Chapter 4 - The Escape
Alexander reached down, unbuttoned the ties of my apron, and pulled it over my head. He tossed the stained cloth onto the floor right at my mother’s feet.
"Take your coat, Emma," he whispered softly in my ear. "We're leaving."
I didn't grab a purse. I didn't grab my winter boots. I walked past my mother, who was sitting in a chair crying hysterically, past my brother, who was staring at the floor in absolute defeat, and past my sister, who couldn't even look me in the eye.
As we stepped out onto the grand porch of the estate, the cool rain hit my face. A matte-black Maybach was idling at the bottom of the steps, the driver standing holding an open umbrella.
Alexander opened the door for me, guiding me into the plush leather interior before sliding in beside me. The door closed, shutting out the desperate calls of my father running down the driveway behind us.
The car moved smoothly down the long driveway, passing through the wrought-iron gates of the Whitmore estate.
I sat in silence for a long moment, staring at my hands. They were still red from dish soap and hot water.
"Are you alright?" Alexander asked softly, turning to look at me.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "How did you even know where I was?"
Alexander reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn leather notebook. I recognized it immediately—it was my late grandmother's recipe book, the one thing my mother hadn't managed to throw away.
"You dropped this at the bakery six months ago," Alexander said quietly. "You left it on the counter when you delivered the morning pastries to my office building. I tried to return it to you, but you had already left for your second job."
I stared at him in disbelief. "Six months ago?"
"I hired a private investigator to find out who owned the notebook," Alexander admitted, a rare, soft smile touching his lips. "When I read your notes, your dreams of opening your own catering business, and then looked into your background... I realized what your family was doing to you."
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"So... the engagement?" I asked, my heart fluttering nervously against my ribs. "It was just a stunt to ruin my father?"
Alexander looked straight into my eyes, his calm blue gaze completely serious. "It was a way to pull you out of the fire, Emma. But as for the engagement... I don't intend for it to be a lie."
