Half an hour later, I was shoved onto the
dusty floor of an abandoned factory, third
floor.
Forced to kneel before Damien Thorne.
“What do you want?!” I tried to scream.
Damien just put a finger to his lips, silencing
me with a gesture.
く
Then, strong hands forced my head down,
making me bend over.
He looked up at me from his wheelchair, his
remaining eye glinting maliciously.
“Chloe Reynolds, why didn’t you save me this
time?”
His voice was chillingly calm.
“It should have been you with the broken leg,
blind eye!”
Before I could even process the horrifying
implication – that he remembered – his large
hand slammed against my back.
He fucking shoved me out of the third–story
window!
3
“Help me!”
I jolted awake again, gasping.
But this time, I wasn’t back at the alley.
I was in a hospital bed.
My parents were beside me, their faces
<
etched with worry.
“Chloe, you’re finally awake! What happened?
How did you end up in that remote place?”
“Thank God some villagers found you and
brought you here. Any later and…”
My mind instantly flashed to Damien’s eyes,
crimson and terrifying.
He remembered too! He tried to kill me again!
A few police officers walked in, their
expressions serious.
“Miss Reynolds, can you recall anything that
happened before you fell?”
“Did someone push you, or did you
accidentally slip?”
My mouth opened, Damien’s name on the tip
of my tongue.
But then I thought of Caleb.
Caleb managed to fake an alibi for being out
of town.
Damien could easily do the same.
く
Besides, I had no proof. None at all.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I
can’t remember clearly.”
The police left their contact information and
departed.
After a few days in the hospital, my parents
rushed me home.
My phone had been smashed in the fall, so I
hadn’t seen any news.
Only when I got home did I find out.
The security footage of me walking past the
alley had been posted online by Damien.
He used the Thorne family’s media
connections to paint me as a greedy,
scheming villain.
Someone who conspired with the bastard
son, Caleb, to murder him.
And my fall? He spun it as a suicide attempt
driven by guilt.
In a live video feed, Damien sat in his
<
wheelchair, looking heartbroken and betrayed.
“Before Chloe Reynolds jumped,” he said, his
voice thick with fake emotion, “she confessed
to me. She admitted she brought those men
there.”
“If Isabelle hadn’t shown up when she did,
they would have killed me. Then Caleb could
have inherited the Thorne fortune without any
obstacles.”
His words ignited a firestorm online.
Caleb’s out–of–town alibi suddenly seemed
irrelevant in the court of public opinion.
I stared at the news reports, utterly stunned.
Damien was even more ruthless this time
around.
He found out I didn’t die from the fall.
So now he was going to destroy my life.
“Chloe, there’s no time to pack! We have to
go, now!”
My parents burst into my room grabbing pay
L
My parents burst into my room, grabbing my
arm.
But it was too late.
A crowd had already gathered outside our
house.
Reporters, gawking neighbors, and a few
grim–faced men I didn’t recognize.
My dad quickly jammed a hat onto my head,
pulling me behind him protectively.
“My daughter is innocent!” he shouted.
Microphones were thrust forward.
“Miss Reynolds, is what Mr. Thorne said true?
Did you pursue him for years, and when
rejected, conspire with Caleb Vance out of
hatred to kill him?”
“What was your deal with Caleb? How much
did he promise you? Even five percent of the
Thorne fortune would set your family up for
life, wouldn’t it?”
“Miss Reynolds, don’t you feel any guilt for
<
almost killing the man you supposedly loved?”
The questions came one after another, sharp
and accusing.
I clenched my fists, yelling into the nearest
microphone:
“No! It’s all lies! Damien is making it up! I’ve
never even met Caleb Vance!”
People in the crowd held up their phones,
recording.
They didn’t believe me.
Someone yelled, “Caleb Vance is a wanted
fugitive now! Of course, you’d deny it!
Otherwise, you’d be an accomplice!”
I tried desperately to argue, to make them
listen.
Suddenly, a rock flew through the air, hitting
the side of the house.
Everyone jumped back.
My parents shoved me away. “Go! We’ll
handle this!”
<
“It’s no use explaining now! Go hide at a
friend’s place for a few days! Wait for Mom
and Dad to come get you!”
I pulled the brim of my hat lower, covering my
face.
I started running, my mind racing, trying to
think where I could possibly go.
But more importantly, I needed proof.
Proof to clear my name.
Otherwise, even in this life, I wouldn’t escape
his clutches!
Or maybe I should just focus on getting out
of the country, disappear forever and never…
“Chloe Reynolds. Looking for me?”
That chilling voice, straight from my
nightmares, echoed from ahead.
