Chapter 19 Setting a Trap
The voice was high-pitched and oddly familiar, but surrounded by the crowd of men, Quinley couldn't immediately place it.
"Great, another pretty girl," the leader sneered, his eyes gleaming with predatory interest. The other men joined in with crude laughter.
"This one's even better. Wonder how she'd be in bed?"
Their laughter echoed through the hospital corridor as Alicia strode toward them, radiating fury despite her elegant appearance.
She wore the same cream-colored Chanel suit from earlier, the tailored fabric accentuating her curves.
Naturally tall and made taller by stiletto heels, she moved with deliberate grace, her hips swaying with each step.
The contrast between her feminine allure and the fierce expression on her face created a jarring dissonance.
"Ms. Elikin, don't be afraid," she called out, grabbing Quinley's wrist and pulling her to safety. "I've called my brother. He'll be here any moment."
Quinley was stunned. She barely knew Alicia—there was no reason for her to help. Yet here she was, appearing in the hospital like an avenging angel, ready to fight Quinley's battles single-handedly.
Though Quinley had faced her share of difficult situations and wasn't easily intimidated, Alicia was different. Despite her confident stance, the hand gripping Quinley's trembled noticeably.
"Ms. Davis, I'm fine. You should leave," Quinley urged, gently pushing her away.
Debts could be repaid with money, but owing Alicia a personal favor was far more dangerous—a debt Quinley might never be able to settle.
"I can't leave you alone," Alicia insisted, her voice quavering despite her determined words.
Quinley couldn't tell if Alicia's concern was genuine or merely performative. Either way, this wasn't a debt she wanted to incur.
"Please go, Ms. Davis. It's not safe here."
But before Alicia could retreat, the men closed in around them.
"Since you're already here, beautiful, why not have some fun with us?" The leader's audacity was shocking as he reached for Alicia's face—her skin pale and delicate as porcelain.
Alicia paled further, her complexion ashen with fear as she ducked behind Quinley.
"W-what do you want?" she stammered, her composure crumbling.
The man's laughter was vulgar, his eyes roving over her body with undisguised lust.
"Weren't you trying to play hero? If you agree to entertain us for a couple of days, I might give her an extra week to pay off that loan."
His gaze lingered on Alicia's chest, where her curves created an enticing silhouette beneath the expensive fabric.
Alicia belatedly covered herself with her hands. "How much does she owe you?" she asked, her voice small.
Quinley's expression hardened, her eyes cold and sharp as steel. Despite being cornered, she emanated a quiet, dangerous strength.
"Let her go," she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension.
The man merely smirked, leaning closer to Quinley while pointing at Alicia. "Either pay up now, or she'll have to settle your debt. I'll count to three—if you don't have the money, she's coming with us."
"One..."
"Two..."
His voice dragged out each number. Alicia's grip on Quinley's arm tightened with each passing second.
"Three!"
Just as he lunged toward Alicia, the elevator doors opened, and a wave of men in black suits poured into the corridor.
They moved with military precision, quickly subduing the loan sharks and pinning them to the floor.
Harold Davis appeared next, flanked by two bodyguards.
Tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs, he cut an imposing figure in his custom black business suit. The hallway lights cast him in dramatic shadow, making his features difficult to discern.
He walked with purpose, carrying an aura of cold authority that made the air around him seem to drop in temperature.
Quinley recognized him immediately. Three years ago, when the Davis Group had collaborated with Apex Global on a project, she had accompanied Zachary to several meetings where Harold had been present. Back then, he'd been just the vice president of the company.
She remembered how, despite saying little during those meetings, his rare comments had always cut straight to the heart of any issue.
Rumors in business circles painted him as ruthlessly efficient—one of Rosewood City's most brilliant business minds.
Though Quinley had never interacted with him directly, his mere presence transformed the chaotic corridor into a space of tense silence.
"Harold!" Alicia released Quinley's arm and rushed toward her brother, tears streaming down her face. "They were threatening me!"
"Getting into trouble again?" Harold pulled Alicia close, his eyes dark and deep as he examined her for any sign of harm.
