CHAPTER 121: SAFE

It had barely been fifteen minutes since Cain arrived at the facility, but the damage immediately struck him as suspicious. Though minor, the wreckage appeared deliberate, as though orchestrated to seem like a genuine attack.

Cain frowned, his sharp eyes scanning every corner of the warehouse. To him, the scene looked staged. The broken crates, infested food and scorched walls seemed fresh, like the whole thing had been set up just the night before.

If he were paranoid, he’d suspect someone wanted him here, away from the mansion.

"Double the security around the facility! Twice over," he ordered Frank, his tone clipped.

Frank bowed in acknowledgment and turned to relay the instructions to the men stationed nearby. Cain stayed rooted in place, his gaze fixed on the facility, his frown deepening.

Cain believed in coincidences, but this? It reeked of a calculated move, one designed to pull his attention elsewhere. That was something he wouldn’t tolerate.

He refused to hide. If someone wanted to attack him, he would wait in the open. Let them come. Yet, as the minutes dragged on, the warehouse grounds remained eerily quiet. The workers moved in disciplined silence, and even the afternoon sun, muted by clouds, seemed subdued.

"Are you suspecting foul play?" Frank asked, stepping beside Cain.

Cain nodded once, his expression grim. "Yes," he said curtly.

Still, the lack of any actual threat gnawed at him. His instincts told him this wasn’t over—if anything, it was just beginning.

’Unless...’

The realization hit him like a lightning strike. He spun on his heel, a sharp curse under his breath as he strode toward the facility gates, his urgency palpable.

"We’re heading back to the mansion!" he barked, his pace quickening.

Frank jogged to match Cain’s steps, his voice laced with concern. "You think it’s an attack on the mansion?"

Cain didn’t respond, his mind racing. Every second spent away from the estate felt like a second too many. He climbed into the car, settling into the backseat with a steely expression as he gestured to the driver.

"Drive. As fast as you can."

The driver nodded, his hands steady as he obeyed Cain’s command, accelerating down the road at a dangerous speed.

Despite the urgency, Cain felt a heavy weight in his chest. Even at this pace, it would take an hour to return. An hour too long.

*************************

Fiona sat in Ravon’s office, resisting the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

It had barely been fifteen minutes, and Ravon’s droning monologue about his accomplishments and importance grated on her nerves. He spoke as though he were the lord of the mansion when, in reality, he was merely a vice.

She’d had enough.

"Ehm... Lord Ravon," she interjected, plastering on a polite smile.

Ravon’s eyes lit up like a child being offered candy. "Lady Fiona?"

"I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk with me," Fiona said, her voice sweet. "The warmth of the sun would be nice."

Ravon eagerly agreed, his enthusiasm almost nauseating. Fiona suppressed a shudder as she stood, allowing him to offer his arm. She placed her hand lightly on it, ignoring the way his gaze roamed over her in an overtly lustful manner.

"The garden, perhaps?" Ravon suggested, his tone oily.

Fiona shook her head, keeping her smile intact. "I’d like to stretch my legs a little first. They feel a bit stiff."

Ravon seemed delighted by the suggestion, clasping her arm tighter into the crook of his. She loathed the contact but allowed herself to appear fragile and soft, her body language carefully calibrated.

’Breathe, Fiona. This will be over soon,’ she reminded herself. Her goal was clear: to be seen. To ensure her presence was noted by enough people to create an ironclad alibi when Viole’s disappearance was discovered.

She allowed Ravon to lead her down the mansion’s corridors, her smile never faltering.

**************************

It felt like hours.

Violet sat in the stall, her arms tied painfully behind her back, her legs bound tightly. The acrid smell of manure and damp straw assaulted her nose, making her gag. She was sure she’d been placed in the section of the stables where the horse droppings were stored for fertilizer.

Her heart sank further with each passing moment.

’Who the hell is the stablekeeper?’ she thought bitterly. If Cain realized she was missing, the chances of him finding her among the dozens of stalls were slim.

She tugged at the ropes binding her wrists, wincing as the coarse material dug into her skin. Fear clawed at her throat. Her captors had left her alone for now, but every second was laced with the dread of their return.

The worst part was the looming terror that they might discover the truth—that she wasn’t the man she pretended to be.

Violet was about to mumble a desperate prayer when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart raced, the pounding echoing in her ears as two figures appeared, standing in front of her stall.

Both were grinning.

"So... after much deliberation, we decided we can’t risk leaving you here any longer," said the man who had spoken to her earlier.

His companion, Howie, scowled. "Reddrick, why are you even talking to him? You should’ve covered his eyes too!"

"Calm down, Howie," Reddrick snapped. "He’ll be dead soon anyway. It doesn’t matter." he said with an air of arrogance. To him, the act of disposing of someone wasn’t just routine—it was a minor inconvenience. There was a confidence in his tone, born not from skill but from a lifetime of evading consequences. His nonchalance wasn’t just about the act; it was about the thrill of power, the knowledge that in this moment, someone else’s life was entirely in his hands.

He crouched down, his smirk widening as he addressed Violet directly. "We’re taking you to a different location. A safer one."

Tears streamed down Violet’s cheeks as she stared up at him, her body trembling. Safe for them, she realized, but far more dangerous for her. The farther they took her, the slimmer her chances of rescue.

"Ple-please," Violet stammered, her voice shaky. "I—I can give you money. Anything you—"

Her plea was cut short by a brutal blow to the side of her head. Darkness engulfed her as she slumped forward, unconscious.

Reddrick sneered, pushing her limp body to the ground. He knelt beside her, preparing to roll her into a sheet for transport.

But as his hands brushed her chest, he froze.

"What the—"