Chapter 249

Chapter 249

Laura froze mid-step, her spine rigid, fingers clenched so tightly her nails dug crescents into her palms. Hatred and panic wrestled in her chest.

She knew Emily was sharp. Her sister wouldn't come here without a reason—and that reason couldn't be good.

But running now would only make her look guilty.

After a few tense seconds, she ground her teeth and forced herself to turn back. She stalked to the chair opposite the glass partition and dropped into it with exaggerated casualness, crossing her arms and leaning back in defiance.

She glared at Emily, her voice dripped with venom, each word laced with malice.

"What do you want? What, did you come here just to gloat? Don't get too cocky, Emily."

Emily sat across from her, posture immaculate, eyes calm but razor-sharp. No pleasantries. No small talk.

"A few days ago, someone hired Roy to ambush me on the street. Was it you?"

"Roy?"

Laura's brows furrowed. The name meant nothing to her. She'd never heard of any Roy, much less ordered a hit.

But her stomach dropped. Could it have been him?

True, she'd spent every day in this hellhole cursing Emily's name, praying for her ruin. But hearing that something had actually happened to her sister made Laura's pulse spike with guilty panic.

She knew Delbert was working against Emily. But he'd never told her the details.

Now Emily was confronting her directly, and even though Laura hadn't done it herself, the malice in her heart made her flinch.

Her eyes darted away before she could stop them.

But she rallied quickly, raising her voice in shrill defiance.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I'm locked up in here. They watch me twenty-four-seven. How could I possibly hire someone? Emily, you pissed off the wrong person out there—don't try to pin it on me!"

From the moment Laura sat down, Emily had been studying her.

Her hair was glossy. Her complexion, rosy. She looked healthier than she had during her glory days.

This wasn't what a prisoner looked like. Someone was taking very good care of her.

And whoever that person was, they were suspicious. Emily seriously doubted Laura had seduced a female guard into doing her favors.

"You're behind bars, yes. But that doesn't mean you can't give someone ideas. And it doesn't mean someone wouldn't act on your wishes."

Emily leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with her sister.

"You've hated me since we were kids. You've competed with me over everything. When we were outside, you hired a hitman to hurt me—you nearly got me killed. Now you're serving time, nursing a grudge. Wanting revenge? That's perfectly in character."

Every word struck a nerve.

Laura's face flushed red, then drained white. She couldn't find a comeback, panic surging beneath her skin. But she forced herself to stay defiant, lifting her chin.

"So what if I hate you? You deserve to be hated. I'd love nothing more than to see you drop dead. But I didn't do it. I didn't. You've got no proof—stop trying to frame me!"

She had thought about making a move. But she hadn't gotten around to it yet. Emily couldn't pin this on her.

The rationalization gave Laura a fragile sense of confidence.

But Emily wasn't buying it. Her gaze was ice-cold as she cataloged every flinch, every tremble of Laura's fingertips.

"Whether or not I'm framing you, your face and your body language tell the whole story. You don't know who Roy is, but your first instinct was to panic and deny—not to ask questions. Laura, you know perfectly well someone's helping you go after me."

The accusation ripped through Laura's facade.

Her pupils contracted. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her face went even paler, a flicker of internal struggle crossing her features before hardening into viciousness.

She didn't know exactly what Delbert was planning. But she made up her mind on the spot: no matter what, she wouldn't give Emily a single thread to pull.

"I don't know what nonsense you're spouting!"

Laura slammed her hand on the table, her voice sharp and grating. A nearby guard glanced over, and she lowered her volume slightly, hissing through clenched teeth.

"I didn't send anyone after you. I don't know who did. Now get out. I don't want to see you!"

"Who's helping you?"

Emily pressed on, relentless.

"Tell me who it is, and I won't hold this against you."

"Hold it against me? What gives you the right?"

Laura let out a bitter, mocking laugh, her eyes full of poison.

"Emily, you won't get a single word out of me. Even if I did know, I'd never tell you. I want you to spend every day looking over your shoulder. The worse off you are, the happier I am!"

She was done pretending. Her entire body radiated hostility. She leaned back in her chair, turned her face away, and spat out her final words.

"I have nothing to say to you. Get out. And don't come back. I never want to see you again."

Without waiting for a response, she shot to her feet and called out to the guard.

"Officer! I'm done here. I don't want to see her anymore!"

The guard stepped forward to signal the end of the visit. Laura didn't spare Emily another glance. She turned on her heel and strode out, her retreating figure radiating defiance—though her clenched fists betrayed the turmoil beneath.

 

Emily remained seated in the visitation room, alone. Her expression was dark, her hand tightening around the phone receiver.

The exchange had confirmed everything.

Laura's panic. Her evasions. Her desperate attempts to cover.

She might not have orchestrated the attack herself, but she was involved. And whoever was pulling the strings was using Laura's hatred as a weapon.

But Laura had refused to crack. This lead had hit a dead end.

For now.

 

Meanwhile, at Howard Group headquarters, the top-floor executive office was shrouded in shadow. Heavy curtains blocked most of the daylight, leaving the room steeped in tension.

Charles sat behind his massive desk, absently tapping a pen against the surface. His brow was furrowed, his mind replaying last night's encounter with Delbert—and Emily's admission that the man had unsettled her.

The unease wouldn't leave him.

A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. His assistant ushered Sean into the room. Sean had traded his uniform for casual clothes, but his expression was anything but relaxed.

"Boss. I had the day off, so I figured I'd update you in person about Roy."

Sean strode directly to the desk, skipping any pleasantries.

"Mike and I interrogated Roy all night. Good cop, bad cop—every trick in the book. He finally cracked."