Chapter 103
The woman in the mirror stared back at me—pale-faced, but with eyes sharp as blades.
The firing from the law firm, the ransacking of my apartment, Lawrence's threats—all of it was designed to drown me completely.
But I knew I couldn't stop.
Pushing open the apartment door, that ever-present sensation of being watched crashed over me like a wave.
I didn't look back. I just pulled my trench coat tighter and walked toward the subway station without breaking stride.
I spent the entire day shuttling between smaller law firms across the city.
Yet every time I handed over my résumé, the moment they saw my name, their expressions shifted—from initial interest to immediate revulsion, as if I carried some contagious disease.
"Miss Windsor, we don't doubt your professional capabilities, but... our firm is small. We can't accommodate someone of your... profile."
After yet another polite rejection, I stood on a bustling Manhattan street corner and let out a bitter laugh.
Lawrence had been thorough. He hadn't just destroyed my reputation—he'd severed every possible lifeline, forcing me into a corner where my only option would be to crawl back to him, begging on my knees.
I wandered aimlessly, deliberately steering myself toward the crowded throngs of Broadway.
The setting sun stretched long, eerie shadows across the pavement.
I stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Around me, the city roared—honking horns, chattering pedestrians, the relentless pulse of New York.
Just as the light turned green and the crowd surged forward, a man in a dark hoodie slipped silently behind me.
Something cold and hard pressed against the small of my back.
My blood turned to ice. I could hear my own heartbeat slamming against my ribcage.
"Don't move, Miss Windsor." His voice was low and raspy, barely above a whisper. "Start walking. Turn left into the alley. Make a sound, and this bullet goes straight into your kidney."
A gun.
I stood frozen, my mind blank. Survival instinct kicked in, and I forced my legs to move.
He steered me through the bustling crowd and into a narrow, filthy alley reeking of garbage.
The sounds of the busy street faded away, replaced by oppressive silence.
"Who are you? Did Lawrence send you?" I forced myself to sound calm, though my voice trembled uncontrollably.
The man didn't answer.
He spun me around, one hand clamping down on my shoulder, the other pressing a cloth soaked in liquid over my nose and mouth.
A sharp, sickly-sweet chemical smell flooded my lungs. Ether.
I thrashed wildly, my nails raking across his arm and drawing blood, but my consciousness was slipping fast.
The world tilted, blurred, and finally collapsed into darkness.
I woke to the acrid smell of disinfectant.
My eyelids fluttered open. A stark white ceiling swam into focus above me, accompanied by the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor.
A hospital?
I bolted upright, and my head exploded with pain.
Memories flooded back—the gun, the ether, the abduction. I scanned the room frantically, searching for my attacker.
Instead, I found someone completely unexpected sitting beside my bed.
Lily.
She wore a plain black tracksuit, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were bloodshot, fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
"You're awake." She held out a glass of water, her voice hoarse.
I didn't take it. "What the hell are you playing at? Was that your doing?"
The memory of the gun against my spine, the suffocating ether—rage boiled up inside me.
Lily let out a hollow laugh and set the glass down. She rubbed her temples wearily. "If I hadn't staged that little kidnapping stunt, do you think you could've shaken Lawrence's men? He's had eyes on you twenty-four-seven."
"Lawrence has people watching your apartment, monitoring your phone, even staking out your usual coffee shops." She walked to the window and peered through a crack in the blinds. "The only way to get you out from under his surveillance was to make it look like someone else grabbed you first. That way, he'd assume you'd fallen into the hands of one of his enemies—not mine."
She turned back to me, her expression unreadable. "Emily, I don't have time to explain everything. Just... come with me."
Warily, I followed her down a long corridor to a heavily guarded private suite.
Lily swiped a keycard and pushed open the soundproof door.
Luke lay motionless on the bed.
He still wore an oxygen mask, his face ghastly pale, his body a tangle of IV lines and monitoring cables.
He looked even thinner than when I'd last seen him in that brick house—like a plant withering away.
"Luke..."
My tears came the instant I saw him. I collapsed beside the bed, clutching his cold hand and pressing it against my tear-streaked cheek.
"He hasn't woken up yet." Lily's voice cracked behind me. "The doctors said it's a miracle he's alive at all. His willpower is... extraordinary. But the explosion damaged his internal organs, and he's developed a severe lung infection."
I sobbed uncontrollably, my tears falling onto the needle marks dotting his hand.
Luke, you liar. You promised to protect me. And now you're lying here like a broken doll.
After a long while, I wiped my eyes and turned to Lily, my gaze sharpening. "What's your plan? Lawrence won't stay fooled for long. And those vultures at Victor Group are already circling the CEO position."
Lily slumped against the wall, defeat written all over her face.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice hollow. "I'm losing ground at Victor Group. The board members have banded together to force me out of my interim role. Worse, Lawrence has bought off the media. Luke's being branded as a mass murderer—a 'high-seas killer.' The FBI and God knows how many other factions are hunting for him."
She looked at her brother lying helpless on the bed, her voice trembling. "If they find out Luke's still alive, he won't even make it to trial. Someone will arrange an 'accident' long before that."
Silence filled the room like a tomb.
Outside, New York's neon lights blazed against the night sky, but their glow couldn't penetrate this place of suffocating despair.
Luke had become a target for everyone—and Lily and I were left guarding a fragile flame that could be snuffed out at any moment.
I tightened my grip on Luke's hand, feeling the faint pulse beneath my fingertips.
"If they want to play games, then we'll play." I stared at his closed eyelids, each word a vow—to him, to myself. "Lily, get me every financial report Victor Group has. Get me everything on Lawrence's background. I'm a lawyer. As long as he's still breathing, I can turn this death trap inside out."