Contract Marriage: I Will Never Love You-Chapter 93: I Was Desperate

Matthew

The minute Sarah falls asleep, I leave.

I don’t care that it’s almost midnight. I don’t care that I haven’t eaten since breakfast. All I can think about is that terrified look on her face when she saw his name.

Rodrigo.

I drive like a man possessed. I barely remember the roads, just the rising fury boiling in my chest.

By the time I pull into Charles and Evelyn’s driveway, my knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel. The house is dark except for the porch light, but I know they are home.

I knock on the door.

The door swings open after a moment, and Charles stands there in a robe, blinking blearily behind his glasses. "Matthew? What the hell are you—?"

"What happened between Sarah and Rodrigo?" I cut him off, my voice low, shaking with fury.

He straightens, suddenly alert. "Keep your voice down. It’s late."

"I don’t care," I snap. "She nearly had another panic attack because that sick bastard sent her flowers. Do you hear me? Flowers. She was trembling. Hyperventilating. Crying."

Charles sighs heavily, rubbing his forehead. "Matthew, calm down—"

"Don’t tell me to calm down!" I hiss. "She’s in the hospital, pregnant and terrified. And you’re going to stand there and pretend you don’t know why?"

A tense silence falls between us. Finally, Charles steps back and opens the door wider.

"Come inside."

I hesitate. My fists are still clenched, and I don’t trust myself not to put one through a wall. But I go in.

The living room looks the same as always—polished wood, stiff furniture, everything cold and perfect. Just like Evelyn.

Charles gestures toward the couch, so I sit.

He exhales again, walks to the liquor cabinet, and pours himself a drink with a shaking hand. He doesn’t offer me one.

"I hoped she forgot," he murmurs. "

"Rodrigo," I ask. "What did he do to her?"

Charles stares at his glass, then finally meets my eyes. "He didn’t do anything to her."

"Are you serious right now? You expect me to believe that she is scared of him for nothing?" I growl.

"Not for nothing. But it’s not what you think," Charles says.

I clench my jaw. "Then tell me what the hell it is."

Charles takes a long drink and then sets his glass down hard on the table. "When Sarah was six, I almost faced bankruptcy, Matthew. About ten years ago. My company was on the verge of collapse, bad investments, market crash, you name it." He runs a hand through his thinning hair. "We were weeks away from losing everything. The house, the cars, the company..."

I stare at him. "What does this have to do with Rodrigo?"

Charles continues as if he hadn’t heard me. "I asked Evelyn to convince her father to lend me the money. Just enough to save the company. But her father refused. He told me I was never good enough for Evelyn in the begin with. Said once I lose anything, she should just find someone else to marry," Charles says bitterly.

I narrow my eyes but don’t say anything. I need him to keep talking.

"Rodrigo was my business partner, and he had this idea for me to convince Sarah’s father to pay up. He came up with a plan. Said if I needed fast money, there was a way to get it. Quick and clean. All I had to do was stage a kidnapping."

I stare at him, stunned. "What?"

He nods slowly, eyes full of guilt. "He told me to fake Sarah’s kidnapping. The idea was to make it look real—anonymous threats, a dramatic ransom drop. Surely Evelyn’s father would want to save his own granddaughter."

I feel the blood drain from my face. "You were going to use her?"

Charles doesn’t flinch, but the guilt on his face deepens. "It was never supposed to be real. Rodrigo said he’d handle everything. Hire someone trustworthy, keep her safe, make it quick. A few hours, tops. No harm. Just a scare. Then we’d ’find’ her, collect the money, and return to normal."

"You let Rodrigo take your daughter?" My voice is barely audible now, but every word is sharp.

"I had no choice," Charles mutters.

"You had a choice not to put your daughter in danger," I say coldly.

Charles closes his eyes like the words physically strike him. "She was not going to be in danger. This was a fake kidnapping."

"What happened?" I demanded.

Charles swallows hard. "I don’t know."

I lean forward, my nails digging into my palms. "Bullshit."

He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. "The men Rodrigo took her as planned. They took her when Marishka was visiting the park with her to make it look like a real kidnapping."

