Chapter 56: The Betrayal of Fake Blood
"I don't think you fully comprehend the situation you're in, right now."
I frowned. "Actually, I think you're the one who doesn't fully understand the situation." I locked eyes with him. "Think about it. You have no clue what kind of firestorm you're about to unleash. You're playing with fire, and if you don't let me go now, things will spiral out of control fast. Trust me, you don't want to end up on the wrong side of this."
For a brief second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—a hesitation, maybe. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced with cold indifference.
"Nice try," he said, waving a hand dismissively as if my life was just another chip on the table. "But it's not about money. It's never about money, princess. It just so happened that our employer is a powerful man and will have our throats if we don't obey him."
Powerful. The word echoed in my mind, heavy with implications. Whoever had set this up wasn't after ransom or some quick payoff.
No, this was something deeper, something far more dangerous. A family vendetta? A power play? Someone looking to settle an old score? Or maybe . . .
. . .
Stefan Rosette
himself? Sinclair's second son and Sullivan's younger brother.
Suddenly, I realized how bad this situation was. This wasn't the usual half-baked kidnapping scheme by amateurs hoping for a quick payout. These guys were the real deal.
I quickly glanced at my wrist, reaching for the familiar weight of my watch—only to find it gone. Along with my other jewelry.
Perfect. They weren't amateurs after all.
A cold realization settled over me as I swallowed hard. Those weren't just accessories—they were my lifelines, the tracking devices that linked me to the outside world. Without them, I was completely off the grid.
Would the police even know where to start? Or was I about to vanish, slipping through the cracks with no one to find me?
I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears, but I forced myself to breathe, to think. I needed to buy time, to figure out who had sent them and why.
If they wanted to play this game, I'd have to play it better.
"Look," I said, my voice softer now, the edge of desperation creeping in. "Whoever hired you, they're not going to care if you're the ones who end up dead when this all blows up. They'll leave you out to dry, take their money, and vanish. You'll be the ones left holding the bag."
The man stopped for a moment, turning his head slightly, as if considering my words. The tension in the room thickened, the air heavy with unspoken threats.
But just when I thought I might have gotten through to him, he let out a cold laugh.
"Nice speech," he said, shrugging off my words as if they were nothing. "But you're wrong about one thing. This won't blow up, and no one's coming to rescue you. Do you know why that is?"
There was something chilling in his eyes, a calm certainty that twisted the knot in my stomach. The confidence in his voice told me I wasn't going to like what he had to say next.
"It's because the one who ordered your kidnapping . . . is none other than your father."
From the shadows, a figure stepped into the dim light—
Sullivan
Rosette
.
His face was cold, expressionless, as if he were discussing a minor business deal instead of standing before his own fake daughter.
Flanked by his bodyguards, he nodded toward the men who had been standing guard around me. They stepped back, like obedient dogs in the presence of their master.
It hit me like a punch to the gut—these weren't just random kidnappers. They were
his
men. Sullivan's men.
I struggled to stay conscious as the realization sent a fresh wave of pain through my already throbbing head. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I refused to faint. Not now. Not in front of him.
"
Why
?" My voice was hoarse, the question barely escaping my lips as I stared up at him, my mind reeling from the sudden revelation.
Sullivan's lip curled in a sneer, the same cold expression he always wore when he was about to deliver a blow. "I think you already know why," he said, voice dripping with disdain.
"You've known for a while, haven't you? That you're not really our daughter." He stepped closer, towering over me. "I don't know how you found out, but it doesn't matter. We can't have you near us any longer. Not with what you know."
I said nothing, my body tensing as his words confirmed what I had suspected. My cover was blown. Somehow, somewhere, he had started to piece it together that I knew.
Maybe it was the strange looks I'd been giving him lately, the way I'd been distancing myself from Sophie, or the suspicious sum of money I had stashed away in my account.
Still, I hadn't expected him to act this soon. Sophie's birthday was a week away. I was supposed to be
exiled
a month after that, but now . . . now it was happening early.
Was it because of my recent decisions? After everything I'd done to alter my fate, had I only hastened my own demise?
I gritted my teeth, anger bubbling up despite the hopelessness of the situation. "Even after everything I've done," I spat, glaring up at him with cold fury, "you still want to get rid of me?"
Sullivan laughed—a short, harsh sound that sent chills down my spine. "Get rid of you? You're a loose end, Eve. But don't worry," he said with mock sympathy, "I'm not so heartless as to kill you. No, I'll ship you off to some forgotten island, and you'll live out the rest of your days there. Alone. Never to be seen or heard from again."
His words felt like a knife twisting in my chest. This was exactly what had happened in the past—my ultimate fate. It looked like that no matter what I did, I couldn't escape it.
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