Chapter 89

Chapter 89

"Help! Somebody help me!" Panic slammed into my chest as I screamed into the empty garage, praying someone—anyone—would hear me.

No one came. At this hour, the underground parking lot was completely deserted.

The man swung the baseball bat without mercy. It cracked against my body, and under the sheer force of the attack, I had no chance to fight back. All I could do was curl up and protect my head.

I don't know how long the beating lasted. When he finally stopped, the pain was so overwhelming I couldn't think. My ears rang. Everything blurred.

Through my fading vision, I saw him standing over me, looking down with cold indifference. His voice was low and rough. "This is a warning. If you're smart, you'll know what to do."

Then he bolted.

The suffocating pain made me curl tighter, gasping for air in ragged, desperate gulps.

Survival instinct kicked in. I dragged my hand to my pocket, fumbling for my phone, and hit redial on Joanna's number.

"Claire—"

"Help," I choked out before she even finished saying my name.

"Claire, where are you right now?" Joanna's voice shot up in alarm. I stammered out the address, my words shaking.

"Claire, hold on. We're coming right now!"

She didn't hang up. She stayed on the line the whole time.

I lay there on the freezing concrete, the cold seeping into my bones. I don't know how long it took, but finally I heard footsteps running toward me.

I forced my head up just enough to see Joanna sprinting in my direction. Relief washed over me, and I let myself pass out.

When I woke up again, everything around me was chaos. Joanna stood beside the hospital bed, her eyes red and swollen. The moment she saw me open my eyes, her face broke into a tearful smile. "Claire, you're finally awake. Does it hurt anywhere?"

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't get the words out. I tried to smile, but the pain twisted my face into a wince instead.

"Claire, don't talk. I'll get the doctor," Joanna said quickly, reassuring me before rushing out of the room.

The doctor came in shortly after and ran through a checkup. Once he confirmed I wasn't in serious danger, he told me to rest and left.

Clayton stepped closer, his eyes landing on my swollen cheek and the cuts on my skin. His eyes were rimmed red. "What happened? How did you get hurt this bad?"

I struggled to speak. "I don't know. After I got out of my car, I felt like someone was following me. He was wearing a mask—I couldn't see his face. He hit me with a baseball bat and said this was a warning."

"I knew it! It was Michael, that bastard!" Joanna's voice exploded with fury.

Clayton's expression darkened. "We can't accuse anyone until we know for sure. Let's call the police. Something this serious—they need to investigate."

I didn't stop them. After Joanna called the police, I had her take pictures of all my injuries.

That evening, the officers came to take my statement. I told them everything, step by step.

The officers exchanged a glance, their brows furrowed. "The camera in the area where you were attacked was broken. We can't rule out the possibility that it was sabotaged."

"So what does that mean? You won't be able to catch him?" Joanna's voice rose in frustration.

The officer gave her a calming look. "Don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of this. Claire's been hurt badly—let her rest for now."

After the police left, Joanna glanced at me cautiously and leaned in. "Claire, should we call Mr. Tudor?"

I frowned, about to refuse, but Clayton spoke up first. "Who's Mr. Tudor?"

I shot Joanna a look.

We couldn't tell my parents what happened. If they found out, they'd be worried sick.

Joanna caught on immediately and covered smoothly. "He's someone Claire knows—used to be in law enforcement, I think. I thought maybe he'd have a way to track down whoever did this."

I shook my head. "Forget it. Let's not bother Mr. Tudor. He's so busy—he probably doesn't have time for a small case like this."

But Joanna wasn't listening. She grabbed my phone and dialed before I could stop her, muttering under her breath, "We won't know unless we ask."

Before I could protest, the call connected. Ryan's voice came through the speaker. "Hello, Ms. Guise."

"Mr. Tudor, it's me." Joanna's bright, distinctive voice was instantly recognizable.

"Joanna? What can I do for you?"

She explained everything—the attack, the injuries—and finished with, "The police said it might be hard to find the guy. We were hoping you might have another way?"

Ryan didn't hesitate. "Leave it to me. I'll have an answer for you in three days at the latest."

After she hung up, Joanna's face lit up. She grinned at me. "Claire, don't worry. Mr. Tudor's so capable—he'll figure out who did this for sure. And if it turns out to be Michael, that scumbag, I'm going to sue him into the ground!"

Two days later, Ryan came to the hospital himself, bringing fruit with him.

I was caught off guard. Ryan and I had crossed paths a few times, but we weren't exactly friends. The fact that he came all this way to see me made me feel a little embarrassed.

Joanna took the gift and immediately asked, "Mr. Tudor, you came so fast—does that mean you found out who did it?"

All of us stared at him, tense. Ryan cleared his throat, seeming a little uncomfortable under the weight of our attention. He nodded. "I did find them. But it wasn't Michael."

That surprised me. I'd been so sure it was him.

"Not Michael? Then who?" Joanna asked, frowning.

"Amanda. She hired someone to do it."

I stiffened. I never expected it would be Amanda.

A pregnant woman—and she'd been that ruthless.

Joanna slapped her hand against her forehead. "Of course! How did I forget about her? Now that she's back with the Sinclair Family, she's dying for Claire to divorce Michael. No wonder she had someone warn Claire the other day. She's absolutely vicious."

Ryan waited until Joanna finished venting before continuing. "Amanda's been arrested. But since she's pregnant, they're being careful not to stress her too much. I doubt the interrogation will be too aggressive."

I thought for a moment, then looked up at Ryan with a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Tudor. If it weren't for you, this case might never have been solved. Either way, I'm just glad they caught her."

Whatever punishment Amanda faced, at least we knew the truth.

"Don't mention it." Ryan seemed to have come just to update us on the case. After that, he got ready to leave.

I was about to ask Joanna to see him out, but she beat me to it. "Claire, let me walk Mr. Tudor out. He really went out of his way for us."

I watched as Joanna, her cheeks flushed, followed Ryan out of the room.

I frowned.

Does she like him?