"It wasn't me," she protested. "They were harassing Ms. Elikin." She gestured toward Quinley.
Harold's penetrating gaze shifted to Quinley, sharp and assessing. Their eyes met before she could look away, and something in his intensity made her heart skip.
"Good evening, Mr. Davis," she greeted him politely.
Harold didn't recognize her but acknowledged her greeting with a slight nod.
"Let's go home," he said to Alicia, affectionately pinching her cheek before taking her hand.
"What about those men?" Alicia asked as they turned to leave.
Harold's eyes darkened. With a subtle gesture to his security team, he unleashed them on the loan sharks.
The corridor filled with the sounds of brutal efficiency—dull thuds and pained groans as the men who had threatened the women moments before were systematically incapacitated.
Quinley watched with a mixture of awe and horror. Harold's methods were effective but ruthless—perhaps excessively so.
"Harold, one more favor," Alicia whispered, leaning close to her brother's ear.
Though Quinley couldn't hear what was said, she saw Harold's sharp gaze return to her.
"How much do they claim you owe?" he asked directly.
Quinley quickly responded, "Mr. Davis, I can handle this debt myself. Thank you and Ms. Davis for your assistance."
She wanted no favors from either of the Davis siblings.
But one of the men lying on the floor spoke up: "One million dollars."
The air seemed to freeze around them.
Harold's expression darkened slightly as he reached into his pocket, produced a checkbook, and wrote out a figure with quick, decisive strokes before handing it to one of his bodyguards.
"Mr. Davis, please don't!" Quinley protested, but Harold ignored her completely.
The bodyguard tossed the check onto the floor. The loan shark leader scrambled to retrieve it, then signaled his battered companions to retreat. They limped away, defeated and humiliated.
Throughout the entire exchange, Harold never spoke directly to Quinley or even looked at her again.
A chill settled in her chest as she bowed her head deeply to him.
"Thank you, Mr. Davis."
Alicia stepped forward, once again linking her arm through Quinley's.
"Ms. Elikin, those men were absolute scum. Promise me you'll stay away from them in the future."
Quinley met Alicia's gaze. The fear had vanished from those eyes, replaced by something colder and more calculating than before.
"Are you coming?" Harold pulled out a cigarette, about to light it when he noticed the no-smoking signs. With a slight frown, he tucked it away and turned to Alicia expectantly.
"Go ahead, Harold. I need a moment with Ms. Elikin."
Harold departed without further comment, striding toward the elevator.
Quinley gently extracted her arm from Alicia's grip. "Ms. Davis, thank you and Mr. Davis for your help. I'll repay the money as soon as possible."
"You went to see Ms. Parker to borrow money, didn't you?" Alicia asked pointedly.
"Yes." Quinley lowered her eyes, nodding slightly.
"In the future, don't trouble Ms. Parker with such matters. Her health is poor, and doctors have advised against any stress." Alicia's tone was casual, almost friendly.
"For small amounts like this—a hundred thousand or a million—you can always come to me. I may not be wealthy, but I can certainly manage that much."
Her generosity sounded sincere, but Quinley had never considered asking Alicia for money.
Today's intervention, bringing her brother as reinforcement, filled Quinley with gratitude but even more with dread.
Alicia's eagerness to lend such a large sum couldn't possibly come from pure goodwill.
What had seemed like a free lunch had crashed down on her head, entangling her in a far more complex problem.
From this moment forward, the Davis siblings were her creditors, and Quinley had become the fish beneath their knife.
This maneuver—using someone else as a weapon while appearing helpful—was Alicia's specialty. Quinley had to admit she'd been outplayed.
"I'll remember that, Ms. Davis."
"You know," Alicia continued, "your problem is that you aim too high. You had a good position with Zach, but you weren't satisfied. You had to resign. Now look at the mess you're in. Have you thought about how you'll solve this?"
Quinley shook her head. "One step at a time."
She wasn't foolish enough to confide in Alicia. But she could already see the trap being laid before her, waiting for her to walk right into it.