Chapter 4
"You'll get your termination letter tomorrow morning," Richard said without looking back as he slid into the car and slammed the door. "As for the judge, my legal team will handle it. Now, get the fuck out."
The car surged forward, leaving Vincent and the security detail in the dust. A suffocating silence filled the cabin. I slumped against the leather seat, gasping for air. The sedatives and the extreme mental strain were pushing me to the breaking point.
"Give it back to me," I rasped, my voice weak. "That's my evidence. Without it, I can't win custody of Lily." "That’s not evidence, Evelyn." Richard didn't look at me. He stared out the window at the blurred city lights, his profile hard as iron under the streetlamps. "It’s a cursed relic. Touching it will draw out things that should stay buried. You need to worry about your own survival right now, not Lily."
"My survival?" I let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "You're resorting to curses and superstition just to keep me? Richard, you're not just a controlling freak, you're a pathetic liar! You're terrified I'll find a loophole in the prenup and take half your assets, terrified I'll take Lily, so you're playing these mind games!" "Assets? Lily?" He whipped his head around, a flash of genuine irritation in his eyes. "You think I give a damn about paper wealth and a human child? Evelyn, you have no idea what kind of war you've just stepped into!"
"Then what the hell were you burning in the fireplace this morning?" I gritted my teeth, forcing out the question that had been torturing me all day. Richard looked at me. His eyes were as deep and dark as a dry well, hiding too many secrets I couldn't decipher. "I was burning... garbage from the past," he said slowly. "Garbage that has no business existing in this century."
"Garbage from the past?" I latched onto the words. "You mean that woman is your past? You've known her for a long time? Is she your ex? Your first love?!" My brain immediately started rationalizing his words, filling in the blanks with the most mundane, painful logic. Right, it had to be that. He had a clingy ex. She burned some old love tokens in the fireplace this morning, he caught her, and he destroyed the evidence so I wouldn't see it.
Richard closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Think whatever you want," his voice laced with exhaustion. "As long as you're safe and within my sight, you can hate me all you want."
"I don't hate you," I bit my lip, tears welling in my eyes. "I just want to win Lily back. Richard, can't we just have a clean break? Let me go, and I swear I'll walk away with nothing. Not a single cent." "No." His refusal was instant and absolute. "You're not going anywhere. Unless I'm dead."
The weight of those words was crushing. So heavy it sent a chill down my spine. "You're a psychopath," I trembled.
"Maybe." He opened his eyes. In the dim cabin, those dark irises flashed again with that unsettling, molten-gold glow. "But I'm the psychopath who's going to keep you alive." He reached out, wanting to touch my cheek. I instinctively turned my head, dodging his hand.
His hand froze in mid-air for two seconds before slowly retracting. "Get some sleep, Evelyn," he murmured. "When you wake up, everything will be fine." He was lying. I knew he was lying.
But I was too exhausted. The sedatives finally took full control of my body. In the last second before my consciousness slipped into darkness, I felt him take off his cedar-scented overcoat and gently drape it over me. And inside the lining of that coat, I caught a glimpse of a dark crimson stain. Blood. Fresh, still-wet Lycan blood.
***
I was jolted awake by the harsh buzzing of my phone.
Opening my eyes, I saw the familiar vaulted ceiling of the master suite at the Blackwood Estate. I sat up abruptly, my head pounding. Richard wasn't in the room, but the door was locked from the outside.
I threw myself at the door, twisting the brass handle with all my might. It didn't budge. "Richard! Let me out!" I pounded on the heavy wood, my voice hoarse. No response.
My phone was vibrating like crazy on the nightstand. I lunged for it. It was a barrage of texts from Vincent. [Evelyn, the judge moved the hearing up! 8 AM tomorrow. If you don't show, Richard gets automatic sole custody of Lily!] [The Cleaners are scheduled to demolish the old manor at 6 AM to sanitize the site. There will be nothing left to find!] [Are you out of your mind? Why is your phone off? Text me back the second you see this!]
8 AM tomorrow. It was 3 AM now. I had less than three hours.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. My eyes landed on the heavy solid-wood door. The front way was a no-go. I turned to the balcony. We were on the second floor, and below was a gravel garden bed. Jumping would mean death or broken bones. But my eyes caught a cast-iron drainpipe running down the edge of the balcony. It was too thin. It could never support the weight of an adult woman. But I was out of options.
I climbed over the railing, gripping the freezing cast-iron pipe with both hands. Just as I was about to slide down, something bizarre happened. A searing heat suddenly surged from my palms, shooting up my arms to my fingertips. The sensation... it felt like gripping a burning ember in the snow.
*Crack.* A sickening sound of tearing metal echoed in the night. I froze. The solid cast-iron drainpipe, two inches thick, had been crushed inward by my bare hands! My fingers had sunk deep into the metal, leaving five distinct, perfect indentations.
How was that possible? I stared at my hands in absolute horror, my mind going completely blank. But time wasn't on my side. Relying on this bizarre, terrifying strength, I slid down to the ground as silently and nimbly as a cat.
The estate was dead silent. Even weirder, my hearing seemed to be dialed up to an impossible level. I could hear the footsteps of two security guards changing shifts fifty yards away. I could even hear the sharp clink of coins bouncing in their pockets. "Quarter past three. No one's watching the old manor. Boss says the wife can't possibly get out." "Shh, keep it down. Heard the boss is in a foul mood tonight. Tore through a dozen of our guys."
I held my breath, sticking to the shadows along the wall. Like a ghost, I bypassed all the patrol routes and headed straight for the sealed Victorian-style old manor at the back of the estate.
The heavy doors of the old manor were plastered with court-ordered seals.
