Chapter 287

Vanessa pushed Evelyn out with desperate force.

A sharp pain exploded in Evelyn's head as something hard connected with her skull. Darkness swallowed her consciousness instantly.

Her awareness returned in fragments—the roar of a motorcycle engine, the wind whipping past her face, the rough hands dragging her into an unknown location.

Now, her wrists burned from the coarse ropes binding them. No matter how fiercely she twisted, the knots held firm.

Then—cold steel kissed her throat.

A shudder wracked her body as the blade's edge pressed deeper.

"Stop squirming," a gravelly voice warned. "Those ropes aren't coming loose."

The man's face was swallowed by shadows, only the cruel curve of his mouth visible in the dim light.

Evelyn forced her voice steady. "Who are you? What do you want?"

Moonlight sliced through the room, painting jagged silver lines across the concrete floor.

It illuminated just enough to reveal the madness glittering in his eyes.

His grin widened. "You'll find out soon enough."

The knife trailed lower, hovering above her racing pulse.

Evelyn's breath hitched.

Somewhere in the darkness, a second set of footsteps approached.

The blade didn't waver.

But the new arrival made the man stiffen.

Evelyn's captor turned his head slightly. "You're early."

A familiar female voice answered. "Change of plans."

Recognition struck Evelyn like lightning.

She knew that voice.

And if its owner was here—

This wasn't a random kidnapping.

This was revenge.

His cold gaze pierced through me.

"You're asking the wrong question, sweetheart. The real question is—how many breaths do you have left?"

As he spoke, Evelyn followed his smirk to the blinking red numbers counting down in the shadows.

"That's...an explosive device?"

Her blood turned to ice.

The man's grin widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "Happy holidays, gorgeous. You've got eight minutes and forty-two seconds before this building becomes your funeral pyre. I'd say my goodbyes now."

He tilted his head, the knife glinting as he withdrew it from her throat. "Though honestly? Watching lovers die together is my favorite Christmas tradition. Enjoy the fireworks."

With that, he vanished into the crumbling hallway, his laughter echoing off the rusted pipes.

Alone.

The word hammered against Evelyn's ribs as the timer's electronic pulse filled the derelict warehouse. Each tick vibrated through the cracked concrete beneath her knees.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

Then—

A metallic clang from the upper catwalk.

Evelyn's head snapped up.

The timer read 07:15.

"Think," she hissed through clenched teeth. Her bound wrists burned against the zip ties. "Alexander would never—"

Another sound. Closer this time.

Not just the building settling.

Someone was still here.

The realization hit like a bucket of gasoline—this wasn't just an execution.

It was a show.

And she was the main act.

07:02.

Evelyn Carter had six minutes to rewrite the ending.

"I need to get out of here."

Evelyn's pulse hammered in her throat as the man's footsteps retreated.

She didn’t waste a second.

With a sharp inhale, she twisted her body and rolled toward the building’s edge, her muscles screaming in protest.

"Help! Someone—please!" Her voice tore through the air, raw and desperate.

The wind whipped around her, the dizzying height making her stomach lurch.

But she had no choice.

Alexander had to be close.

Why else would the man taunt her with words like "death match" and "lover"?

She needed him to hear her. To find her before it was too late.

Then—

Footsteps.

Her breath hitched as the man reappeared, his expression darkening.

Annoyance flickered in his gaze, followed by something almost like pity.

Before she could scream again, he shoved a cloth into her mouth, silencing her.

"Save your strength, sweetheart," he murmured, tightening the gag. "A quiet death is more dignified, don’t you think?"

Satisfied she couldn’t make another sound, he turned and vanished.

Leaving her alone.

With nothing but the relentless ticking of time.

The interior of the car fell into a heavy silence as Vanessa froze.

Her pulse spiked.

Was that Evelyn's voice? It had sounded so close—too close.

Her sharp eyes darted toward a towering high-rise, scanning the darkened windows. Then she saw it—a flash of white fabric fluttering wildly against the night sky.

The wind carried it like a ghostly whisper.

Vanessa's breath hitched.

That scarf—she recognized it instantly. Evelyn had been wearing it earlier.

Without another thought, Vanessa shoved the car door open and stepped out, her movements deliberate but cautious as she approached the building.

Then she heard it.

A rhythmic, mechanical ticking.

Her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk.

A bomb.

A thrill shot through her.

She might not even need to lift a finger. If Evelyn was trapped inside with no one coming to save her... well, fate would take care of the rest.

Vanessa pulled out her radio, her voice urgent but controlled.

"Ethan," she hissed, "I just saw Alexander rescue Evelyn! You need to get back here—now. The whole place is rigged to blow! We have to move!"

A sharp noise cut through the darkness.

Vanessa stiffened.

"Who's there?"

Footsteps echoed from the upper floors—the man who had taken Evelyn was descending. At the sound of the radio crackling to life, his body stiffened, fingers tightening around the gun in his grip.

Vanessa nearly leapt out of her skin at the sharp command that followed.

That voice.

It was him—the same man who had dragged Evelyn away.

A cold wave of terror crashed over her, prickling her skin like a thousand needles. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she forced herself to stay still, pressing deeper into the shadows of the corner.

She held her breath, willing herself invisible.

Then, the radio spat out Ethan’s reply. "Understood. Returning now."

Vanessa’s stomach dropped.

They knew.

She’d been found.