'I Do' For Revenge
Chapter 192: Make It Through
CHAPTER 192: MAKE IT THROUGH
~LAYLA~
"Alright," Tye said, straightening up. "So, what’s the call? If she’s the mole, we need to grab her now before she runs ."
"And if she’s innocent?" I countered. "If we drag her into an interrogation room after she just watched her boss get blown u p, we lose her trust forever. We lose t he evidence she promised us. We lose the only leverage we have aga inst Henry."
I took a deep breath. It was a gamble... a massive one.
"Stand down, Tye," I ordered. "Do not intercept ."
Tye’s jaw tightene d. "Layla..."
"Let her go home. But I want eyes on her apartment. Front door, back door, fire escape. If she so much as opens a window, I want to know. But don’t touch her . We talk to her tomorrow. We ask he r about everything, and we get the evi dence."
Tye held my gaze for a long second, assessing me. Then, he nodded slowly. "Copy that. Surveillanc e only."
He stepped out of the ro om to make the calls, leaving me alone wi th t he weight of the decision I’d just mad e.
I slumped b ack against the wall, the adrenaline crash hitting me again. My hand brushed against my pocket, and I felt my phone. I pulled it out, intending to call Helena to confirm she’d gotten home safely.
Bu t the n I saw a missed ca ll.
From Marco.
The man who had actually sent the bomb.
I st ared at the s creen, my blood running cold. I had been react ing all day. Runnin g from the fire, running t o the hospital, running the board meeting. I had forgotten I had his number from the business din ner weeks ago.
My thumb hovered over the callba ck button. This was insane. This was reckless.
I dialled.
It rang once. Twice.
"Layla," a voice answered, sounding amused. "I was wondering when you’d call. I assumed you’d be... busy. Planning a funeral, perhaps?"
The sound of his voic e made bile rise in my throat, but I forced it d own .
"He’s a live, Marco," I said, my vo ice cold as ice.
"Is he?" Marco sounded unimpressed. "I mean, it sounds like he’s out of commission... out of the picture. That shoul d serve as a lesson to anyone who threatens me. Now your husband isn’t there to protect you."
"I don’t need him to protect me," I said. "You made a mistake today. You thought blowing up the office woul d scare me into acc epting you? You thou ght fear would make me compliant?"
"Fear is a powerful motivator."
"Not for me," I snapped. "You didn’t create fear, Marco. You created a war. A nd you missed the tar get."
Marco laughed softly, and the c hilling sound made my skin crawl. "Did I? The stock t anked. The board is panicked. And your h usband is well... who knows. I’d s ay I h it the bullseye. But you... you are proving to be stubborn. I like that."
"How did you get the bomb in?"
"I u se w hatever tools are available," he replied vaguely. "But let’s not dwell on the p ast. Let’s talk about the future. Specifically, the deadline... and you."
"The deadline," I repeated as I tightened my grip on the phone.
"You have for ty-eight hours left," Marco said, his tone shifting from amused to business. "Our ninety million, or there’s more where that package came from."
"You’re threatening me?"
"I’m negotiating, Layla. Tick tock. The clock didn’t stop just because Axel went to the hospital."
"I’m not coughing out what I didn’t swallow," I replied. "An d I’m coming for you, M arco. Remem ber that."
"I look forward to it, niña. "
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone, my hand shaking slightly from rage. He was so confident. So sure he had won. So certain that I would c rumble withou t Axel standing beside me.
He had no idea who he was dealing with.
The door opened and Tye st epped back in. He took one look at my face, th en at the phone in my hand.
"Was that Ma rco?" he asked. Something told me he had heard a bit of the conversation "You called him."
"I had to know," I said. "He confirmed the deadline. We have forty-eight hours."
"Did he admit to the bomb?"
"He gloated about it," I said bitter ly. "He said he uses ’available tools.’ Whatever that mean s."
"W e need answers, Tye. And we can’t wait for them to come t o us."
"So what’s the plan?" Tye asked, cro ssing his arms.
I looked toward the ICU whe re my husband lay broken. "Tonight we hold the fort. We keep Axel safe. But tomorrow morning, I’m not waiting for Helena to come to work. We’re going to her."
"You want to ambush her ?"
"No," I s aid, straightening my jacket. "I want to look her in the eye when I ask her about the package. I want to see her face when I show her that security log. And I want that evidence against Henry before the sun goes down tomorrow. If Marco wants a war in forty-eight hours, I need ammunition."
Tye nodded slowly, processing the plan. "And if she ’s guilty? If she confesses ?"
"Then we deal with it," I said. "But I don’t believe she is. Not in my gut. And right now, my gu t is all I have left to trust."
"Yo ur gut’s been pretty reliable so far," Tye admitte d grudgingly.
"Let’s hope it stays that way ."
I walked back to the ICU door, pausing with my hand on the handle. Through the sm all window, I could s ee Axel’s still form, the mon itors blinking their steady rhythm.
"G et some rest, Tye," I said without turning around. "Shift change in four hours. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."
"What about y ou?" he asked. "When are you going to rest?"
I p ushed open the door, the antiseptic smell washing over me again.
"When thi s is over," I said quietly . "Whe n my husband is awake. When Henry and Charles are in priso and Marco is dealt with, t hen I’ll rest."
I stepped inside and let the door close behin d me, returning to my vigil at Axel’s bedsi de.
Forty-eight ho urs.
Two days to find ninety million dollars we didn’t steal , to prove Henry’s guilt, to protect the company from vultures, and to survive whatever else Marco had planned.
I reached for Axel’s hand again, holding it tight.
"We’re going to make it through this," I whispered to him. "Both of us. To gether."
The only response I got was the steady beep of the monitor.