Chapter 3

Two hours later, the door to my hospital room opened again.

I thought it was Helen, but instead, a stranger in a caregiver's uniform walked in.

"Ms. Clement, it's time to change your dressing," she said, pushing a cart over to my bed.

I watched her warily.

She leaned over, pretending to adjust my IV drip, and whispered in my ear, "Captain Blake sent me."

My heart started pounding.

"Someone is watching outside," she continued in a low voice. "Be ready at ten tonight."

Then, she spoke up loudly, "Your wound is healing nicely. Just make sure to keep it dry."

With that, she pushed the cart out of the room like nothing had happened.

I started counting down the hours.

Later that afternoon, Helen showed up again, this time with a whole bunch of doctors and lawyers.

"Ellie, you need to sign these documents," she said, handing me a stack of papers. "It's mostly for the handover at work and the transfer of the villa."

I glanced at the papers. She was really trying to finish me off while I was sick.

I shook my head, pointed to my throat, and then to my head, signaling that I had a headache and didn't want to look at them.

Helen frowned. "Just sign your name. It'll only take a minute."

I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.

"Whatever, we'll deal with it tomorrow." She finally gave in. "I've got something tonight, so the caregiver will look after you."

After she left, I quietly watched the hallway from the doorway.

A man in a black suit was sitting on a bench in the corridor, sneaking glances into my room every so often. That was Helen's lackey.

Every minute felt like forever. At 9:50, the lights in my room suddenly went out.

The bodyguard outside stood up and asked, "What's going on?"

Hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by a dull thud. Then the door was quietly pushed open.

"Ellie, it's me," Ryan said softly.

I never knew those words could sound so sweet.

Ryan rushed to my bedside, using the moonlight to check me over. "Can you walk?"

I shook my head. My whole body was battered. I couldn't move at all.

Without hesitation, Ryan scooped me up, wrapping the blanket around me as he did. "Hold on tight."

His chest was broad and warm, and I could smell a faint trace of gunpowder on him.

In the hallway, the bodyguard was sprawled out cold on the floor.

"The security cameras are taken care of," said a man in a lab coat, waiting by the elevator. "Come with me."

The man led us through the staff-only corridor, straight down to the underground parking lot. A nondescript gray van was parked there, barely noticeable.

Ryan gently settled me into the modified back seat.

"Head to the safehouse," Ryan told the driver.

The van rolled out of the hospital and melted into the night traffic of Kingston Bay.

Ryan turned and grabbed a medical kit from the van's trunk. "Let's take care of your wounds first."

He gently peeled back the bandage on my neck.

He drew in a sharp breath. "Those bastards..."

His fingers traced gently over the burn on my neck, and I flinched.

"Hang in there," he said, taking out some ointment and carefully applying it.

Every inch of my skin was hurting, but I toughed it out, biting back the pain.

After everything I'd survived so far, this was barely a blip.

"Ellie," Ryan spoke up suddenly, "you know who did this, don't you?"

I nodded.

"Can you tell me?" he asked.

I pointed to my phone, and he handed it over.

I typed in my notes: [Helen and Lucas. I overheard them talking.]

Ryan's gaze instantly sharpened, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.

"Just as I thought," Ryan sneered. "I found out those thugs were actually Lucas's bodyguards in disguise."

I kept typing: [They're scared I'll reunite with my real mom. Helen's real daughter is back, and she's pregnant with Lucas's kid.]

Ryan read my message, and then slammed his fist into the seat.

"I'm going to make them pay for this," Ryan growled, his voice so cold that it felt like it came straight from hell.

I grabbed his arm, shaking my head. Then I typed: [This is my revenge. I'll handle it myself.]

Ryan stared at me. The moonlight streamed through the window and illuminated my bandaged face.

"Alright," he finally said, "but I have one condition."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Let me help you," Ryan said, holding my hand. "Just like when we were little."

Suddenly, memories came rushing back. When I was kidnapped at ten, Ryan was the one who saved me.

He was only fourteen then, but he went after me alone and found me in that abandoned factory. He took a knife to the shoulder, but he still carried me out on his back.

I nodded.

The van pulled up to a nondescript small building on the outskirts of town.

"We've arrived," Ryan said. "This is a military safehouse—totally off the grid."

He carried me straight into a bedroom. "Get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

I tugged at his sleeve.

Ryan paused, glancing back at me. "Is there something else you need?"

I typed: [Is my real mom, Victoria Carter, safe?]

Ryan's expression turned complicated. "She's safe for now. The Bennett family wouldn't dare mess with the chairwoman of Carter Group."

He hesitated for a moment. "But..."

I looked at him anxiously.

"Ms. Carter has been looking for you," Ryan said. "Helen told her you went abroad to study."

My heart twisted painfully.

"Get some rest," Ryan said, gently squeezing my shoulder. "Tomorrow, I'll teach you how to hit back."

He closed the door as he left.

I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The wound on my chest burned fiercely, but the ache in my heart was so much worse.

Twenty years of mother-daughter relationship between Helen and me turned out to be an act.

All those promises of forever at the engagement party turned out to be nothing but a joke.

Only the scars covering my body were real.