Chapter 148
Chapter 148
Serena's POV
Late night, Blackwood Tower underground parking garage.
The elevator doors on B2 slid open silently. I stepped out, pressing my fingertips against my throbbing temples.
I'd spent another midnight in the studio, finalizing the showpiece for the new season's haute couture collection.
Ethan was stuck at home tonight—Lily had come down with a fever and refused to let him go. He'd wanted to send Lucas to pick me up, but I'd refused. It was late. Lucas needed rest too.
The garage was cavernous and empty, filled only with the low hum of ventilation fans. My heels clicked sharply against the concrete floor, each step echoing in the stillness.
I reached into my Bottega Veneta woven leather bag, my fingers just brushing the cold metal outline of my car keys.
Suddenly, an engine roared to life, shattering the garage's silence!
I instinctively stepped back. A grimy, unmarked van with blacked-out windows shot out from behind a support column. Its tires screamed against the cold pavement as it lurched to a stop, blocking my car.
The door was yanked open. A wave of cheap tobacco smoke, body odor, and engine oil hit me in the face, making me wrinkle my nose. My heart rate spiked.
The man who jumped out didn't immediately grab me. He leaned forward slightly, his throat working as he swallowed. "Ms. Sterling, we're real sorry about this! Dragon wants to see you. We'd appreciate it if you'd come with us." He added with difficulty, "As long as you cooperate, we promise not to lay a finger on you!"
His words fell into an eerie silence.
The hum of the ventilation fans became unnaturally loud, mixing with the sudden pounding of my own heartbeat.
I didn't move. I just locked eyes with him and heard myself speak calmly: "Who the hell is Dragon? What makes him think I'd go anywhere for him?"
I saw his face go pale. The two men beside him exchanged a glance, fear flickering in their eyes.
I caught it and pressed harder. "You touch me, have you even thought about what Ethan will do to you?"
The stocky one—Zack—made a strangled sound, his body visibly stiffening.
The thinner one—Mike—his voice trembling: "We… we don't have a choice! Our families are in Dragon's hands."
I glanced at both of them, their faces twisted with internal conflict. "No choice? Touch me, and you'll be in far worse shape."
"Zack…" Mike looked at his partner, hesitation creeping into his voice.
That was the moment.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zack falter. I slammed my stiletto heel into the ground, pretending to struggle and kick—the platinum and diamond clasp on my Patek Philippe snapped.
The watch slipped off like a silent flash of silver. I felt it glide under my toe's guidance, sliding perfectly into the narrow gap beneath the van's left front wheel, hidden in the shadows.
This was my breadcrumb for Ethan.
"Move it, you idiots! If we don't deliver her, we're all dead!" Zack's voice finally crushed all hesitation.
Mike lunged forward in a panic. He didn't even touch me directly—just pressed my cashmere scarf over my mouth and nose, so gently it was like he was afraid of bruising me.
I felt the sharp chemical smell seeping through the fabric. Ether. It burned my nostrils. I deliberately slowed my resistance—not surrender, confirmation.
My toe scraped over the spot where the watch had fallen one last time, the faint metallic scrape perfectly masked by my muffled groan.
As they half-carried, half-pushed me into the van, my fingernail scraped hard against the rusted iron of the door frame—a Cartier gold-leaf shaped nail decal slipped off, lodging itself silently into a corroded crack in the door hinge.
The door slammed shut. The engine roared like a beast, and the van plunged into darkness.
---
The cramped interior reeked of smoke and sweat. The cold leather seats gave off a moldy smell.
I curled up in the corner, my head still swimming from the ether fumes lingering in my nose, but I forced myself to stay alert. I couldn't let my consciousness slip.
No one spoke.
Mike huddled in the passenger seat, his eyes glued nervously to the rearview mirror, his fingers drumming incessantly on the door. Zack sat a seat away from me, his massive frame rigid as stone despite the van's swaying.
I looked down at my right wrist—blood smeared where the watch clasp had scraped me. It bloomed across my moonlight-white satin dress like a stark crimson flower.
Mike's gaze landed on my wrist. He fumbled in the glove box and pulled out a small bottle of antiseptic spray, holding it out without meeting my eyes. "Your wrist… the clasp scratched you a bit."
I didn't take it.
I slowly rested my bleeding wrist on my knee, lifted my eyes, and swept my calm gaze over both of them. "Scared? Let me go now, and you might still have a chance. Otherwise, Ethan will make you experience…"
I paused deliberately, watching Zack's whole body shudder.
"...ten times the pain."
The antiseptic spray clattered to the floor.
Mike yanked his hand back like he'd been burned, shrinking into the shadows.
I turned my gaze back to the pitch-black night outside the window.
Being assertive was the only way to protect myself right now. The more forceful I was, the better my chances of shaking their resolve.
But I knew I needed Ethan to find me fast.
That watch. That nail decal. He would understand.
---
Ethan's POV
Blackwood Manor, 1:00 a.m.
Lily's burning forehead had finally cooled under the fever patch and medication. She'd fallen into a deep sleep.
I stood by her bed, watching the flush fade from her small face, and exhaled slightly in relief. I glanced down at my phone.
Serena's number—still off.
Something was wrong.
I dialed again. That cold, mechanical voice: "The number you have dialed is currently switched off." It jabbed into me like a needle. Serena wasn't the type to randomly turn off her phone. She knew I was waiting to hear from her.
For the past half hour, I'd been calling nonstop. Not once had it connected.
The weight in my chest grew heavier.
"Lucas, get to Blackwood Tower immediately! I'm right behind you!"
I headed straight to the garage and sped off, dialing that number over and over the entire way. Every single time, the same robotic message.
By the time I reached the tower, Lucas was already waiting at the side entrance with the head of security, his face grim under the cold white courtyard lights.
The moment I stepped into the B2 garage, an indescribable sense of danger washed over me like ice water, chilling me from the ground up.
The security chief rushed forward, pointing to the chaos near Serena's reserved parking spot. "Mr. Blackwood! We found Ms. Sterling's Maserati, and this…"
He held up an evidence bag containing Serena's Patek Philippe watch.
My gaze froze on it instantly.
I crouched down and pinched a tiny, dust-covered crystal from the ground—still glittering despite the grime. It was one of the decorative crystals from Serena's manicure. Nearby, a small puddle of suspicious liquid had stained the concrete, giving off a sharp chemical smell.
Ether.
I straightened, my knuckles white.
"Pull all the surveillance footage! Now!"
Just then, Lucas pulled an encrypted phone from his jacket. Someone was calling. He answered, and two seconds later, his face went completely ashen. He handed me the phone. "Mr. Blackwood. Network security center. Emergency direct line."
The tech supervisor's voice came through. "Five minutes ago, we detected an anonymous post on the company website's public message board backend. Our interception system flagged it—"
"Get to the point!" My voice was so cold I barely recognized it.
"The post contains GPS coordinates and one sentence: 'If you want to save Serena, come to the East District warehouses.'"
I snatched the phone. "Lock down those coordinates immediately!"
The system activated instantly. The coordinates pinpointed an abandoned industrial warehouse complex in Manhattan's East District.
I looked down at the tiny crystal in my palm.
Serena had left it for me.
She knew I'd come.
"Seal off every exit around the East District warehouses! Surround the target area! Bring everyone! Move out now!"