When I learnt of my mother’s death, I had no time to mourn, I had to go into damage control. Suddenly, someone else had a legal claim to the family fortune. I never mix business with emotion but, to save the company, I did something impulsive. I snatched her away. It’s all about the business, though, not from any desire to have her in my home and under my control.
Obviously, being kidnapped is not a good thing. It’s up there with the worst things that can happen but, considering the alternative in my case, it wasn’t that awful. That rich jerk couldn’t be any worse than those loan sharks after me for the cash I owe them, and he had put me in the lap of luxury. He hadn’t even been near me since he dumped me here. Good. I hate that jerk. So, why can’t I stop thinking about him?