ROXIE 2: Wrong Turn
ROXIE 2: Wrong Turn
The sorrow lodged deep in my chest was so heavy, the anger so consuming, and the emotions so tangled and raw, that I found myself no longer caring if the ship sank into the sea this very moment.
As it rocked with the waves, a memory from three years ago suddenly came rushing back, like a scene I thought I’d forgotten…
***
It was snowing in Westridge, just a few miles from Century City. I had to return to my hometown because my brother, Thomas, was in the hospital. I was told he had gotten into an argument with his girlfriend, Isolde, at a gathering they both attended.
The snow was coming down hard, making it challenging to see, and the road was slick with a mix of oil and water. Then, out of nowhere, a truck up ahead swerved. Thomas’s car lost control, slammed into the concrete median, and was struck by a delivery van.
The crash killed Isolde on the spot. Thomas survived–but just barely. He’s been in a coma for months now, his unconscious body a silent reminder of that fateful night.
With Thomas unable to run things, our family’s real estate business started falling apart. My uncle, who stepped in temporarily, told me we needed someone who could help stabilize the business while Thomas remained unconscious. He went through a list of candidates with solid architectural backgrounds and strong industry connections. One name stood out among the rest: Gideon Blake.
Gideon wasn’t just a man who could save our business–he was the man who once stepped in for me during one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I remembered how he had intervened when a predatory individual attempted to take advantage of me, spiking my drink at an industry event.
Two years later, I found myself sitting across from him in his office. He looked the same–calm, powerful, composed–ten years older than me, with a massive desk between us.
“I need your help, Mr. Blake,” I said, launching into the problems the company’s been facing.
His intense gaze lingered on me, and though he said nothing, it was as if he was listening with every part of him. Heat pulsed from my skin, escaping me instinctively, like he wanted to consume me whole.
“Leave the room,” he instructed my brother’s secretary. “Everyone out, except Miss Sanders.”
His voice was firm, his eyes unreadable. My heart raced, betraying the calm front I tried to maintain. I’d admired this man from afar and followed him on social media, along with other business personalities, just to avoid looking like an obsessed
fan.
Once we were alone, he broke the silence.
His piercing gaze studied me as he asked. “How old are you now?”
“T–twenty–one,” I stammered.
“So, you were nineteen when we first met…”
“Do you remember that night?” The surprise must have been evident in my eyes.
“Yes,” he said, smirking, “That night’s hard to forget, Miss Sanders. Especially your face.”
My cheeks flushed at his words. What I didn’t realize at the time was that his assistant had deliberately refreshed his memory before our meeting, setting up this whole fake intimate moment.
His charm was calculated, designed to remind me of our previous encounter.
“Thirty percent of your shareholders have already withdrawn their funds,” he stated coldly. “Why would I invest in a sinking company, Miss Sanders?”
I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t trained for this–I’m a medical student, not a businesswoman. My only hope was that he might help.
All I could do was bite my lip.
“I will help, but with one condition,” he muttered.
His words lit a spark of hope inside me.
“I’ll fund the company, but I must personally oversee its operations. I’ll appoint my own team, allowing you to continue your personal pursuits.”
It felt impossible. But I had no choice. I had to hand over the reins of Sanders Company to Gideon to ensure its survival.
way, the company would still be there if Thomas ever regained consciousness.
That
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ROXIE 2: Wrong Turn
He wasn’t finished.
“That’s not all, Miss Sanders,” he added, his gray eyes locking with mine.
A strange heat crawled over my skin, making it hard to breathe. He stood and walked toward me, stopping just inches away from my seat.
“You must become my woman.”
His words lingered in the air, heavy with a dangerous energy.
“I like you, Miss Sanders. You’ve been haunting my dreams for two years now…,” he said, then leaned down to kiss me. The kiss was consuming, leaving me dizzy and disoriented.
I said yes to everything.
To the deal.
To Gideon.
What I didn’t get back then was that I was just a pawn in some bigger, messed–up game.
Months went by, and I kept doing my modeling and working on my medical studies, thinking I was really with Gideon Blake.
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