The cold air slapped Poppy across the face the moment she stepped out of the mansion. Her breathing was uneven, but she clutched her coat tighter around her trembling frame.
Inhale. Exhale. Again and again.
She tried to steady herself, but her body wouldn't stop shaking.
She was angry. She could even feel her blood boiling, but why were her eyes stinging?
Was it because Dale had once been her whole world? The only person who'd stood by her side when everyone else turned their backs. The only light she had after her mother died in that brutal car crash when she was just ten.
Her family never forgave her for surviving. They blamed her for her mother's death, disregarding that she was part of the accident and barely survived by a miracle.
And it only got worse after her father discovered that her mother had transferred every asset, share, and cent out of the Sinclair's name and into private trusts under Poppy's name when she found out he was sleeping with his secretary—Lauren.
Since then, Poppy had been blackmailed and treated nothing less than the maids by every member of her family.
Except for Dale.
He'd been the one person who held her hand through every storm and every tear.
So when they told her Dale was her betrothed, Poppy had felt like the luckiest girl alive. She didn't even hesitate when they said she'd have to transfer everything her mother left her into his name after marriage. It felt right. Safe.
Her fists clenched at her sides.
She had been a fool. A pathetic, trusting fool, who was easily swayed by a few kind words and fake loyalty.
She had also taken her family's insults and swallowed years of pain and humiliation, all because Dale had whispered, "Don't cause trouble, Poppy. Just endure a little longer."
But not anymore.
Now, she would fight. With everything she owned. She would protect what her mother died trying to leave her. And as for whoever they tricked her into marrying… she'd find him, get a divorce, and live for herself, just like her mother would've wanted.
A sudden buzz in her pocket snapped her back to reality.
Poppy blinked, pulled out her phone, and for the first time that day, a small, tired smile appeared on her face when she saw the caller ID.
She answered. "How did you know I was outside?"
"Just… instincts," Chloe, Poppy's best friend's voice came through the line. "And from the sound of your voice, I take it the snake pit didn't go well?"
Poppy exhaled sharply. "They asked me to marry Dale. As his second wife."
"WHAT?!" Chloe exploded. "After everything that bastard did with that whore of a sister you have?! Did you tell them? Did you show them the recording you sent me?"
"I did." Poppy's voice was almost a whisper now. "They knew, Chloe. All of them. Every single one of them. I was the only fool left in the dark."
The tears that gathered in her eyes threatened to spill, but she held them back.
There was a pause on the other end. Then, "I am so sorry, Poppy," Chloe said softly. "I swear to God… I'm not going to let them get away with this!"
Poppy's lips tugged into a small smile. "I know. And that's why I love you."
A hesitant beat followed, before Chloe spoke again. "I don't know if it's the right time to say this..."
Her brows drew together. "What is it?"
"The recording you sent… it helped. I finally managed to trace the man they registered you as married to. It wasn't easy, but… I got his address."
Poppy's breath caught in her chest. For the first time that day, she felt a spark of hope.
"You're a freaking angel, Chloe. Send it to me. Right now."
But Chloe didn't sound nearly as excited. "Wait, you're not thinking of going there alone, are you?" Her tone turned serious. "What if he's dangerous? What if he's a serial killer? Or a mafia boss? Or worse—both?"
She rolled her eyes. "I've told you to stop reading too much novels, Chloe."
"I'm not being dramatic, Poppy, and you know it! This man had 'deceased' listed on official records. Who does that? Who fakes their death on paper when they are still very much alive? That's not normal!"
Poppy was quiet for a moment. "That's creepy," she admitted. "But still—"
"No 'but still!'" Chloe snapped. "Come over. Let's come up with a plan. We'll hire backup if we need to. Please don't do this alone."
She took a moment to think. "I just need his signature on the divorce papers, Chloe. That's all. Once he signs them, we're both free. I'm not trying to get close or dig deep—I just want out."
"Poppy—"
"I have to do this today," her voice was soft, yet firm. "And I'll be fine, I promise."
Chloe sighed, defeated. "Text me the moment you get there. I mean it."
"I will," Poppy said, ending the call.
She stared down at the address Chloe texted her, before entering her car.
...
It took Poppy over an hour of driving before she reached the location Chloe had sent her. At first, it didn't seem like much. It was just an endless road surrounded by tall forest trees, perfectly aligned on both sides.
She had to drive for ten more minutes down that eerie, private road, until the trees suddenly cleared, and a grand, iron gate appeared before her.
It was beautiful. But it wasn't the kind of beauty that felt warm. It was the kind that screamed expensive. And it was heavily guarded.
Her car screeched to a halt just a few meters from the entrance, and Poppy's heart hammered as two armed men in black tactical gear walked towards her the moment they noticed her.
Poppy's hands tightened on the wheel, and she quickly glanced at the address Chloe sent her with trembling hands. "Please let this be wrong..."
Her face paled when she saw it was the exact location.
She had barely rolled down the window when one of the guards raised his weapon.
"Hands where I can see them!"
Poppy gasped. Her body froze before instinct took over. She raised both hands slowly, her breaths coming in short, panicked bursts.
"I—I'm not here to cause trouble," her voice trembled vehemently. "I just want to speak to Mr. Alaric Langford—"
That seemed to startle them.
One guard narrowed his eyes. The other's grip on the weapon faltered for a split second before he barked, "Step out of the vehicle. Now. Slowly."
Poppy nodded quickly and reached for the door handle. Her legs were trembling as she stepped out into the cold air. Tears were even beginning to gather in her eyes as she thought of what would happen if these men decided to pull the trigger.
But before anything could happen, a panicked voice crackled from the small comms device attached to one of the guards' collars.
"It has happened again! The young master has escaped! Does anyone copy?!"
Poppy blinked.
Escaped?
The two guards stiffened, and their eyes widened as if they'd just heard something from a horror movie.
Without a word, they turned away and ran inside the gate.
Poppy stood there confused. Every instincts in her body screamed at her to seize this opportunity and run away, but she found herself walking toward the opened gates, out of curiosity instead.
She followed the direction the guards had run, only to find a massive building. She stopped just at the entrance... and froze.
"What in the name of sanity...?"
The front yard—no, the entire courtyard—was in chaos.
They were guards everywhere, chasing after one man.
And not just any man.
A tall, dangerously handsome, half-naked man with wild black hair and the grin of a lunatic. He ran barefoot through the courtyard, laughing like a child who'd stolen candy, while the guards struggled to catch up.
"GET HIM!" one shouted.
"HE'S HEADING FOR THE FOUNTAIN!" another yelled.
Poppy's mouth fell open. Her brain couldn't process what she was seeing. Why were they chasing him?
The man suddenly paused, as if sensing someone. And then he turned.
Their eyes met.
Poppy drew in a sharp breath at the eye contact. There was something disturbingly beautiful about him. His chest rose and fell as sweat glistened across his skin, and his eyes locked on hers with curiosity… and a touch of madness.
Then he smiled.
Poppy felt her heart thunder wildly in her chest, but her face paled when she realized what he was about to do.
Without warning, he yanked off the last piece of clothing he had on, revealing his entire nakedness.