Taken

chapter four

AURELIA SITS CROUCHED IN THE LADIES' ROOM, her heart echoing loudly in her chest as her mind sifts through the hundreds of possibilities as to where her father could be, along with what could've happened moments before the glass had shattered, spilling across the floor and threatening to rip the skin of anyone who dared to step onto the marble floors.

She swallows as she rocks anxiously back and forth on the toilet, silently praying for the safety of her father, her brother, her sister, and her bodyguard. Her breath hitches at the thought of any of them perishing from an event like this, but her lungs completely pause when she hears the door to the ladies' room open, the sound echoing through the bathroom.

She stills, her chest rigid—and then the breath completely leaves her lungs when she hears what sounds almost like her father's voice, ever so similar save for the single low pitch of the r's. Her eyebrows furrow, and for a minute, she debates opening the door, her fingers hovering over the lock, but fear and the thought of other possibilities keeps her frozen in place.

"Anyone in here?"

Aurelia swallows.

"Specifically, any Beaumonts in here?" The man chuckles. "There's no harming involved today if you give me my money back."

Her throat tightens. They'd never stolen a single penny from anyone or anything, but things like this had always come up because of their wealth. When people ask for riches, what they often don't realize is that it always comes with consequences and risk. Aurelia startles when a door to a stall slams open—the one closest to the door. She'd recalled five stalls on her way in, and she knows opening five doors will take less than two minutes.

She pulls her knees tighter to her chest as the second door flies open, hitting the wall and allowing a loud sound to echo through the bathroom and up her spine, raising the small baby hairs on her skin. For a moment, she debates crawling through the small crack between the stalls, but once again, fear takes its toll on her and all she can do is pray Sawyer returns for her.

The third and the fourth door slam against the wall, and her jaw tightens. She'd once taken self defense classes, but she hadn't practiced in years—although bringing her knee up between a man's legs is a move never forgotten.

As the stranger moves towards the fifth door, she hears him throw his fist against it, then curse loudly when it doesn't open, the lock keeping it secured. He lets out a soft laugh. "All right. Come on out, then," he drawls.

She swallows.

"I could break the lock on this door in less than five minutes, Aurelia."

She stiffens at the sound of her name.

"You know, perhaps your father didn't tell you. I'll give you credit for that," the stranger says with a laugh. "He owes me sixty grand."

Aurelia bites her lip to keep herself from speaking.

"There's no need to pretend, Aurelia. However, I must say I'm running on a tight schedule. You have ten seconds to unlock the stall or I'll do it myself." Her breath hitches as he begins to count. "One. Two. Three."

Her fingers clench the fabric of her dress tightly, droplets of sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, disappearing into the dark waves of her hair.

"Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten." The stranger chuckles. "Your choice," he mutters as he kicks at the door. The thin piece of metal doesn't budge at first, but with the next few kicks, it loosens, and starts to slip out of the small, almost minuscule hook holding it in place. Within minutes, the door flies open, revealing a man who is very much not her father, a man with sleek, dark hair slicked back, and sapphire blue eyes that glint with pleasure. "Ah. Aurelia Beaumont. Pleasure to finally meet you," he drawls.