Chapter 898
Liam jerked awake and blinked, rubbing his eyes. “Skye?”
“I know about the shell companies,” Skye said. “I ran a trace on the acquisition funds for the Tech Park. You bought the debt weeks ago. You were planning this takeover before Lucian was even shot.”
Liam sat up and straightened his tie. The mask slid back into place. “I was hedging my bets. Lucian was overleveraged.”
“You’re lying,” Skye said. “You bought the debt to protect it — to keep Arthur from getting it. I saw the transfer logs, Liam. The money originated from your personal trust, not the corporate account. You put your own fortune on the line.”
Liam paused. He looked at her — really looked at her. A flicker of relief passed through his eyes before he crushed it. “You’re smarter than you look.”
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“Stop playing games!” Skye shouted. “Why are you pretending to be the villain? Is someone listening? Is it the Architect?”
“The Architect is gone,” Liam said, rising from the couch. “This is me, Skye. This is who I have to be to survive in this city.”
“Then I don’t want to know you,” Skye said, her voice breaking slightly. She knew he was lying. She also knew he wouldn’t break character. Not here.
“Then leave,” Liam said softly.
“I will,” Skye turned toward the door. “But first — tell me where Celeste is.”
Liam went still. “Celeste? What do you mean?”
“She broke out of St. Jude’s,” Skye said. “She disappeared. Did you take her, Liam? Is she another asset you decided to secure?”
Genuine fear crossed Liam’s face — unguarded, unplanned. “She escaped? Skye, you need to be careful. If Celeste is loose —”
“I can handle Celeste,” Skye snapped. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
She walked out.
Liam waited until the sound of her heels faded, then grabbed his phone.
“She’s out,” he said. “Celeste Cain is in the wind. Find her. And double the security on Skye. If anything happens to her, I will burn this city down.”
Back at the hospital, Alistair was peeling an apple with a pocket knife, the skin coming off in one long, perfect spiral.
Lucian’s finger twitched.
Alistair stopped. He leaned forward. “Lucian?”
Lucian’s eyes opened — glassy, swimming with pain and sedation. He tried to speak, but only a dry, rattling wheeze escaped.
“Don’t try to talk,” Alistair said softly, bringing the water cup to Lucian’s lips. “Just blink. Once for yes, twice for no.”
Lucian took a sip, his throat working. He blinked once.
“Skye?” Lucian mouthed, the sound barely a breath.
“She’s terrorizing Liam,” Alistair said, a thin smile crossing his lips. “She’s fine.”
Lucian’s hand moved weakly on the sheet, his fingers tracing a shape — a gun. Then he pointed to his own chest.
“The sniper,” Alistair said. “You saw him?”
One blink.
“Did you recognize him?”
Two blinks. No.
Lucian closed his eyes to gather strength. He tapped his chest again, then held his thumb and forefinger a hair’s width apart.