Chapter 394
Chapter 394:
Liam paced behind her, his cane tapping frantically against the floorboards. He sounded frantic, a man trying to fix a shattered vase with Scotch tape.
“I’ll pay for everything,” he said. “I’ll get a crew in. We can sue her. I’ll help you p>
Skye felt the room spin. The violation of her workspace felt like a physical assault. This was supposed to be the one place Beatrice couldn’t reach.
Her grip on the windowsill slipped.
“Skye p>
She felt her knees give way. Gravity took over, pulling her down into the wreckage.
She heard Liam shout her name. She sensed his movement—a desperate lunge to catch her—but his injured leg buckled, slowing him down.
Before she could hit the floor, a thunderous crash echoed from the main entrance.
The heavy glass doors didn’t just open; they shattered inward as if hit by a battering ram.
Skye was falling, but she didn’t hit the floor. She didn’t hit Liam. She hit a wall of solid muscle.
Arms wrapped around her. Strong. Immovable. They smelled of tobacco, mint, and cold rain. Skye looked up, her vision tunneling.
Alistair Thorne.
He held her against his chest, his face a mask of terrifying calm. His eyes were dark voids that absorbed all the light in the room. Behind him, three members of his security team filled the hallway, weapons not drawn but clearly ready. Felix was there too, looking disheveled, a bruise forming on his jaw, holding a tablet that was actively streaming data.
“The perimeter was breached from the inside,” Felix reported, his voice tight with professional shame. “Mrs. Chandler bought the shift supervisor. He’s been… detained p>
Liam froze mid-reach. His hands were empty. He stared at Alistair, his mouth opening and closing in shock.
“Put her down,” Liam demanded, though his voice lacked any real authority against the sheer presence of the other man.
Alistair ignored him completely. He shifted Skye effortlessly, scooping her up into a bridal carry. He looked around the destroyed office, his gaze lingering on the torn cables and broken glass.
“This building is compromised,” Alistair said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against Skye’s ear. “If they can buy the guards, you aren’t safe here p>
“She’s my wife,” Liam blurted. “Ex-wife. She’s my responsibility p>
𝖠𝗱𝘥𝘪с𝘵𝗂𝘷𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘃e𝗹ѕ o𝘯 b𝖾lո𝗈𝘃𝘦𝗅s.𝖼o𝗺
Alistair stepped forward. He used his shoulder to check Liam—a hard, physical shove that sent Liam stumbling back into the wall, his cane skittering across the floor.
“You let this happen,” Alistair whispered. The accusation hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Liam flinched. The truth of it hit him harder than the physical blow. He slumped against the wall, defeated.
Alistair walked out. His men formed a protective phalanx around him as they moved to the elevator.
The doors closed, shutting out the sight of Liam’s pale, furious face.
Inside the small metal box, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The cold rage dropped from Alistair’s face, replaced by a raw, naked panic.
“Skye?” He looked down at her.
She was conscious, but barely. Her head rested against his shoulder.
“I’m okay,” she murmured, though her voice was slurring.
Alistair shifted his grip, holding her tighter. He noticed the red marks beginning to form on her wrist where she had gripped the table. His jaw tightened until a vein throbbed in his temple.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
He reached up with one hand, stroking the hair back from her forehead. His touch was impossibly gentle, a stark contrast to the violence he had just threatened.
The elevator dinged at the garage level.