CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The first thing I registered was the sharp scent of antiseptic, sterile and suffocating. My eyelids felt like lead, but I managed to crack them open, squinting against the harsh glare of fluorescent lights overhead. Everything was a blur—white walls, beeping machines, and the faint hum of voices. My side throbbed with a dull ache, and when I shifted slightly, a sharper pain shot through me, forcing a groan from my lips.

I wasn't alone.

The voices became clearer as I forced myself to focus. Marcus and Reid stood a few feet away, their sides partially turned toward me. They spoke in low tones, their voices charged with tension.

“You know you're endangering her, right?” Marcus's voice was tight, each word cutting through the quiet.

“I know what I'm doing, Marcus. With her in the mansion, things will be a lot easier,” Reid countered smoothly.

“Yeah, easier for you.” Marcus sneered, jabbing a finger at Reid's chest. “Do you know what Klaus will do to her when he finds out?”

Reid raised his hands, palms up, as if conceding. “Relax, Marcus. I know she means a lot to you. I won't let anything happen to her. To her, I'm just her boss. She's my bodyguard, sure, but trust me— I'll be the one doing the protecting.”

Marcus scoffed, shaking his head. “Trust? Windsor's don't get to use that word. I learned that the hard way, and I'll make it easier for Eugene. There's no way in hell I'm letting her take that job again.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Reid's lips, but he quickly erased it before Marcus could notice.

“I don't think you understand. We don't exactly have a choice here. She told me my dad wants her back on duty, and we both know my dad doesn't handle rejections well.”

“Exactly. After everything that's happened in the past, I'm willing to be your right-hand man again—just let her go. I don't want you dragging her into your mess,” Marcus snapped.

“Ouch. Such hurtful words—calling my life a mess.” Reid chuckled and threw a glance over his shoulder.

Instinctively, I snapped my eyes shut, feigning unconsciousness, my heart pounding in my chest.

Believing I hadn't overheard, Reid continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. I could barely make out his words.

“I loved when you used to be my right-hand man, but now? You're as useless as a radio without batteries. Eugene would be much more useful to me than you.”

Marcus's expression hardened, and for a moment, I thought he might punch Reid. Instead, he curled his hands into fists, clenching them tightly at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

“Fine. At least tell me what your plan is. Why are you so set on keeping her as your bodyguard?”

Reid leaned closer, his mouth nearly brushing Marcus's ear.

“Sorry, not sorry, but that's a secret,” he said, his dry laugh carrying an unsettling edge.

For the first time, Reid didn't look like the sweet, considerate person I thought I knew. Instead, there was something manic in his eyes as he stared Marcus down. Their tense exchange painted a very different picture of their relationship. They'd seemed like old friends to me, from what Reid had told me, but it was clear now that they hated each other with equal fervor.

“Reid, I swear, if anything happens—”

“Yeah? and—” Reid stepped closer, his voice dripping with challenge. Despite being shorter and far less intimidating physically than Marcus, Reid didn't look the least bit afraid. “What're you going to do? I think you're forgetting a lot of old memories, Marcus.”

Marcus fists trembled, veins bulging against his skin. He looked like he was barely holding himself back. Seeing him this restrained terrified me. Marcus wasn't the type to back down from anyone—but somehow Reid had him under control.

Reid laughed and turned toward the door. Before stepping out, he glanced back at me, flashing a smug smile.

“Take a day to rest, I'll make up some excuse for you to my dad. See you on Monday, sweetheart.”

Marcus whipped his head toward me, startled. His wide eyes made it obvious I'd been caught eavesdropping.

Reid winked at me, then turned back to Marcus, his smile laced with unspoken threats. Without another word, he left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, heavy with unanswered questions. I stared at Marcus, expecting him to scold me, maybe blame me for ending up in this situation. But instead, he wore an expression I hadn't seen before—one filled with pity.

“I'll get the doctor,” was all he said before leaving and locking the door behind him.

I was alone again, my thoughts racing. Between my family's murderer case and whatever this mess was, I felt like I was drowning. I glanced around the room, hoping for a distraction, but my mind kept replaying Marcus and Reid's conversation.

At least Reid knew I'd overheard everything. There was no need to pretend I trusted him anymore. Maybe, just maybe, I could get some honest answers now.

Marcus returned minutes later, holding a small plastic bag—the kind hospital's use for prescriptions. His expression was unreadable, his focus distant.

He approached me quickly, removing the IV from my arm before scooping me up in one swift motion.

“Are we going somewhere? I thought you went to get the doctor?” I asked, confused.

“He was busy. I got the meds instead,” Marcus replied curtly. “And yes, we're leaving.”

I frowned. “Leaving? What do you mean?” 

He nudged the door open with his foot, but I pushed it shut with my hand.

“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on.”

Marcus gaze locked onto mine, searching my face. After a long pause, he adjusted me in his arms and sighed.

“I'm sorry, Osborn,” he murmured. “I can't lose any more family.”

Before I could process his words, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against my mouth and nose.

The sickly-scent of chloroform hit me instantly. I thrashed and kicked, but his grip was ironclad. My vision blurred, and my strength faded.

 “I'm sorry,” Marcus whispered, lowering me gently to the floor.

I let my body go limp, feigning unconsciousness. Thinking I was out, Marcus removed the cloth and reached for me.

My eyes flew open. “Sorry,” I muttered, mustering the last of my strength to land a punch square on his jaw.

He staggered back, and I scrambled to my feet, leaning against the door handle for support. My head spun, but I forced myself to stay upright. Before I could escape, Marcus grabbed my arm, slammed me into the wall, and twisted it behind my back.

A gasp escaped my lips as the unmistakable weight of cold metal pressed into the small of my back.

“I'm sorry, Osborn, but you're coming with me whether you like it or not.”