005

The car slowed to a halt outside The Crudile Hotel, its grandeur a sharp reminder of the kind of man Desmond Linton was: wealthy, arrogant, and used to getting what he wanted. Before I could even gather my thoughts, Desmond stepped out of the car with a self-assured grace that made my stomach churn.

He turned briefly, leaning back into the car window, his expression that of disdain and amusement. “Wait here for fifteen minutes before coming up,” he ordered, his voice cold and dismissive. “I don’t want to be seen walking in with you. It’s bad for my image.”

My fists clenched in my lap, nails digging into my palms again. The humiliation burned hotter with every second. He didn’t even wait for a reply before turning to his driver. “Walk her in after the time’s up,” he added.

“Yes, sir,” the driver responded obediently, his tone full of respect and fear.

Desmond disappeared into the hotel without so much as a backward glance. I stared at his retreating figure, my anger bubbling over. My cheeks burned with shame, but it was the fury in my veins that made my hands tremble.

I lowered my head, teeth gritted so tightly I thought they might crack. “What kind of man is this?” I muttered under my breath. Desmond Linton wasn’t just a shameless pervert—he was the embodiment of everything wrong with the world. Exploiting the helpless, feeding off the desperation of others.

If I had a gun right now, I thought, staring at the sleek, black dashboard, I’d blow his arrogant head off.

But I didn’t have a gun, only a driver whose fearful eyes watched me from the rearview mirror. My curiosity got the better of me. I straightened, forcing some calm into my voice. “Excuse me, does Mr. Linton… does he have a wife?”

The driver hesitated before answering, his tone cautious. “No, ma’am. He’s not married. But he has a fiancée.”

I arched a brow, the revelation sparking a strange sense of pity and disgust. A fiancée? What kind of man betrays the person he’s supposed to love like this? “A fiancée?” I pressed. “Why aren’t they married yet? I mean, he’s rich enough to afford a wedding fit for royalty.”

The driver glanced back briefly, his face somber. “His fiancée had a terrible accident five months ago. She’s been in a coma since then.”

His words hung heavy in the air. A pang of pity hit me, not for Desmond but for this poor woman caught in the crossfire of his twisted world. My mind whirred with questions, but I kept my tone light, almost casual. “Do you know her? Her name?”

“Miss Erica Brown,” he replied. “Her parents... well, they committed suicide after some legal troubles. She was crossing the street in a daze when a car hit her. She hasn’t woken up since.”

Erica Brown. The name sent a shiver through me, dredging up memories I’d long buried. It couldn’t be the same Erica Brown—could it? The daughter of the fraudsters who had sold adulterated formula milk, the ones I’d helped the NYPD expose.

I swallowed hard, my mind swirling with thoughts. If this was the same Erica, then Desmond’s vendetta against me wasn’t just professional—it was deeply personal. All his humiliation of me seemed to have found a reasonable reason in an instant.

But then, an idea took root in my mind. A risky, dangerous idea that sent a thrill through me. Desmond wanted to degrade me, to see me squirm under his control. But what if I turned the tables? What if I told him the truth, knowing it would shatter him? He’d hate me so much, the very thought of touching me would repulse him.

A small, sinister smile tugged at the corners of my lips. But maybe, this is another chance for me to get the medicine.

The driver’s voice broke through my thoughts. “It’s been fifteen minutes, ma’am. Shall we go?”

I straightened, smoothing my dress and schooling my features into a mask of calm. “Yes, let’s go.”

With the driver leading the way, I strode into the hotel, my boots sliding against the marble floor. The confidence surging through me felt intoxicating, a sharp contrast to the despair I’d felt earlier.

We reached Desmond’s room, the driver knocking before opening the door. He stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. I walked in, my chin held high, my gaze locking onto Desmond’s the moment I saw him.

I could feel the change in his eyes as he looked at me. He noticed that I was no longer trembling and afraid. Seeing the dried tears in my eyes in contrast with the bold expression on my face, left him stunned.

Good. Let him wonder. Let him feel just a fraction of the unease he’d caused me.

As I stood there, the weight of my plan settled over me. This was my moment to reclaim the power he’d tried to strip from me. And I intended to savor every second of it.