Chapter 192
Chapter 192:
She reached into her designer handbag and produced a tiny transparent glass vial filled with a clear, odorless liquid. She held it between two fingers, close to Abbie’s face.
“This is a highly potent black-market hallucinogen,” Alycia said, her voice dropping to a low, vicious murmur. “A few drops will reduce even the most composed woman to a desperate, incoherent mess. It’s a custom compound — completely untraceable on standard toxicology screens p>
She tilted the vial slightly. “Put this in June Erickson’s water cup p>
Abbie recoiled, pressing herself hard against the car door, shaking her head. “No. That is a felony. If I’m caught, I go to prison p>
Alycia picked up her phone and brought her thumb to the screen. “Then I press send right now, and these photographs get broadcast to every screen in your mother’s nursing home.” She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with pure, deliberate cruelty. “Do you think your mother, with her severe manic depression, survives something like that? Do you think she jumps before or after dinner p>
The words hit Abbie like a bullet to the chest.
Her mother was her only family. Her only real weakness, and Alycia had always known exactly where to aim.
Abbie’s resistance collapsed entirely. She buried her face in her hands and let out a raw, agonizing sob.
Th𝗲 𝖻𝗲𝘀𝘵 r𝘦𝘢𝘥i𝗻𝗴 𝘦x𝗉𝘦𝗋𝗂𝘦𝗻c𝖾 o𝗇
“June has been so good to me,” she wept, her voice torn apart by the conflict raging inside her. “She just promised to help me with the medical bills. I can’t do this to her p>
Alycia’s expression flashed with fury. She reached out and seized a handful of Abbie’s hair, wrenching her head back.
“She is good to you?” she hissed, her face inches away. “She is throwing pennies at a beggar to feel better about herself p>
She tightened her grip.
“You have exactly two choices. Either June’s reputation gets destroyed, or you and your mother go straight to hell. Choose p>
The interior of the car went completely silent. The only sound was Abbie’s ragged, shallow breathing.
After a long, unbearable minute, Abbie slowly extended her shaking hand.
Her fingers closed around the cold glass vial. It felt like holding a live grenade.
Alycia smiled with quiet satisfaction and released her hair, settling back against the leather seat.
“Tomorrow night is the company celebration gala. That is your window,” Alycia said. “Get it done, and the negatives are yours p>
Abbie clutched the vial so tightly her fingernails broke through her bandage. Fresh blood seeped into the white gauze.
“Don’t try anything clever,” Alycia added, her voice dropping into a final, lethal warning. “I have people watching you — in the lab and at the gala p>
Abbie shoved the door open and stumbled out into the cold, empty garage. She leaned against a concrete pillar, staring down at the vial in her palm, feeling something dark and irreversible close over her.
Inside the Range Rover, Alycia raised her phone and dialed an unsaved number.