Chapter 101
"You filthy bitch! Who the hell are you calling rotten?" Anna shrieked, her carefully cultivated composure shattering as she raised her hand to strike.
Her nails were filed to vicious points, catching the dim hallway light like little daggers. I didn't flinch. Just watched her with cold, dead eyes.
"Enough."
Lawrence's voice sliced through the air like a blade of ice. His hand shot out, catching Anna's wrist mere inches from my face. The force he used must have been considerable—her expression froze mid-pout as the color drained from her cheeks.
"Lawrence... she dared to speak to me like—"
"I said she's my guest." Lawrence released her wrist with a dismissive flick, a flash of dangerous irritation darkening his features. "Anna, don't test my patience. Get back to the auction."
Anna's eyes went wide with disbelief. She shot me a look of pure venom—the kind that could have killed if stares were lethal—before finally retreating on wobbling heels, her cloying perfume lingering in the air like a toxic cloud.
The corridor fell silent again. Lawrence turned to face me, his fingers trailing across the red marks on my throat where he'd choked me moments before. The snake-like touch raised goosebumps across my skin.
"Miss Windsor, that sharp tongue of yours won't save your life."
"If I'm such an eyesore, Mr. Lowe, why not let me leave?" I met his gaze head-on, swallowing back the nausea. "This whole performance is exhausting for both of us."
Lawrence's low laugh held a note of dark amusement. "Let you go? Of course. I'll give you two choices: return to the villa I've prepared for you and be an obedient little trophy mistress, or go back to that shabby apartment of yours and play the grieving widow. Though I can't guarantee you won't get any... unpleasant midnight visitors if you choose the latter."
"I'll take the apartment." The words came without hesitation.
Luke had given me that place. Even crawling with Lawrence's surveillance, it was better than being under his constant watch.
Lawrence seemed unsurprised by my choice. He gestured to his bodyguards to escort me to the car.
By the time I reached the apartment, it was well past midnight.
The space felt hollow and cold, thick with the dust of abandonment.
I didn't turn on the overhead lights—just switched on a single lamp that cast weak, sickly yellow light across the room.
I collapsed onto the sofa, clutching the encrypted phone Lily had slipped me like a lifeline.
'He's awake.'
The words played on repeat in my mind.
'Luke, you have to survive this.'
In the dead of night, every sound amplified. That's when I heard it—the faint scrape of metal against metal, like someone picking the lock at my front door.
My body went rigid. Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
Lawrence's threat hadn't been empty posturing. Had he actually sent someone? Or was this one of the Lowe family's killers?
I held my breath and crept toward the bedroom, extracting the handgun Luke had hidden for me in a secret compartment by the bed. The metal was ice-cold against my palm, but it was the only security I had left.
Pressed against the doorframe, I tracked the soft footsteps in the outer room.
Professional. Deliberate. Each step landed on my heart like a hammer blow.
"Who's there?" I kicked the door open, gripping the gun in both hands, barrel aimed into the pitch-black living room.
Nothing. The space was empty except for curtains swaying slightly in a draft.
The window stood open a crack—I could have sworn I'd locked it. Moonlight pooled on the floor, distorting shadows into menacing shapes.
I didn't lower the gun. Just stood there, watching that corner, until dawn broke and painted the sky in pale, sickly colors.
I didn't sleep at all that night. My nerves stretched so thin they were ready to snap.
The next morning, I dragged myself to the law firm, dark circles carved under my eyes like bruises.
My reputation might be in ruins, but I needed to reclaim my professional identity. It was my only remaining source of power—the only way to get close to the truth.
The moment I walked through the doors, a wave of contemptuous stares crashed over me.
Colleagues who'd once treated me with respect now avoided eye contact entirely.
"Miss Windsor, the managing partner wants to see you in his office." The receptionist's voice was ice. She didn't even look up.
I entered the office to find the partner standing, not bothering to offer me a seat. He shoved a document across his desk toward me.
"Emily, given your extended, unauthorized absence and the fact that your personal conduct has severely damaged this firm's reputation, the board has decided to terminate your employment effective immediately."
I stared at the termination letter. Felt... nothing.
The moment Lawrence publicly claimed me as his fiancée, I'd known this was coming.
"Fine." I signed without protest and turned to leave.
Back at my desk, whispers erupted around me—deliberate, meant to be overheard.
"Look at her. That's the woman who betrayed the Victor family to climb into Mr. Lowe's bed."
"She always acted so high and mighty. Turns out she's just another social climber selling herself to the highest bidder."
I tuned them out, wiping my computer clean and packing my belongings into a cardboard box.
As I headed for the exit, someone slammed into my shoulder—hard.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see anyone there."
Vera stood there in her designer heels, hand pressed to her mouth in mock surprise.
She'd been gunning for my position since I'd joined the firm—the perpetual runner-up who'd finally gotten her wish.
The box tumbled from my arms. Its contents scattered across the cold tile floor: my bar license, my favorite fountain pen, and the only photograph I had of Luke and me together.
"Vera. That was deliberate."
"Emily, what exactly do you think you are now? A disgraced mistress who got shown the door. You don't get to use my first name anymore." Vera's smile was all teeth and venom, eyes glittering with vindictive satisfaction. "I just got a little dizzy. The air in this firm has been polluted lately by certain people."
Laughter rippled through the watching crowd.
"Apologize." My voice came out flat. Deadly calm.
"Apologize? To you?" Vera let out a derisive laugh and deliberately lifted her heel, grinding it into the photograph. "Emily, if I were you, I'd find a nice quiet pier and jump off. Save everyone the embarrassment of looking at your face."
I watched her shoe twist across that image—the last tangible proof that Luke and I had existed together—and something inside me finally detonated.
The sharp crack of my palm against her face echoed through the entire office.
Vera stumbled sideways, clutching her rapidly swelling cheek, staring at me in stunned disbelief.
"You—you hit me?"
"That slap was a lesson in basic human decency. You're welcome."