If you are looking for While I Was Bleeding Out He Lit Lanterns For Her Chapter 1 read online…
Chapter 425
Chapter 425:
Her heart hammered in her chest. She was terrified, but her greed pushed her forward. She convinced herself that Eleanor was coming to negotiate — that her media trap had worked.
She scrambled out of bed, forced herself into a perfectly tailored Chanel suit, and slipped her feet into four-inch Louboutin heels. She checked her makeup carefully, making sure she looked precisely like a wealthy, radiant mother-to-be.
Flanked by her two security guards, Alycia rode the elevator down to the lobby and walked out through the sliding glass doors just as the Lincoln Continental rolled to a smooth stop beneath the awning.
She pasted a flawless, welcoming smile onto her face and stepped forward to greet the car.
The doors of the lead and trailing Escalades burst open simultaneously. Eight men in dark suits and earpieces stepped out, moving with swift, practiced efficiency to form a solid, impenetrable wall around the Lincoln.
One of them reached out and pulled the heavy rear door open.
No one stepped out.
The interior of the car was dark. Alycia could just barely make out the silhouette of Eleanor Compton sitting rigidly in the back seat.
Alycia took another step forward, her smile widening.
Two guards immediately moved into her path, raising their hands and pressing their palms flat outward in a firm, wordless barrier.
Addictive novels on.com
Alycia’s smile froze.
She stared at the open door. She stared at the dark figure inside.
The realization landed like a physical blow to the stomach.
Eleanor was not going to invite her inside. She was not even going to step out onto the pavement. She was forcing Alycia to stand on bare concrete, surrounded by staring paparazzi and hospital staff, like a petitioner begging for an audience she had not been granted.
A hot wave of pure humiliation burned up Alycia’s face, turning her skin a dark, mottled red. Her carefully constructed image of elegance shattered on the spot. She felt the eyes of the crowd pressing into her back like needles.
From the darkness inside the car, Eleanor’s voice drifted out at last. It was impossibly quiet, and carried a freezing, lethal edge that cut through the noise of the street.
“Miss Beasley,” Eleanor said smoothly. “It appears you were dissatisfied with the quiet accommodations I provided for you p>
The sarcasm landed like a slap. It stripped the facade off Alycia’s media stunt in a single sentence.
Alycia swallowed hard. Her throat felt like sandpaper.
“Mrs. Compton,” she stammered, fighting desperately to hold her composure. “I don’t know what you mean. The press simply found out p>
Eleanor let out a short, dismissive scoff.
She did not say another word. She simply sat in the darkness, her gaze resting on Alycia through the rearview mirror.
The silence stretched out. It was agonizing.
Every second that passed was a deliberate, calculated act of cruelty. Alycia’s heels felt like instruments of torture. Her legs had begun to tremble.
She was being crushed by the full, suffocating weight of old money and class power. The Lincoln Continental was a physical boundary she would never, in Eleanor’s eyes, be permitted to cross.