxes walk out of the condo.
What the fuck is going on now?
