Chapter 136: For *Her*

Cecilia

"That's my business," I said evenly, thinking of my accounts at Winston Corporation, of the salary I'd been earning, of the inheritance from my father that I'd never touched.

And if that wasn't enough—Arthur had given me access to his accounts weeks ago, had told me in that firm, no-argument voice of his that what was his was mine, that I should use whatever I needed without hesitation.

The boss studied me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing or serious.

Then he held up two fingers. "Alright, sweetheart. Here's the deal. Your friend—the man who came in around the same time as you—yeah, I know about him."

My heart leapt into my throat, hope and dread warring in my chest. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Ah ah ah," the boss said, wagging his finger at me like I was a child who'd broken the rules. "That's another question. Gonna cost you another hundred thousand."

I nodded immediately, not even hesitating. "Fine. Tell me."

The boss's expression turned darker, more serious, the amusement draining from his face and leaving something that might have been genuine regret in its place. "The Grey family took him. Brought him to their estate for some kind of special event they're hosting."

Grey family. The same family my mother had fled from, the same family that made experienced detectives back away from investigations.

"What kind of event?" I asked, even though part of me didn't want to know the answer, could sense from the shift in the boss's expression that whatever he was about to tell me would be bad.

The boss's smile turned cruel, his eyes hardening. "The kind where rich assholes bid on body parts. Where they buy the privilege of cutting off a finger, or an ear, or whatever the fuck they want."

"And then they do it right there, while everyone watches and drinks champagne and pretends it's all just good fun, just entertainment for people with too much money and too much power and not enough humanity left to care about the suffering they're causing."

The room tilted sideways, and I felt bile rise in my throat, my hand coming up to press against my mouth as nausea washed over me.

"But that's the Greys for you. Sick fucks with too much money and too much power. They throw these parties every few months, bring in some poor bastard who pissed them off or who they just grabbed randomly, and turn their torture into entertainment for other rich psychopaths."

For the first time I heard something that might have been genuine emotion in his voice—disgust, maybe, or anger at the kind of people who could do such things.

He looked at me, and I saw something that might have been pity flicker across his face. "My advice? Save your money, sweetheart. Your friend's already gone. Nothing you can do for him now except maybe say a prayer, if you're into that sort of thing. Forget about him and focus on getting yourself out of here while you still can."

I couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the horror of what he'd just described.

Daniel—kind, enthusiastic Daniel who'd just wanted to help me find justice, who'd taken a beating from Rex Reynolds and kept investigating anyway—was in the hands of monsters who were going to torture him for entertainment, who were going to let rich psychopaths bid on the privilege of cutting pieces off him while he screamed.

And I was trapped here, with no way to help him, no way to even warn Arthur about what was happening, no way to do anything except stand here and feel utterly, completely helpless.

"No," I heard myself say, my voice sounding strange and distant like it was coming from someone else. "No, I'm not giving up. Tell me where the Grey estate is. Tell me how to get there."

The boss let out a laugh that held absolutely no humor, just bitter amusement at what he clearly thought was my stupidity. "Sweetheart, even if I told you—which I won't, because I'm not suicidal enough to cross the Greys—you'd never make it past the front gate."

"Besides, putting yourself in danger just for one person is truly not worth it at all."

"I don't care," I said, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. "Daniel is my friend. I'm not leaving him to die like that."

The boss studied me for a long moment, something shifting in his expression that I couldn't quite read—maybe respect, maybe just fascination at meeting someone stupid enough to consider going up against the Grey family.

"You're either the bravest person I've ever met, or the stupidest," he said finally. "Maybe both."

The boss's eyes drifted to Sophia, lingering on her face with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Well," he said slowly, his voice taking on a different quality, less predatory and more... contemplative. "I suppose I could help you out. For her sake."

I felt Sophia go completely rigid beside me, her whole body tensing like she'd been struck. Without thinking, I reached over and grabbed her hand, threading our fingers together in a gesture of solidarity that seemed to surprise both of us.

Her hand was ice cold in mine, trembling slightly, and I squeezed it gently, trying to offer what comfort I could in this fucked-up situation.

The boss leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest with a smile that was equal parts calculating and genuinely amused. "I know a German aristocratic family—the Von Reichenbachs. They've got two daughters, both around your ages, who just left on a private tour of the Mediterranean. Very private, very exclusive, the kind of trip where nobody knows their exact whereabouts."

His smile widened, taking on a quality that suggested he was particularly pleased with himself. "And I happen to know their itinerary. Every detail of it, actually. After all, we're friends."

I felt my heart start to race, understanding dawning even before he finished explaining.