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Chapter 497

Chapter 497:

“I have nothing,” Skye choked out, tears streaming from her eyes from the ammonia fumes, “except a chemical burn thanks to your incompetence p>

Amy lunged at her, intending to tear the dress apart, but Kael shoved her back. “Back off, Amy. If you touch the merchandise, Graves will skin you p>

He dragged Skye into Lucian’s office and threw her onto the leather sofa.

“Stay,” he ordered. “I’m getting the boss p>

He slammed the door, locking it from the outside. Skye was alone.

She immediately tapped the tiny device in her ear. Static. Then, a voice—a voice that made her knees weak.

“Skye p>

Alistair.

“Don’t speak.” Alistair’s voice was calm, steady, the anchor in her storm. “We are in the tunnels. Midnight. Service Elevator 4. Sub-Level 3. You need a key p>

Skye touched her neck, where the black card was hidden.

“I have it,” she whispered to the empty room.

“Good girl,” Alistair said. “Survive for forty-five minutes. I’m coming for you p>

The connection clicked off.

Skye leaned back on the sofa, her heart thundering like a war drum against her ribs. Midnight. Sub-Level 3.

She checked the clock on the wall. 11:15 PM.

Forty-five minutes. It sounded like a lifetime.

The door handle turned.

Lucian didn’t walk into the office; he stormed in. He reeked of bourbon and ozone.

He stopped in front of her, staring down with eyes like black holes.

“Where did you go?” he asked softly. Too softly.

“I got lost,” Skye said, lifting her chin. “Your casino is a maze p>

“You were in the viewing box,” Lucian said. “King says you were drunk. Kael says you were trying to run p>

“King is a liar and Kael is a brute,” Skye shrugged. “I needed a drink. You locked me in a glass cage, Lucian. What did you expect p>

𝗜𝘯ѕtan𝗍 𝖺c𝘤𝗲s𝘀 𝘰𝗇 𝗯𝗲.с𝗈𝗆

Lucian laughed. He grabbed a vase from the desk and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

“I expect obedience!” he roared. “I expect gratitude p>

He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back. “You think I don’t know you, Skye? You’re plotting. You’re always plotting p>

“I’m surviving,” Skye hissed.

“Let’s go home,” Lucian said abruptly, releasing her. “I’m tired of this game p>

“Home?” Skye asked. “To the villa p>

“Yes p>

Skye’s heart plummeted. If they went back to the villa, she would be miles away from the casino at midnight. She would miss the rendezvous. She would miss Alistair.

“No,” she said.

Lucian stopped. “No p>

“I… I want to play,” Skye said desperately. “One more hand. Please. I feel lucky p>

“Your luck has run out,” Lucian said. He dragged her out of the office.

They took the private elevator down to the garage. Skye’s mind raced. How could she stop him? How could she stall?

As they exited the elevator into the VIP garage, a convoy of cars screeched to a halt in front of them. The doors of the lead limousine flew open.