Caught by the Billionaire

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SEASON 1

~Elysia~

It was time to face the judge, and the sound of the latch being turned on my cell door was like a death knell in my ears.

"Crinshaw, it’s time," the guard murmured, unlocking the door of my cell. As soon as he entered the cramped space, he placed a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. At the feel of the cold metal against my skin, a sense of dread skated down my spine; a harsh reminder of what I was facing.

Minutes later, he was leading me through the prison’s hallways. Though I could feel his contempt as we moved forward, I refused to let his opinion take away my sense of worth. Yeah, I'd been caught doing a B & E, but I refused to look at myself as I knew he and others were.

It didn’t take nearly as long as I had hoped it would before we approached what I assumed was the courtroom. I could hear voices, the rustling of papers, the creaking of a chair. However, instead of entering the courtroom, we continued past it.

Finally, the guard stopped before a door, and raising a hand, he lightly knocked on it with his knuckles, then pushing it open, he ushered me inside. The cold light of the fluorescent lamps illuminated the room like a beacon of judgment, and in the middle of the room was a giant of a man sitting behind a wooden desk, his eyes fixed on me.

I couldn’t help but squirm a little under his unsympathetic gaze, before he finally asked, "So, you broke into the Landry estate? Do you have anything to say for yourself?" His voice carried a thick Cajun accent.

I tipped my head and narrowed my eyes as I took in his appearance, the well-groomed hair, the expensive suit. "If you’re a judge, then I’m the Queen of Sheba," I declared.

Amusement slid across his features. "You’re correct, I’m not a judge. But you might say I have an invested interest in your case. Now, are you guilty or not?"

I took a deep breath, my heart fluttering in my chest like a caged bird. In the back of my mind, I could hear Papa urging me to be the person he knew I was; not who I’d been forced to become.

As I looked into the man’s eyes, I knew what I had to do.

"Guilty, sir," I stated. "Guilty of all I have been accused of."

~~

I continued gazing at the man behind the desk as he raised an eyebrow. "You do realize you’ll get five to seven with your admission, right?" he questioned.

"Five to seven?" I gasped. My voice as I spoke was barely above a whisper.

The man’s expression remained unyielding, his eyes narrowed as he studied me with a critical gaze, and an icy dread crept up my spine. I'd made a terrible choice in my decision. I should never have admitted my guilt. However, I couldn’t take it back now; it was too late.

“I had no idea,” I admitted, my voice stronger, but still weak.

Shifting in the too small chair, the man leaned forward, propping his elbows onto the top of the desk, as steepling his fingers, he murmured suggestively, "There is a way to keep you from doing any time at all."

I rolled my eyes. Seriously? Yeah, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. But…damn! Was he really going there?

The man must have read my mind, because he smirked with amusement, stating, "Still your thoughts, Miss Crinshaw. That’s not what I’m suggesting. But I am willing to get your charges dropped if you come work for me."

"Excuse me?" I gasped. "Work? What kind of work?"

Cocking his head, the man smiled again, but this time, he remained silent. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow, waiting.

"Okay, suppose I do come work for you. What exactly would I be doing?" I asked. Despite his assurance of seconds earlier, I was still suspicious.

The man's smile widened, revealing a set of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth, before stating, "I can’t reveal that to you right now. Not until you agree you’ll work for me."