She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 185

(Natasha)

My week is going exceptionally well, which should have been my first warning.

The panel went smoothly on Monday.

Bauer's lawyers fold by Tuesday.

Lily slept eight hours straight last night for the first time since the transfusion.

I leave the office at six thirty with half a chocolate eclair in my hand because Priya keeps a bag of them in the small fridge under her desk and has decided I’m too thin.

The garage on level B2 is the usual at this hour.

Very little foot traffic.

Most employees are on their way home already.

The fluorescent strip above the lift bay is flickering. I’ll have to get maintenance to take care of that tomorrow.

My white Volvo is in my personal parking space.

I press the unlock on the fob, licking cream from the corner of my mouth, and the lights blink twice at me from the far end of the row.

A white laundry van is parked two slots over from mine. Engine running quietly.

I guess they’re running late today. They usually drop the tablecloths and things by four on a Thursday.

I’m six feet from my car door when the side panel of the van slides open.

A man comes out fast.

Not running.

Walking, like a person doing a job he’s done before.

He looks calm and collected.

He’s wearing gloves but nothing over his face, which is the part that registers wrong first.

Because it means he isn't worried about being identified, which means-

"Mrs Warren."

I drop the eclair. My laptop bag slides off my shoulder onto my forearm.

"Get away from me."

"Mrs Warren, I need you to come with me."

"I said get away from me."

He keeps coming.

I shout once, as loudly as my lungs allow. Help.

The garage swallows it.

He grabs me by the upper arms, but he’s careful not to squeeze too hard.

Almost as if he’s been told not to bruise me.

Fuck that.

He’s not taking me without a fight.

I twist hard. My laptop bag swings and hits him in the kidney.

He grunts but doesn’t let go.

I bring my heel down on the top of his foot.

My heels are sharp, but he’s wearing safety boots and my effort doesn’t even elicit a flinch.

I’m five foot four. He’s six foot two and a wall of solid muscle.

He pins me, calmly, against the side of the van with his forearm across my collarbones.

That’s when I see a second man coming around the side of the vehicle with a folded cloth.

I see it for half a second before it goes over my nose.

It smells kind of sweet. Not the overpowering chemical stench I was expecting.

I twist my face.

I get half a breath out the side of the cloth.

Help.

Smaller this time. Just my body refusing to give up.

Then the world disappears.

I come to in a vehicle.

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