Chapter 185: Drugging

Cecilia looked up at Felix. "She's desperate to get you out of the hospital."

Felix glanced at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I know."

"Drake." Cecilia said only that one name.

Felix nodded, then turned to Roman. "Deploy four teams. Two outside Blue Bay Bistro, two watching every location tied to Scarlett tonight. Restaurant surveillance, kitchen, back exits, parking lot—check everything."

Roman hesitated. "You're really going?"

"Yes." Felix fastened his suit jacket. "He wants to trap me. I might as well see how far they're willing to take this."

Cecilia grabbed his phone and quickly typed an address in the notes app, then deleted it and replaced it with another line.

[If I go dark, check everyone I met tonight.]

Felix read it, his gaze settling on her face.

Cecilia's tone was even. "They want to separate you from me. You might not be their only target."

"Go back to the Laurent Estate tonight. Don't go anywhere alone."

"You worry about your own side." Cecilia shoved the phone back into his hand. "I'm not that easy to take down."

She turned to leave. Felix caught her wrist, his palm hot, his grip firm. "Cecilia."

She looked back. Felix's voice was low. "Don't silence your phone."

"Got it." She pulled her hand free and walked down the hallway, heels clicking against the floor.

Twenty minutes later, Blue Bay Bistro.

When the private room door opened, Scarlett was already seated inside. She'd changed into a black dress, her makeup lighter than it had been at the gala. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression carefully exhausted.

Felix stepped inside without removing his coat. "Talk."

Scarlett looked at him, forcing a weak smile. "You won't even sit down first?"

Felix didn't move. "My patience is limited."

Scarlett's fingers tightened, but she swallowed her emotions.

"Grandfather went to the Knightley estate today—not just to discuss business. He got his hands on something related to that old Florida case. Your grandfather's expression changed the moment he saw it. That's when he had the attack."

Felix studied her. "Where is it?"

"I can give you a lead." Scarlett lifted her head, her eyes glistening. "But first, you have to answer one question."

Felix said nothing.

She looked at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "How important is Cecilia to you? Really?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business." Scarlett laughed—a twisted, bitter sound. "If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have pushed Campbell this far. You wouldn't treat me like this."

Felix finally pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing his long legs. "You called me here to waste my time with this?"

Scarlett bit her lip. "I just want to know—if something happened to her, would you abandon the entire Knightley family to save her?"

Felix's expression turned ice-cold.

Scarlett saw the shift and felt her chest tighten, but a sick satisfaction flickered across her face. "I guess I have my answer."

Felix leaned forward slightly, his voice low and dangerous. "Scarlett, you'd better pray nothing happens to her tonight."

A chill ran down her spine, but she forced herself to speak. "Are you threatening me?"

"Consider it a warning."

Outside the room, Roman's earpiece crackled with two simultaneous reports. "Drake's people spotted on the west side of Blue Bay Bistro."

"Ms. Laurent's trail went cold. Last known location: private club behind the hotel, back alley."

Roman's face went white. He pressed his earpiece. "Boss, we have a problem with Ms. Cecilia."

Inside the room, Felix shot to his feet. Scarlett's expression crumbled. She instinctively reached for him. "You can't leave—you haven't—"

Felix shook her off with enough force to send her stumbling into the table. Glasses shattered across the floor. "What the hell makes you think you can stop me?"

He turned and walked out.

Scarlett sat on the floor, her face ashen, shouting after him. "Felix! You're going to regret this!"

The only answer was the sound of the door slamming shut.

Meanwhile, top floor of the club.

When Cecilia pushed open the door to the private room, the lighting inside was dim. Freshly delivered tea and desserts sat on the table. A server bowed and quickly retreated.

She'd just sat down—her contact hadn't arrived yet—when a message appeared on her phone.

[Drake wants to meet you. To discuss Isla Island.]

The sender was an unknown number, but the message read like they'd known all along she would come.

At that moment, the door opened. Drake walked in.

He wasn't wearing his gala suit anymore. Instead, he had on a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, the fabric straining against his muscles. His smile was predatory. "Ms. Laurent. Finally, a chance to meet you alone."

Cecilia remained seated, her tone flat. "You went through all this just to see me?"

"You're worth it." Drake sat across from her, his gaze sliding over her face, her neck, lower. "Of all the women in New York, you're the most interesting."

Cecilia pushed her cup away. "Cut the bullshit."

Drake laughed. "You're cautious. Unfortunately, it's too late."

Cecilia looked up at him, her expression unchanged.

Drake gestured toward the tea. "Before you walked in, the air diffuser in this room was already running. The cup is just the second layer."

Cecilia's fingertips stilled.

Drake leaned back in his chair, his smile slow. "German formula. Very potent. No specific antidote. The longer you fight it, the worse it gets."

The moment he finished speaking, Cecilia felt heat spreading through her chest. Her breathing grew heavier. The edges of her vision blurred, as if wrapped in humid fog.

She pressed her palm against the table, forcing herself to stay steady.

Drake watched her reaction, his interest deepening. "Relax. I'm not into roughing up women. Cooperate, and tonight won't have to be painful."

Cecilia's lips curved into a cold smile. "You brought your German playbook to New York without asking who runs this city?"

"The person running this city is about to change." Drake rose and circled the table, closing in on her step by step. "Felix is with Scarlett right now. Think he even knows you're here?"

Cecilia's breathing grew labored. Sweat beaded on her back. She grabbed a fruit fork from the table and stabbed it into the edge of her palm without hesitation.

The pain yanked her fractured consciousness back into focus.

Drake stopped short, clearly not expecting that. His gaze darkened. "Interesting."

Cecilia used the moment to reach for her phone and quickly unlock the screen.

But Drake was faster. He grabbed her wrist and pulled the phone away, glancing at the call screen. He laughed quietly. "You really thought you could reach him."

Cecilia's temple was damp with sweat. "You wouldn't dare touch me."

"You can test that theory." Drake leaned in, bracing his palm against the back of her chair. "Felix is probably listening to Scarlett cry about the past right now. Even if he wanted to, he won't make it here in time."

Cecilia stared at him, her eyes still sharp and defiant, but the drug coursed through her bloodstream, intensifying. Old memories began crashing into her mind.

A rundown factory. Concrete floors. The smell of rust. Rope chafing against skin.

And that sweetly smiling face—was it Scarlett?!

The night sky from years ago. The flash of fire before the explosion. Eloane's screams. Everything slammed into her at once, pain spiking through her temples.

Drake reached out to touch her chin. "What are you remembering?"

Cecilia jerked her face away, her breathing ragged. "Get the hell away from me."

Drake's smile faded slightly. He grabbed her arm, trying to pull her out of the chair. Cecilia drove her knee up hard. Drake grunted. "Stubborn little thing."

He was about to drag her toward the couch when a deafening crash came from outside.

The next second, the door exploded inward.

Felix stood in the doorway, two security guards behind him, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His eyes immediately found Cecilia—the blood on her palm, the flush on her face, Drake's hand gripping her.

He swung.

His fist connected with Drake's jaw and sent him crashing into the coffee table. Glass shattered everywhere.