Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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I stared at the flash drive in my hand, the weight of it far heavier than its size should allow.
Back at the penthouse, I slipped inside quietly. Liam was still on the phone, barking orders to his legal team. I didn’t disturb him—I went straight to the study, locked the door, and inserted the drive into the encrypted laptop Gabrielle had set up for emergencies.
The screen lit up.
Encrypted files. Four folders.
Each labeled with dates and names I didn’t recognize—until I clicked the first.
And froze.
Inside were bank transfers—large sums routed from shell companies to offshore accounts. The recipient? Victor Rockwell.
I clicked the second folder.
Video footage. A hidden camera, grainy but clear. Victor and a man I recognized only from Liam’s nightmares—Wendell Rourke.
I gasped.
Rourke had once been Liam’s most ruthless rival—ousted in a hostile takeover years ago. Everyone believed he’d vanished. Bankrupt. Broken.
But he wasn’t gone.
He’d gone underground.
And now he was back.
A silent partner pulling Victor’s strings.
A video played:
> Victor: "She’s becoming a problem. Christabel needs to be removed—cleanly."
Rourke (smirking): "Then make it look like a scandal. Or an accident. The boy, too. He’s the real prize. If Liam dies, the empire passes to Ryan."
My stomach lurched.
I slammed the laptop shut, bile rising in my throat. They weren’t just trying to destroy our reputation—they wanted Liam dead. And Ryan… taken.
I staggered out of the study.
Liam was off the phone now, rubbing his temple. He looked up at me, eyes narrowing.
“What happened?”
I didn’t speak. I simply handed him the drive.
He watched the videos in silence, his face growing paler with each second.
And then he whispered the name.
“Rourke.”
I nodded. “He’s back.”
Liam stood, fists clenched.
“I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”
—
By morning, we had a plan.
Gabrielle and Marcus assembled a covert team. Rourke couldn’t know we were onto him. Not yet. We needed leverage, a trap that would catch both him and Victor red-handed.
And that meant bait.
“Use me,” I said quietly.
Liam turned to me, horrified. “Absolutely not.”
“They think I’m weak. The broken twin. The emotional liability. Let them keep thinking it. I’ll meet with Victor. Pretend to crack. Pretend to walk away from you.”
“No,” he said sharply. “We don’t need to use you as bait. We’ll find another way.”
I cupped his face, gently.
“I trust you to protect me. Trust me to protect us.”
He didn’t answer. But his arms wrapped around me tightly, like he couldn’t bear to let go.
“I’m not losing you again,” he murmured.
“You won’t.”
But we both knew what was coming.
And it would take everything we had to survive it.
—
That evening, I sent Victor a message.
> “You were right. I don’t belong in Liam’s world. Meet me at the old conservatory. Midnight.”
He responded within minutes.
> “Smart girl. Come alone.”
Liam wasn’t happy.
But the trap was set.
—
The old conservatory was crumbling—shattered glass, vines curling through cracks, moonlight filtering in through broken windows. I stood in the center, arms folded, pretending to be nervous.
Victor arrived first. He looked smug, dressed in black, eyes cold.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said.
“I always knew you’d come crawling back,” he sneered. “Where’s Liam?”
“Gone,” I lied. “He doesn’t trust me anymore. After everything, I don’t blame him.”
Victor circled me slowly. “You’re lying. But I don’t care. You’re more useful to me when you’re desperate.”
A shadow moved behind him.
I tensed.
Rourke.
Older. Grayer. But unmistakable.
“Well, well,” he said smoothly. “The famous Christabel Lockhart. You’re prettier than your sister. And far more dangerous.”
“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.”
He chuckled. “It’s a shame, really. You could’ve had everything. Instead, you chose Liam.”
“I chose love.”
He snorted. “That’s a fool’s currency.”
Behind me, the lights flickered.
The signal.
I stepped back.
Victor lunged—realizing too late it was a setup.
The glass above shattered.
Gabrielle’s team rappelled down like shadows, weapons raised. Marcus emerged from the far corner, gun drawn.
“Freeze!” he shouted.
Victor and Rourke were surrounded.
I exhaled, shaking.
It was over.
Or so I thought.
Until Rourke smiled.
“You really think I didn’t plan for this?”
He tapped his ear.
Somewhere outside, an engine roared.
And my heart dropped.
Ryan.
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