Fake Date, Real Fate-Chapter 146: Her Silence, His Storm [V]

The door slammed open, breaking the stillness of the sterile room. The technician was shoved inside, still in handcuffs. But he wasn’t shaking.

The technician was younger than I expected.

Mid-twenties. Clean-cut. Wore a cheap polo that had the spa’s logo stitched over the chest, like that would buy him loyalty points.

Gray stood a comfortable distance away, arms folded, gaze sweeping over the man like a predator assessing prey.

I stepped up to the glass, taking in the dirty fingernails, the faded logo on his work shirt, the cheap watch on his wrist. "So, this is our professional saboteur," I murmured, more to myself than to Cameron.

"He’s the one who had physical access to the control room," Cameron said. "And his shift ended minutes before the incident."

"Convenient."

Gray stepped forward, a silent figure of looming danger.

"Name?" Gray asked.

"Marvin," the guy muttered. "But I already told the other dude, I didn’t do anything wrong. I just work maintenance—"

"Your hands," Gray said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "They’re trembling. Tell me, are you afraid of me, or are you afraid of what you did?"

Gray opened the same black case from earlier, lifting the pliers carefully. The light caught on the steel, casting a sharp gleam. I saw the technician’s pupils dilate as he caught sight of it.

"Now," I said, voice low, calculated, "you’re going to tell me everything you know. And I’ll make it easy for you. You won’t be tortured, as long as you cooperate. But if you keep hiding, I’ll make sure you never walk out of here with all your fingers." freewebnoveℓ.com

The technician swallowed, his throat working to contain the tremor in his voice.

"I—I don’t know what you want from me," he muttered.

I watched him closely, letting the silence stretch. Silence is always the most effective weapon. People crack under the pressure of it.

"Let me make this easy for you," I said, not taking my eyes off him. "Tell me what you know. Or Gray will do what he does best."

"Please... I don’t know anything about this—this—whatever it is you’re talking about."

I nodded to Gray.

The pliers clicked open, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. The technician flinched at the sound.

"Let’s start with this." Gray’s voice was calm, measured. He moved quickly, his fingers gripping the technician’s hand with lethal precision. The man didn’t even have a chance to protest before the pliers clamped down, the sharp bite of pain tearing a scream from him as the first nail was pulled from his finger.

The man gasped, clutching his hand to his chest, eyes wide with horror.

"You’re going to tell me what happened," I said, voice barely above a whisper. "Or you’ll lose another."

"I—I don’t know anything," the technician begged, his voice barely a squeak.

Gray stepped back, giving the technician a moment to collect himself.

Cameron leaned forward slightly. "Family?"

Gray nodded. "Wife. One kid. Boy. Two years old. Lives in Islington."

Marvin froze mid-shake, eyes wild. "Don’t—don’t touch them! Please, please, I’ll talk—I swear, I’ll tell you everything!"

I didn’t blink.

"Then speak," I said.

He panted, trying to get words out between groans of pain. "I—I got approached the night before. Some man. Don’t know his name. He found me after my shift—said he wanted me to tweak the sauna door and... mess with the hydrotherapy a little. Not break anything—just make it... stall. Lock. Trap someone inside."

My blood iced over.

"Sauna?" I repeated. "What do you mean? She was in the sauna?"

The man let out a hoarse, broken laugh. "Yeah... that was the first part. That was supposed to be it. He said he wanted her to suffocate. Heatstroke. No one would suspect—it’s a spa, right? Easy."

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

"Problem was," Marvin continued, "some stupid blonde bitch helped her out. Got the door open before it cooked her. Ruined the plan."

I went still.

Blonde?

Clara.

He was talking about Clara.

"Good thing," Marvin added bitterly, "the guy had other things lined up. Said if the first didn’t work, the pool would finish the job."

I felt a surge of anger and fear grip me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to reach through the glass and grab the technician and──

But I knew I had to keep my composure. I couldn’t let my emotions control me, not if I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.

"What was the exact instruction for the hydrotherapy unit? Every detail."

The technician started babbling, desperate to comply. "He said to disconnect the failsafe entirely. To increase the water temperature to just below scalding, quickly. And to set the jet pressure to maximum for thirty seconds, then drop it to zero for a minute, then repeat. To create a sudden, violent fluctuation. To ensure maximum... shock."

"About the man. What did he look like? How did he know where she was going?" I asked, my voice steady.

The man laughed—a wheezing, cracked sound, full of blood and arrogance.

"At least she didn’t die," he rasped. "So relax, will you?"

The technician’s chuckle echoed through the room like a mockery of the situation, but it only made my fury burn hotter. His laughter wasn’t just the product of fear; it was the kind of laugh that dared me to kill him.

I stepped forward and slammed the door open so hard it echoed like thunder.

Gray didn’t flinch. Cameron moved with me, just in case.

I crossed the room in three strides and asked while trying to contain my anger. "You think this is funny?" I asked, letting every word drip with venom. "You tried to kill her. You almost succeeded. And you think it’s funny?".

I slammed him against the wall. The chair screeched, toppled. His head cracked against concrete.

"She. Could. Have. Died," I snarled, each word sharp enough to slice. "You knew what you were doing!"

The man only chuckled, dazed and half-broken. "He said you’d come unhinged like this. Said Mr. Walton’s heir would make noise but not risk exposure..."

I stiffened.

"What did you just say?"

"He knew you would act stupid," the man muttered. "Said you’d protect me before you’d let it get out. That’s what he said. Swore on it. Told me if things went sideways, they wouldn’t touch me."

He let out a bloody laugh.

"And I believed him."

Then he grinned. Wide. Unhinged. A sick kind of pride twisting through the pain.

Gray stiffened, a shadow shifting behind me.

Cameron murmured, "Adrien..."

But I was already moving towards him again.

I reached Marvin in two steps and grabbed him by the throat, slamming him back into the chair with enough force to crack wood.

"You think this is funny?" I hissed.

He just kept laughing—wet, guttural. "The guy even gave me a burner. Said if I even looked scared, he’d know. That he’s got eyes—like, everywhere."

"Who is he?"

"I don’t know! I swear! He wore a hoodie, shades—low voice, but... but he knew your family."

Only one person I knew was that precise.

That calculating.

That personal.

I ran a hand through my hair, every muscle in my body tense with anger. Caden. I had underestimated him, again.

The technician continued, oblivious to the danger of his words. "He was paying me upfront, seven figures... said I wouldn’t have to worry about anything."

"You think I won’t kill you?" I growled, slamming my fist into Marvin’s ribs. He howled, coughing hard, legs kicking.

Another blow. And another.

"Adrien!" Cameron’s voice barked across the room. "That’s enough!"

I didn’t stop.

Cameron grabbed my arm, yanking me back. "You’ll kill him!"

"She could’ve died!" I shouted, dragging against his grip. "You saw what he just said—he watched her nearly die and laughed!"

"And you killing him won’t fix it!" Cameron shouted back, shoving me hard. "You want answers or vengeance?"

My chest rose and fell like a war drum. My knuckles were raw. My pulse thundered.

Cameron’s hand was still firm on my shoulder.

At last, I stepped back.

"Get this man out of my sight," I thundered. "Before I actually kill him."

Gray was already signaling the guards.

The technician coughed on the floor, blood smeared across his chin—but still laughing under his breath like he thought he’d won something.

I turned away, jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

Cameron rubbed his jaw, watching me carefully. "You think it’s him?"

"Caden," I said flatly. "Only he would be this calculated. This stupid. Using money and anonymity like a damn toy."

"And he’s escalating," Cameron muttered.

I didn’t answer.

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