Chapter 62 The trap
Chapter 62 The trap
Jocelyn’s POV
My blood ran cold.
I tapped Richard gently and he bent slightly toward me.
“What’s wrong?” He seemed completely unaware.
“Colton’s here,” I whispered.
“Colton?” He sounded confused, lifting his head to scan the room.
Then he found him.
Colton stood just a few feet away, his eyes already locked on mine, a mischievous smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. The moment his gaze shifted to Richard, the smirk dissolved instantly, replaced by a wide, warm smile so convincing it was almost frightening.
“Hey, Uncle!” Colton extended his hand for a handshake.
Richard tucked both hands calmly into his pockets and looked at his nephew with eyes completely void of warmth.
“Why are you here?” His voice carried no emotion whatsoever.
I nodded in quiet affirmation.
“Uncle, I’ve learned my lessons the hard way,” Colton replied, his expression morphing into practiced remorse—brows slightly furrowed, eyes soft, voice humble. “Besides, we’re family. I couldn’t miss an important event like this.”
I watched him with sharp eyes. Every word was rehearsed. Every expression calculated.
I just couldn’t prove it yet.
“That’s not enough explanation for defying my direct order,” Richard said icily.
Colton’s eyes darted quickly around the room, scanning for something or someone. Then his gaze landed across the hall and a slow, subtle smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Lilian was walking toward them.
“Richard dear,” Lilian said warmly, placing a gentle hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I believe Colton has learned whatever lesson you intended. Can we overlook this tonight? It’s a celebration.”
My eyes widened. I turned to Richard whose expression mirrored my shock exactly.
“You knew Colton was suspended?” Richard asked carefully.
We had been so deliberate about keeping that information from her.
Colton was a real snake.
“Come now, son. Colton is my grandson. He tells me everything.” Lilian smiled. “Didn’t he just make a mistake with company funds?”
Company funds.
This man hired thugs to beat my unborn child out of my womb, and Lilian was standing here calling it a financial mistake.
Colton wore his smug smile like a medal, grinning sheepishly at me from behind Lilian’s shoulder.
Richard simply shook his head, jaw tight.
“So Colton is staying?” Lilian asked brightly.
“Yeah,” Richard said after a long pause, clearly choosing his battles wisely.
They were still talking when a presence materialized at my side.
Kylie.
My stomach turned.
She wore a fitted black dress and her signature fake smile, the one that never quite reached her eyes.
“Why are you here?” I asked coldly.
“Are you not happy to see your sister?” The words escaped through slightly gritted teeth.
I let out a short, mocking laugh loud enough that several nearby guests turned briefly in my direction.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, dropping her voice. “Privately.”
“Say whatever you need to say right here.”
I noticed Colton attempting subtle eye contact with Kylie across the room. They were trying to be discreet and failing miserably. It was almost entertaining.
“Please, Jocelyn. It’s about Dad,” Kylie said, and her face shifted, jaw softening, eyes suddenly glistening, the performance of a wounded daughter executed with practiced precision.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing couldn’t fool me twice.
“Why not hear her out?” Colton said smoothly, turning to Richard with an easy smile. “It’s a private family matter. Isn’t it, Uncle?”
Richard scanned Kylie briefly, then let out a small sigh.
“If it requires privacy, grant her that much, Jocelyn,” he said quietly.
I looked at him with undisguised disappointment. The last thing I wanted was to step away from his side in a room where Colton was already moving pieces around a board I couldn’t fully see.
But I respected Richard’s request.
I stepped out with Kylie.
She looped her arm smoothly through mine before I could object, steering me with surprising firmness—away from the main hall, past the side corridor, through a set of glass doors, and out into a dimly lit outer terrace that wrapped around the far end of the building.
I looked back.
Richard and the others had completely disappeared from view.
“Why did you bring me this far?” I asked, stopping deliberately.
Kylie released my arm and turned to face me, her expression settling into something carefully crafted between concern and sincerity.
“I don’t want anyone eavesdropping. Rumors travel fast nowadays,” she said.
“Rumors of what?”
“Jocelyn.” She exhaled slowly. “Dad is terribly sick. He asks about you every single day.”
“That man stopped being my father the moment he chose your mother over mine,” I said flatly.
“You can’t abandon your family just like—”
“Excuse me?” My voice sharpened. “The family that treated my mother and me like trash? The family is the one standing right in front of me that slept with my fiancée.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions. I have nothing to do with Colton,” she said, her voice steady.
I let out a slow, deliberate scoff and nodded with exaggerated admiration.
“You’re genuinely gifted, Kylie. Truly. Always the victim. Always the innocent one standing in the wreckage you created yourself. And now you’re here telling me your father is ill because of that woman you call a mother.”
“I will not stand here and let you insult her—”
“Then let me go.”
I moved to step past her.
Something stopped me.
A feeling. That particular prickling at the back of the neck that comes when something is deeply, fundamentally wrong.
I stretched my neck, peering past Kylie toward the glass doors.
And I saw it.
Colton, moving swiftly through the far end of the hall—flanked by a man and a woman I didn’t recognize. Between them, barely upright, pale-faced and glassy-eyed, was Richard.
He looked drugged.
“Richard—” I moved immediately.
Kylie’s hand clamped around my wrist like a vice.
“Let go of me!” I tried to pull free but her grip was iron.
“Where are you going?” Her voice dropped low, all pretense of the grieving daughter completely gone. “To chase after a man who doesn’t even care about you?”
“Get your hands off me!” I screamed, twisting against her grip. But we were completely secluded. The music from inside the hall swallowed every sound. No one could see us. No one could hear me.
Kylie stepped closer, her face inches from mine now, something cold and triumphant in her eyes.
“You should have stayed away when you had the chance—”
The sharp crack of a slap split the air.
Kylie’s head snapped sideways. She stumbled, lost her footing entirely, and went sprawling to the ground, her grip releasing my wrist completely.
I spun around.
Lauren stood there, chest heaving, hand still raised, eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen on her face before.
“Lauren,” I breathed, completely stunned.
She didn’t look at me yet. Her eyes were fixed on Kylie on the ground, every line of her body radiating controlled rage.
Then she turned to me, and something in her expression cracked open—relief, anger, fear, and love all tangled together in the way only years of friendship could produce.
“Where is Richard?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“They took him,” I said. “Colton and two others. He looked drugged, Lauren. He looked—”
“Then we move. Now.” She grabbed my hand.
And we ran.