A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 198

Marcia grabbed her by the arm, her grip iron-tight. "You're not going anywhere! Call Frank right now. Tell him you cheated on him. Tell him you want a divorce!"

…

Elissa was speechless, on the verge of retorting, when she spotted Bernard leading a small battalion of bodyguards charging toward them.

Frank moved at the center of the group, his stride purposeful and commanding.

Elissa glanced at Marcia, tilting her chin toward the approaching men. "No need for me to call. He's here."

Marcia spun around to see Frank and his entourage. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes, and she instinctively tried to bolt.

But Bernard was faster. He and his men blocked her escape without missing a beat.

Frank strode over, focusing on Elissa. Some of the coldness in his expression faded, replaced by a gentler tone. "She didn't hurt you, did she?"

"No." Elissa shook her head. "You're here for her, aren't you?"

It made sense now—the call Frank had taken in the car must've been about Marcia.

Marcia was the one who'd run.

Frank looked momentarily distracted but didn't deny it. "Yeah."

Elissa nodded. "Well, I'll leave you to it. I'm heading home."

Panic flashed across Marcia's face. She shoved past Bernard, desperate to reach Elissa. "Elissa, please! Help me! If he takes me back, I'm as good as dead!"

Elissa didn't even pause, walking straight into her building without a backward glance.

She had no interest in getting involved in whatever mess they'd made for themselves.

She'd never claimed to be a saint.

Marcia had teamed up with Slate to nearly ruin her reputation and had Tanya Foster thrown in jail.

Not to mention all the other things Marcia had done—Elissa didn't have it in her to play savior.

Bernard understood and gestured for his men to restrain Marcia. They forced her into the car and headed straight for the house on the edge of town.

The night was pitch black.

Most of the houses out here were just investment properties, empty and eerily quiet at this hour. The silence was unsettling.

A fleet of black sedans pulled up in perfect formation, each driver as disciplined as a soldier.

Marcia was yanked from the car. The sight of the house—the same place where she'd suffered so much—made her panic. She struggled desperately, running to Frank's side, pleading for mercy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I never should've pretended to be her—just let me go, please, I'm begging you!"

Frank's voice was ice-cold, devoid of any warmth. "If I let you go, who will give her justice?"

If Marcia hadn't stolen her identity all these years, maybe he would've found little Nine long ago.

Thinking of Elissa, Marcia's face twisted with bitterness. She spat out, "But she's doing just fine now!"