Charles’s voice falters. "They grabbed her. Just like that. Broad daylight. Marishka screamed for help, but they were gone in seconds. Black van. No plates. No way to track them. It was supposed to be staged. A few hours, he said. But then..."

He rubs his forehead again, his hand trembling. "Evelyn’s father didn’t agree to pay the ransom right away so hours turned into a day."

"A day," I repeat, my voice low, deadly. "You let your daughter stay in the hands of strangers for a day?"

Charles looks like he’s aged ten years in front of me. His eyes are red-rimmed, voice hoarse. "I didn’t know what to do. Rodrigo kept insisting it was under control. That the delay wouldn’t change anything."

My jaw tightens so hard it aches. "And when did you realize something was wrong?"

"When it became two days," he whispers. "When Rodrigo stopped answering my calls. When the updates stopped coming."

I stand, pacing now, because if I don’t, I’ll snap. "You let her stay with those animals for two days before it occurred to you something might be off?"

"It was supposed to be fake!" he says again, as if that makes any of this less horrific.

"And it wasn’t," I snap. "So where the hell was she?"

Charles drops into the armchair like his legs won’t hold him up anymore. "They found her on the third day. In a roadside motel two towns over. Alone. Shivering in the bathroom with the lights off. She wouldn’t speak for almost a week. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t even look at Evelyn or me."

I stare at him in silence. The image of six-year-old Sarah, my Sarah, curled up in a filthy bathroom, terrified, is enough to make me want to drive straight to Rodrigo and rip him apart with my bare hands.

"What did they do to her?" I ask quietly, and I almost don’t want to know the answer.

Charles shakes his head. "We don’t know. She never told us. The doctors said there was no evidence of—" he stops himself, his throat working. "But there were bruises and the fear in her eyes were real. After that, she screamed every time the lights went out. Couldn’t sleep alone. Started wetting the bed."

I press a hand to my face, trying to stay calm. Trying not to let the rage consume me. "And did she remember Rodrigo. Did she say anything about him?"

He shakes his head. "She just remembers being taken. The van."

"She remembers him," I say. "She doesn’t know how, but she remembers Rodrigo. He did something to her."

Charles shakes his head. "He denies it. Says he wasn’t there with those men."

"And you believe him?" I roar.

Charles flinches like I struck him. "No," he says hoarsely. "I don’t. But he had an alibi and he convinced me back then."

I stare at him, breathing hard, every muscle in my body wound so tight I feel like I might explode. "You gave your daughter to a monster," I growl. "And now you sit there acting like a victim."

His face twists with something between shame and pain. "I thought I was doing what I had to do—for my family. For Sarah’s future."

"For her future?" I laugh bitterly. "You risked her life. Her safety. Her mind."

"I know," Charles whispers. "I know I’ll never forgive myself. I made sure I give her everything she ever wanted in life because of this."

I don’t say anything. I can’t. Because every word out of his mouth is a reminder of what she went through. Alone. Because of him.

"She never told me she remembered Rodrigo," Charles says. "I thought maybe... maybe he didn’t do anything. But if she’s reacting now..."

"He did something," I say coldly. "She may not have the words for it. But her body remembers."

Charles looks down, shoulders slumped. "I wanted to protect her. I swear I did."

"You failed," I say. "And now she’s carrying my child. And I won’t let him anywhere near her. Or that baby."

He nods slowly, tears welling in his eyes. "I understand."

I stand, ready to leave, my fists still clenched. But then I pause.

"Rodrigo sent her flowers today," I say. "If he is planning something, I need to know everything you’ve ever done with that man. Every deal. Every favor. Every lie." frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Charles nods numbly. "I’ll tell you everything. I promise."

"You better," I say. "Because if you don’t, and he gets near her again—"

I lean in close, my voice low and venomous.

"—I won’t hesitate to do what you should have done ten years ago."

And with that, I turn and walk out, the door slamming behind me.

The cold night air hits my face like a slap, but it does nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.

I will protect Sarah. I don’t care what it takes.