Chapter 104
My words hung in the air, and the hospital room fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor—a cold, mechanical countdown to Luke's fragile life.
I stared greedily at Luke's paper-white face, my fingertips gently tracing the raised blue veins on the back of his hand. They were the only proof he was still alive, yet they felt as fragile as glass, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
"Emily, you need to pull yourself together." Lily crossed to me, gripping my shoulder. Her palm was ice-cold, trembling almost imperceptibly. "This place is safe for now, but it won't last."
I looked up, my eyes burning with an almost self-destructive clarity. "I want to take him away. Switzerland. Or one of those private islands in Southeast Asia. Anywhere—anywhere beyond New York, beyond Lawrence's reach..."
"Impossible." Lily cut me off, her tone both desperate and absolute. "Every private dock, every airstrip, even the highway exits out of the state—they're all crawling with Victor family and Lowe family operatives. Officially, they're cooperating with the FBI to hunt down a serial killer. In reality, they're waiting for Luke to surface. We're trapped."
Trapped.
The word landed on my chest like a boulder, crushing the air from my lungs.
New York—this city that once held all my dreams—had become a giant, airtight cage.
Just then, Lily's phone buzzed violently on the table.
She glanced at the screen. Her face went chalk-white.
"Hello?" She answered, her voice taut as a wire.
I watched her, my heart climbing into my throat.
"Understood. Keep watching." Lily ended the call and turned to me, her eyes filled with terror. "Lawrence has lost his mind. After you disappeared, he froze all your bank accounts and put out a bounty for information on your whereabouts. Worse—he suspects you're still in the area. He's sending teams to sweep every private hospital and clinic."
Lawrence's paranoia was worse than I'd imagined.
He was a bloodhound with a scent, closing in step by step.
"Emily, we need a different approach." Lily took a deep breath, her eyes flashing with ruthless determination. "I'll get a fake body. Stage a car accident or a fire. Once 'Emily' is dead, Lawrence will shift his focus, and we can finally get Luke out."
"No!" I shot to my feet, my voice sharp with panic. "Lawrence isn't that easy to fool! He wants me alive—or a corpse with DNA confirmation. A fake body will only convince him I'm still breathing. It'll enrage him. He'll tear this city apart brick by brick!"
"Then what do you suggest?" Lily snapped, her composure cracking under days of accumulated pressure. "Sit here and wait to die?"
"I go back into the open." I steadied myself, my gaze hardening with grim resolve. "As long as I'm visible to Lawrence—as long as I play the part of a broken woman who's compromised to survive—he'll focus all his energy on tormenting and humiliating me. That'll give you the breathing room to contact overseas medical teams. That'll keep Luke alive."
"You're insane!" Lily grabbed my collar. "Do you have any idea what he'll do to you? He'll devour you whole. There won't even be bones left!"
"I know." A broken smile twisted my lips. "But Luke gave up half his life to protect me. Now it's my turn to be his shield."
We stood locked in a standoff in that cramped hospital room, the air thick and suffocating.
Then, without warning, the man on the bed let out a deep, rattling cough.
"Luke!" I lunged toward him.
His brow furrowed tightly. His breathing turned rapid and ragged. Moisture rapidly condensed on the inside of his oxygen mask.
His fingers spasmed, clutching the bedsheet like a man trapped in an agonizing nightmare.
"Doctor!" Lily slammed the emergency call button.
The door burst open. Doctors and nurses flooded in, launching into emergency protocols.
I was shoved into a corner, watching helplessly as cold machines swept over Luke's body, watching his vital signs spike erratically on the monitors.
In that moment, I made my decision.
While Lily was distracted with the medical team, I moved to a nearby table. With trembling hands, I tore off a sticky note and scribbled a quick message.
[Luke, stay alive. This time, I'll be the one protecting you. Wait for me.]
I folded the note and slipped it deep beneath his pillow. I took one last look at the man lying there—still handsome even in his fragility, even in his unconsciousness. Then I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, turned, and pushed open the rear door of the room.
The hallway lights flickered unevenly. I pulled my hoodie low over my face, avoiding the surveillance cameras, and descended via the fire escape stairwell.
Outside, the wind was biting, carrying the briny tang of the sea.
I didn't contact anyone. Right now, I couldn't trust a soul.
I flagged down a taxi and gave the driver an address—an abandoned chemical plant on the outskirts of Queens. A desolate, crumbling wasteland where vagrants and addicts gathered in the shadows.
My plan was simple: stage a fake abduction scene. Leave signs of a struggle. Drop some of my personal belongings. Make Lawrence think one of Luke's enemies had snatched me. Drive him into a frenzied search—and buy Luke the critical time he needed to be moved.
The taxi stopped a few hundred yards from the plant.
I trudged through muddy grass toward the dark silhouette of the buildings.
But before I could reach the gate, an overwhelming sense of danger—primal, sharp—exploded through my body.
Too quiet.
This wasn't the stillness of an empty field. This was the silence of a predator lying in wait.
I spun to run.
Too late..
The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked shattered the night.
A cold barrel pressed against the base of my skull.
"Miss Windsor," a stranger's voice drawled, dripping with mockery. "Out for a midnight stroll, are we?"
Not Lawrence. Not Victor family operatives.
My heart plummeted into an abyss.
Before I could speak, a rough black hood reeking of old leather was yanked over my head.
My vision vanished into absolute darkness.
My hands were wrenched behind my back and bound with a plastic zip tie that bit into my wrists.
Then I was hoisted over someone's shoulder and thrown into the trunk of a car reeking of gasoline.