Chapter 220

Julie’s POV

I jolted awake from the bed as if a violent electric current had surged through me. I remembered the club. I remembered Robert.

A sharp pang of anxiety gnawed at my chest how could I stay here while he knew nothing of my whereabouts? I began pacing the room, my hands trembling as I tried to find a way to contact him, but I didn’t have his number or any other means.

Suddenly, I thought of my father. Surely, he had some link to him. I rushed out of the room. He had already given up on any response from my mother; he had left her locked door and headed to the living room, where he sat drinking alcohol with a desperate greed.

I stood before him, my voice shaking. "Dad, do you have Robert’s number?"

He looked at me with glazed eyes and replied coldly, "No, I don’t."

I clenched my fists. "I need to speak with him. It’s urgent."

He set his glass on the table, eyeing me with suspicion. "Did he allow you to leave?"

I stepped closer, deciding to bargain. "Dad, help me reach him, and I promise I’ll tell you everything."

He sighed, slowly pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling through it. "I don’t have his number, but I have his father’s."

My eyes widened. "His father’s?"

"Yes," he replied, tapping the screen. He handed me the phone, the numbers glowing on the display, and added with a tone of impending interrogation, "Once you’re done, I want to know exactly what happened."

I never expected to speak to that man again. The last time we met, I had punched him and hurled the vilest insults at him, yet here he was, acting like a protective father... What is happening? How did everything flip like this?

I snatched the phone and retreated to my room, locking the door behind me. My breath hitched as I dialed. It rang for a long time before someone picked up. "Hello... Mr. Thomas?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Who is this? This is Stewart’s number," he replied, sounding puzzled.

"It’s Julie, your son’s personal assistant," I said, trying to be brief.

"Julie? Why are you calling from Stewart’s phone?"

"Listen, Mr. Thomas, I need Robert’s number immediately."

"Why?" he asked sharply.

"I was kidnapped today," the words poured out of me like a flood. "A man saved me, but I’m afraid Robert is out there looking for me. He needs to know I’m home."

"What?!" he shouted in shock.

"Yes! Please, let him know I’m at my parents’ house."

"Fine, I’ll tell him myself," he said curtly and hung up.

I couldn’t wait another second. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in on me. I had to go to Robert. I quietly put my father’s phone back and slipped out like a thief, sneaking through the front door into the street.

I began to run with all my might, my heart pounding against my ribs, until I spotted a taxi. I hailed it and climbed in, gasping for air.

I gave the driver the restaurant’s address and begged him to hurry. I was drowning in fear of Robert’s reaction... would he be angry? Would he punish me for leaving the club without permission?

When I arrived at the restaurant, as usual, I didn’t have a single cent. I asked the guard at the entrance to pay the fare and rushed inside. The restaurant was buzzing with customers, jazz music filling the air with a frantic energy. As I was about to descend the stairs to push through the crowd, a hand like iron clamped onto my arm with a force that made me wince.

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Don Morgan’s POV

I watched her from behind the tinted glass, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I wanted to see how far this lie would go.

It turned out I wasn’t the only one skilled in deception; she, too, played her part with a convincing grace that fueled my irritation. Did she really have the nerve to knock on that door and face the father who sold her like cattle?

When the door opened, I saw her... "Meredith." A surge of raw fury shook me.

I felt a primal urge to storm out of the car and confront her with every word I’d choked back for years, but I forced myself to stay. I saw Julie throw herself into her arms, and then Stewart emerged the man who hadn’t changed a bit.

I closed my eyes, slamming my hand against the wheel. Why did I bring her back here? Isn’t she Robert’s property now my enemy’s pet? Wasn’t I supposed to imprison her? I should have made Robert suffer.

I should have convinced him I was torturing her, that my men were raping her without mercy. Knowing she was Meredith’s daughter should have been enough to make me loathe her, to use her as a cheap tool for my vengeance.

But why? Why did this girl stir a strange, fierce protective instinct in me? Why did I feel a lump in my throat and a desire to wrap her in my arms and give her the entire world?

I drove away, my thoughts eating me alive. Nothing I was doing made sense. I had thrown away my winning card the one that would have charred Robert’s heart. And one question echoed in my mind like a maddening ghost: Why did Meredith and Stewart sell their own daughter? It made no sense.

If that girl were mine, I would have burned the world to ashes for her. How could they sell her so easily?

Suddenly, my phone rang, cutting through the chaos of my thoughts. I snatched it up. "Yes?" I barked.

The voice of one of my men came through, trembling and frantic. "He’s dead, sir... he’s dead!"

My features contorted, and I gripped the phone with a deadly force. "Who is dead?!" I roared.