Chapter 410
Chapter 410:
“Sir, if she dies p>
Lucian turned his cold gaze on the doctor. “She won’t die. Go in. Give her the injection. But nothing else. No comfort. No blankets. Let her understand that her survival depends entirely on my generosity p>
The doctor hurried out.
Inside the cell, the lock buzzed. The heavy door groaned open. Skye squinted against the sudden intrusion of light from the hallway. The doctor entered, flanked by a guard. He carried a medical kit.
“Stay back,” Skye croaked, trying to push herself tighter against the wall.
“I’m here to help, Ms. Sterling,” the doctor said, his voice trembling slightly. He moved quickly, swabbing her arm.
Skye didn’t have the strength to fight. She felt the prick of the needle.
“Antibiotics,” the doctor whispered hurriedly. “And something to stabilize your temperature p>
As he packed up, Skye’s eyes landed on the small metal tray he had set on the cot. A paperclip held a stack of gauze pads together.
While the doctor turned to hand the used syringe to the guard, Skye’s hand moved. It was a blur of motion, driven by pure instinct. She snatched the paperclip and slid it under her tongue. The metal tasted sharp.
“Rest,” the doctor said.
They left. Darkness returned.
Skye waited until her heart rate slowed. Then she spat the paperclip into her hand. It wasn’t a key. It couldn’t open an electronic lock. But it was a tool. A weapon. A lock pick for handcuffs, if the opportunity arose.
She looked at the mirror. She knew Lucian was there.
She needed to change the game. Resistance was getting her nowhere but deeper into sickness. She needed to pivot.
Information warfare, she thought. If I can’t break out, I need to break in.
She dragged herself off the cot and stumbled to the mirror, legs shaking. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass. She let the tears come. It wasn’t hard; the pain and fear were real enough. Her shoulders heaved. She slid down the glass, collapsing onto the floor in a heap of misery.
R𝗈𝗆а𝗇𝘤𝘦 n𝗈𝘷e𝗅s oո 𝗯𝗲.сo𝘮
“Please,” she whimpered, loud enough for the hidden microphones to catch. “I can’t… I can’t breathe in here. Please p>
In the observation room, Lucian smiled. He took a slow drag from his cigar.
“Finally p>
“Sir?” the guard asked.
“She’s breaking,” Lucian said with satisfaction. “The ice queen is melting p>
The shower was hot—scalding—but Skye stood under the spray until her skin turned pink. She scrubbed the salt and grime from her body, washing away the ocean’s physical remnants, but the sensation of Lucian’s eyes on her wouldn’t fade. She knew there were no cameras in the stall; Lucian preferred the psychological domination of the room. Still, the bathroom door had no lock.
She dried off and looked at the clothes laid out on the vanity. It wasn’t a prisoner’s jumpsuit. It was a dress: a sheer white chiffon gown that looked more like lingerie than clothing.
Beside it lay a diamond choker.
A collar, she realized. He wants to dress his doll.
Bile rose in her throat. Every instinct screamed at her to rip the dress to shreds. But she remembered the cold metal of the brig. She remembered the silence.
Message from Noa: Friday is here, dear readers! Have a great time. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. (ɔO‿=)ɔ ♥