Chapter 609:

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Then the doorknob began to turn. Slowly.

The slow, deliberate turn of the doorknob ended with a sharp click.

A metallic scrape followed as the knob was twisted again, harder this time. But the heavy wooden chair Amelia had wedged underneath held firm, jamming the mechanism.

A moment of dead silence hung in the air, thick with menace. Whoever stood outside seemed to have lost their patience.

Then came a heavy, dull thud. The sound of a body hitting the door.

Amelia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She stared at the door, frozen by a terror so profound it felt like ice water in her veins, her lips pressed together hard enough to hurt.

A second impact followed, then a third, each one making the doorframe groan in protest.

With another thunderous crash that echoed the storm outside, the lock splintered and the door flew open, slamming against the wall.

𝘈𝖽𝖽𝘪𝖼𝗍𝗂𝘷𝗲 ոо𝗏е𝗹s 𝘰n 𝗀а𝗹𝗻о𝘷𝗲𝗹𝗌.𝖼o𝘮

Two tall figures in black raincoats stood silhouetted in the doorway. A flash of lightning lit their faces, slick with rain, their expressions utterly cold.

A short, choked scream escaped Amelia’s throat. Primal survival instinct took over. She grabbed the ceramic lamp from the nightstand and hurled it at one of the men with all her strength.

He ducked his head with casual ease, and the lamp smashed against the wall behind him, exploding into a hundred pieces.

The other man was already moving, crossing the room in two long strides. His hand shot out and clamped around her wrist like a steel trap.

Amelia struggled, clawing at his face with her free hand, but the difference in strength was hopeless. He subdued her easily, forcing her back onto the bed.

A sharp, violent contraction seized her, and she cried out, her body arching in pain.

At that same moment, on the other side of the country, the grand gala at the Langley estate in New York was just beginning.

Sterling Langley, ever the gentleman, held the car door for Brooke, who wore a magnificent evening gown that did little to conceal her advanced pregnancy.

Brooke placed a hand on her belly as she stepped out. “This damn weather,” she complained to Sterling. “I hope this party ends early.”

Sterling smiled and offered a soothing word, but his eyes darted nervously toward the depths of the sprawling estate.

In another black sedan pulling up to the entrance, Garrett Thornton sat in a perfectly tailored suit, his face as cold and hard as the rain lashing the window. The ache in his leg was a dull, persistent throb, a pain he suppressed through sheer force of will.

His phone buzzed. Casey Henderson.

“Sir, we’re in position. Brice Langley just appeared in the ballroom.”

Garrett’s voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Understood. Proceed as planned.”

Back in the safe house, Amelia braced herself for the worst, but the men didn’t harm her. They simply held her down.

One of them spoke, his voice impersonal. “Miss Frye, Mr. Thornton sent us to get you. It’s no longer safe here.”

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