Chapter 2

I shouted, "Edward, don't pretend you have no clue what they're really doing in this lab.

"If you don't let me out, you're going to regret this—I swear."

As soon as I finished, Julia piped up on the other end, her voice sickly sweet and laced with false concern. She whimpered, "Edward, it hurts so much. Please, save me."

I could picture her—scandalously dressed, curling herself around Edward like a temptress out of a gothic tale, leaving him breathless, his chest rising in short, heavy bursts.

Edward said, "Claire, you're the one who tampered with Julia's drink. No wonder I..."

Right after, I heard noises that made my skin crawl—moans and gasps I'd never imagined Edward would make, especially not with Julia.

At that moment, it felt like my heart plunged straight into an icy abyss.

The stuff they just shot into me was already kicking in—I could feel myself going stiff all over.

If I didn't get out of here now, I was really gonna die.

I stared desperately at the woman in the white lab coat and begged, "I'll cooperate, but I'm really not feeling well right now. Please, can I just go to the bathroom?"

The woman glanced at me with chilly indifference. She said, "Go ahead, I doubt you've got the guts to try anything."

With that, she unlocked my restraints without even looking at me.

Doubling over from the pain, I dragged myself into the lab's bathroom, every movement agony.

I remembered there was an emergency alarm hidden in this place—one press and it would alert Edward right in his study. If I hit it, the secret passage between the lab and his room would swing open.

Edward had specially set this up for me, just in case things ever went south.

Heart pounding, I slapped my hand down on the bathroom alarm.

But instead of the secret passage opening as I expected, my phone lit up with a video message.

It was from Julia.

In the video, red marks covered her skin as she flaunted my pajamas, giving me a triumphant grin.

She said, "Claire, stop struggling. That secret passage has been blocked for a long time. It won't open.

"You want to know why the passage is blocked, right? Fine, I'll tell you. I told Edward I loved this room and wanted to spend the night here with him, so he made it our little haven."

With that, she turned her phone to show off the background.

It was indeed the old study, only now crammed with all sorts of bizarre gadgets—and right in the middle stood a huge bed, a bell swaying overhead.

That bell was the emergency signal Edward and I had set up.

Julia said, "Claire, go to hell. From now on, Edward belongs to me and me alone."

On the screen, her once gentle features warped into a mask of cruelty.

She was nothing like the postpartum depression patient I'd imagined—nothing whatsoever.

I'd already warned Edward that something was seriously wrong with Julia.

But whenever I brought it up, he always chose to defend her.

He said his brother sacrificed his life to save him, so he was determined to care for Julia, no matter what.

I never expected that Edward would block off even my last escape route for Julia.

He used to say, since I spent all my time buried in experiments, getting in and out of the lab was a hassle once the main doors closed. So he specially created this secret passage just for me.

But now, even that one final glimmer of hope had vanished.

I clutched my phone in despair, tears streaming down my face.

My gaze drifted toward the bathroom mirror.

Suddenly, I remembered—there was still one last glimmer of hope hidden behind that mirror.

I smashed the mirror with my phone, and behind it, in a hidden nook, I found a lighter tucked away.

Open flames were strictly off-limits in the lab, so one'd never find a lighter in here.

But when the lab was first built, I'd secretly stashed this one, fearing something might go wrong one day—just in case.

Who would've thought I'd really end up needing it?

With the lighter in hand, I grabbed some flammable trash from the bin. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I stood on the toilet lid and held the trash up near the smoke detector.

As the smoke billowed up, the alarm blared, and the sprinklers burst to life.

Outside, hurried footsteps echoed, and people kept asking, anxious and confused.

One shouted, "What's happening? How did a fire break out?"

Another yelled, "Move it. If this blows up, we're screwed."

This was my moment. If I could slip out of the lab now and get to the hospital in time, maybe there was still hope for me.

Dashing out of the bathroom, I merged into the frantic crowd, fighting my way toward freedom alongside everyone else.

The lab doors were right there, just a few steps away.

But my stomach felt like it was being torn apart, and my arms and legs had stiffened even worse than before. I was so close—almost tasting freedom.

Suddenly, a shadow blocked my path. I glanced up. It was Julia, her eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction.

She said to a man, "Mr. Smith, you can relax. It's nothing serious—just a false alarm.

"I heard you guys are close to a breakthrough, just need a test subject. Well, isn't there one standing right here?"

Standing at the entrance, the lab director, Robert, gave me a quick look.

He hesitated and said, "But what about Mr. Harris?"

Julia said, "Mr. Smith, don't forget—it was Mr. Harris who handed her over for our bioengineering project. He wanted her to be our experiment."

Robert nodded.

He said, "You are right, Ms. Evans. We're just one step away from cracking this experiment. If we pull this off, the Nobel Prize will be within reach."

He then turned to his men and ordered, "Take her back."