Chapter 378
Chapter 378:
“It’s a cage,” Alistair argued. “You’ll be trapped in there with Liam p>
“It’s a shield,” Skye corrected. “And it’s a platform. I’m going back p>
Julian stared at her for a long moment. Then he glanced down at his phone. A text message had just come through.
Body confirmed. Police ruling as suicide. Case closed.
Julian looked up at Skye. He didn’t speak. He just nodded.
The game had changed. It wasn’t about business anymore.
It was about survival.
The morning news was chirpy, a stark contrast to the darkness clinging to Skye’s mind. The anchorwoman, wearing a bright yellow blazer, smiled as she read the teleprompter.
“Tragic news from the Dominion Hotel this morning. A young woman fell from a balcony in what authorities are calling accidental death. Police remind tourists to be careful on ledges p>
Skye stared at the television in the safe house kitchen. Her coffee had gone cold in her hands. Accidental. Graves owned the police. He owned the narrative. Daphne was just a footnote in his morning briefing.
She set the mug down with a clink that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.
“I’m leaving,” she announced.
Alistair was blocking the doorway before she could even pick up her bag. He wore a dark gray t-shirt stretched across his chest, arms crossed. He looked tired, the shadows beneath his eyes like bruises of worry.
“You need security,” he insisted. “Felix goes with you. Or Hunter p>
“I can’t take a private army to Oracle,” Skye said, adjusting the lapel of her fresh blazer. “I need to look normal. I need to look like I’m prepping for the next phase of the reality show, not a war p>
“You are in a war,” Alistair countered, stepping closer. “And you’re unarmed p>
“I have the gun in my bag,” she said, patting her purse. “And I have you watching the feeds p>
She tried to step around him. He caught her arm, not roughly, but with a desperation that made her chest ache.
“Skye,” he breathed. “If anything happens p>
“It won’t,” she lied.
𝗥𝖾аd𝗲𝗋 𝗰𝗼𝗆𝗆𝘶𝗻𝘪𝘁𝘺 оո 𝘣еlոо𝘃𝗲𝗅𝗌.c𝗈𝗺
She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his jaw. “I’ll be in the most public building in the city. Graves won’t strike there p>
She pulled away and walked out the door. Alistair watched her go, his jaw set. He lifted a hand and signaled toward the trees.
Felix emerged from the foliage, nodding once before slipping into a nondescript sedan to follow her.
The lobby of Oracle Holdings was usually a temple of minimalism—glass, steel, and cold, efficient silence. Today, it looked like a funeral parlor for a giant.
When Skye walked through the revolving doors, the scent hit her first. It was overwhelming—the thick, cloying smell of fresh roses.
She stopped dead.
The entire reception area was flooded with red. Thousands of them. Long-stemmed, velvet-petaled Baccarat roses filled every surface. Vases. Baskets. Piled on the floor. An ocean of crimson.
The receptionist, a young man named Kevin, peered over the top of a massive bouquet, eyes wide.
“Ms. Sterling,” he squeaked. “These… these arrived for you. All morning. Truckloads p>
Employees whispered in corners, phones out, snapping pictures. The rumor mill was already spinning. A secret admirer? A billionaire suitor? An apology?
Skye walked to the desk. A single black card nestled in the center arrangement, sealed in a heavy envelope marked PRIVATE.