Chapter 149 Captive
Lucian's POV
"You dare talk to me like that?!" Dominic's voice crackled through the phone speaker, sharp enough to make me pull the device away from my ear.
I'd called demanding to know Briar's location. His response had been laughter.
"Your little wolf needs to pay the price for sticking her nose where it doesn't belong." The amusement in his tone made Fenrir snarl inside my chest. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice Daniel meeting with Montgomery Medical's procurement director last week?"
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. So Dominic had been watching Daniel all along. "What did you do to them?"
"Daniel made his choice when he handed those formula copies to your precious Briar." Dominic's voice turned cold. "But don't worry—I'm about to dispose of him properly."
The line went dead.
I sat in the parking garage, engine running, every instinct screaming at me to race to the warehouse where Lily had traced Briar. But my hands gripped the wheel as I forced myself to think.
Daniel had deliberately given those copies to Briar, knowing Dominic was watching, painting a target on her back. The old phone was the real play—he knew I'd see Eleanor's murder video and lose all rational thought. Then I'd trade it for Briar's safety, and Daniel would walk away clean while I destroyed the only evidence against Dominic.
Fenrir raged against my control, demanding I go to her, protect her, tear apart anyone who'd touched her. But charging in blind would get us both killed.
I needed leverage. I needed someone Dominic actually cared about controlling.
My phone showed 11:47 PM. I accessed Sterling Pharmaceuticals' security system—Ash's codes from Susan's laptop still worked. The executive floor cameras loaded. There was Julian, alone in his office, surrounded by contracts, looking like he hadn't slept in days.
Still at work. Still under Dominic's thumb.
I put the car in gear and headed for Sterling Pharmaceuticals.
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Briar's POV
The cold woke me first, seeping through my clothes until my teeth chattered. Then came the smell—rust, mildew, and something sharper, like old blood. My head throbbed where I'd been struck. When I tried to move, metal scraped against my wrists.
Silver cuffs. The burning sensation confirmed it before I opened my eyes.
I forced myself to focus. The room was small and windowless except for a narrow opening where frigid air poured through. A bare bulb swung overhead, casting shadows across the rusted iron door. The concrete walls were stained dark.
Movement to my right—Eric Thorne, slumped against the far wall, hands bound behind his back. His face was bruised, one eye swollen shut, blood dried from his split lip.
The afternoon came back in fragments. Eric and Willow at the intersection. Eric's urgent expression. Then nothing until I woke here.
Footsteps echoed beyond the door. It swung open with a shriek, and Willow stepped inside wearing leather gloves and an expression of cold satisfaction.
She moved deliberately, letting the door clang shut before crossing to me. Her boots stopped inches from my legs. When she crouched down, expensive perfume mixed with the basement's decay.
"Didn't you deny taking it?" Her gloved fingers caught my chin, forcing my head up. "And you even took photos?"
I tried to pull away, but the silver cuffs had already weakened me. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your phone's already destroyed." Willow's smile was sharp. "And the tracking device? We dropped it on the other side of the city. So if Lucian's looking for you, he's going to the wrong address."
My stomach dropped. But Willow had thought of everything, and the small security camera mounted near the ceiling told me this wasn't just about revenge—this was being recorded. Dominic was watching.
The realization gave me an idea. Dangerous, maybe insane, but it was all I had.
"I'm pregnant." The words came out steadier than I felt. "Lucian's child."
Willow's expression didn't change. "So?"
"This child carries Kincaid bloodline too." I met her eyes directly. "You want to explain to Dominic why you killed his grandchild?"
For a moment, something flickered across her face—uncertainty, maybe calculation. Then she laughed, the sound brittle and wrong in the confined space.
"No need. I'll just deal with you." She stood, brushing imaginary dust from her coat. "A Kincaid heir? You can have one, so can I."
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and immediately declined the call, then reached into her pocket and withdrew something that caught the light—a small silver blade, the kind designed specifically for wolf combat.
"What did you say back then?" Willow turned the knife slowly. "Something about rats in the gutter?" She took a step closer. "But look at you now. What's the difference between you and those cockroaches trembling in corners?"
The blade moved toward my face with deliberate care. Willow pressed the flat of it against my cheek, the silver burning even through the thin barrier of steel.
"This face of yours is indeed beautiful," she murmured. "No wonder it caught Julian's eyes." The blade rotated, edge now facing my skin. "Let's start with this face."
My heart hammered against my ribs. I shifted backward as much as the cuffs allowed, gambling that Dominic was watching, that the mention of pregnancy would make him intervene. But the camera's red light blinked steadily, recording everything, and no one burst through the door.
"Why do you love Julian so much?" The question came out before I could stop it, desperate to buy time.
"Don't try to distract me." But Willow's hand had paused, the knife hovering an inch from my face.
"Never getting a response, doesn't it hurt?" I pushed harder. "Watching him look through you like you don't exist?"
"Beg." Willow's voice went flat. "Beg me to stop, and maybe I'll consider it."
"In your dreams." I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Two lives, if you really have the heart, then do it."
The knife didn't move. Willow stood frozen, her jaw tight.
"You're not afraid," I said quietly. "You just don't have that intention. You want me to cry and beg so you can feel better about yourself."
"And if I let you go?" Willow's tone was dangerous. "Would you stay away from him?"
"No." The answer came without hesitation. "Because I never needed to get close to him in the first place."
Silence stretched between us. Then Willow lowered the knife.
"It doesn't hurt," she said finally. "But I often wonder...if only I'd met him earlier." She straightened, tucking the blade back into her pocket. "Dominic's original intent was that I could dispose of you freely, but since you say you're pregnant...I won't touch you."
Relief flooded through me, but it died quickly at her next words.
"But you should know, leaving is impossible. You must wait until Sterling Pharmaceuticals finishes this last deal and all traces are erased."
Willow turned toward the door, then paused. "Why did you only curse me back, but didn't hit me?"
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
"What's so funny?" Willow demanded.
"You're returning my insult instead of my punch." I shook my head. "That's the difference between us."
For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then she stripped off her coat and tossed it in my direction. "I take responsibility for what I've done. We're even."
She was halfway to the door when she stopped, reaching for the knife in her pocket. I tensed, but before she could turn around, the iron door exploded inward with a deafening crash.
The bulb overhead swung wildly, throwing chaotic shadows. Through the swirling debris, I saw him.
Julian stood in the doorway, his face a mask of cold fury. His eyes found me immediately, taking in the silver cuffs, my position on the floor, Willow with her hand still in her pocket.
Something hit the wall with a sickening crack—Willow's body, thrown by Julian's rush into the room. She slumped against the concrete, blood already seeping from where her head had struck.
Then Julian was beside me, his hands surprisingly gentle as they examined the cuffs. "Are you hurt...why is your body so hot?"
His palm covered my face, testing my temperature. The concern in his voice was real, undeniable.
"Let go..." I tried to pull away, but my muscles wouldn't cooperate. The fever I'd been fighting since this afternoon had finally won.
Through blurring vision, I saw Willow push herself upright, retrieving the fallen knife. The way she looked at me—cold and calculating and absolutely certain that I'd manipulated this moment.
I tried to speak, to explain that I hadn't known he was coming. But my voice wouldn't work, and the room was spinning, and Julian's arms were the only thing keeping me from collapsing completely.
Then there was nothing but black.