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Chapter 758:
Alicia’s hands curled into fists at her sides. Hatred burned through her like acid—hatred for Richard, hatred for Lexi, but most of all, hatred for June Powell.
This was all her fault. Every last bit of it.
She fumbled in her designer bag and pulled out her phone, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold it. She dialed the number of her independent trust fund manager.
It rang ten times before he picked up.
“Mr. Carter,” she gasped. “I need ten thousand dollars in cash. Right now. Wire it to my account p>
“Ms. Beasley,” the manager said, his voice cold and completely detached. “I’m afraid that’s not possible p>
“What do you mean it’s not possible? That’s my money p>
“Thirty minutes ago, Compton Capital filed a full freeze order with the court,” he said. “All of your assets have been seized. Your trust fund. Your credit cards. Your Porsche. Everything. You have exactly one hundred and twenty-seven dollars and thirty-two cents in your checking account p>
Alicia’s phone slipped from her hand.
ոо𝗏𝘦𝗅s 𝗶ո 𝘵𝘳𝘦n𝘥 𝗼𝗻 ѕ.𝖼𝗼𝗺
It hit the puddle at her feet with a splash. The screen cracked, then went black.
She stared down at it.
And then she laughed. A high, hysterical laugh that dissolved into sobs.
Her name. Her money. Her status. Her home. Her father. Everything she had ever had. Everything she had ever been.
Gone. In the blink of an eye.
An ambulance screamed past her, sirens wailing, and threw a wave of muddy water across her legs.
Alicia didn’t flinch. She just stood there in the middle of the road, in the pouring rain, and laughed until she couldn’t breathe.
The ambulance pulled up to the VIP entrance of Presbyterian Hospital. Cole’s Maybach skidded to a stop right behind it. The doors flew open, and a team of doctors and nurses rushed out with a gurney.
Cole stepped out and carried June inside, his boots thudding against the marble floor. He laid her down gently on the gurney, brushing the wet hair from her face.
Her skin was a sickly gray. Her lips were blue. The thermometer read 104.7 degrees Fahrenheit.
The head of emergency medicine paled when he saw her.
“Get her into OR 3!” he called out. “Broad-spectrum antibiotics, stat. Prep the cooling blankets p>
The nurses pushed the gurney down the hallway. Cole moved to follow, but two large orderlies stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“I’m sorry, sir,” one of them said. “No one is allowed in the OR p>
The red light above the door flickered on.
Cole stared at it as though it were a knife lodged in his chest.
He began to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, like a caged animal. His suit was soaked through. His leather shoes left muddy prints on the shining tile floor, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t care.
All he could see was June’s face. Pale. Still.
All he could hear was her voice, screaming at the cemetery. Screaming that he had killed Caleb. Screaming that she hated him.