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Chapter 493
Chapter 493:
“I don’t care!” Richard roared. He leaped out of the chair and stormed across the room.
He raised his hand and slapped Alycia across the face with full force.
The sharp crack echoed through the room. Alycia cried out and stumbled backward, hitting the floor hard. She clutched her burning cheek and stared up at her father in absolute disbelief.
“You stupid, useless girl!” Richard screamed, his face purple with rage. “If we go bankrupt, you go back to being nothing! You lose the cars, the clothes, the trust fund — you will be living on the street p>
He thrust a shaking finger at her stomach.
𝗪𝖾𝖾𝗄l𝘺 𝗿𝘦𝗹𝖾a𝘴𝗲ѕ o𝗻
“You are carrying his child! That is the only leverage we have left in this world!” he spat. “You go down to that building, you get on your knees, and you beg him to stop. Do whatever it takes p>
Alycia sat on the floor, her cheek burning. She looked at the raw madness in her parents’ eyes and understood, with terrible clarity, that they would sacrifice her without hesitation to save their money.
Panic clawed at her throat. She knew the pregnancy was a fabricated lie, chemically induced and carefully maintained. But it was the only shield she had left.
She pushed herself slowly up from the floor. Her eyes hardened into something desperate and calculating.
She smoothed down her maternity dress. She picked up her designer handbag.
“Fine,” Alycia said, her voice low and tight. “I will go p>
She turned and walked toward the back exit to avoid the FBI agents at the front gates, preparing to play the most dangerous and pathetic gamble of her life.
The wind howling through the concrete canyons of Wall Street was brutal, carrying the bitter chill of a looming New York winter.
Alycia stood on the sidewalk outside the towering glass monolith of the Compton Group headquarters, shivering violently. Her expensive cashmere maternity dress was completely inadequate for the freezing temperature, and her designer heels offered no protection against the cold concrete beneath her feet.
She walked up to the massive revolving doors, pulled her black VIP access card from her purse, and swiped it against the security scanner.
A harsh red light flashed. The screen read: ACCESS DENIED. CLEARANCE REVOKED.
Alycia tapped the card again, harder. The red light flashed again.
Two massive security guards in sharp black suits stepped out from the lobby and positioned themselves directly in front of the doors, physically blocking her path.
“Excuse me,” Alycia said, forcing a haughty, demanding tone into her trembling voice. “My card is malfunctioning. I need to go up to the penthouse office. I am Cole Compton’s fiancée p>
The lead guard looked down at her with stony, absolute indifference.
“Your access has been permanently terminated, Ms. Beasley,” he said, his voice flat and professional. “Mr. Compton has issued a strict directive. You are not permitted on the premises. Please step away from the building p>
A flush of pure humiliation burned Alycia’s cheeks. Pedestrians passing on the sidewalk had begun to stare.