Chapter 988:

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That was it. The insult was too great. The suggestion that her perfect creation was flawed, or that she was too cowardly to trust it, was more than her ego could bear.

“I’ll prove it to you,” she snarled.

She strode to the RK-7 storage cabinet, her movements jerky with fury. She bypassed the security with a rapid sequence of codes, her professional pride overriding all caution. The reinforced door hissed open.

She retrieved a micro-pipette containing the deep purple fluid. Her face was flushed, her eyes shining with a feverish, pathological zeal.

“One drop,” she declared, holding the pipette up to the light. “Just one drop is all it will take to prove its absolute efficacy. And I have more than enough time to administer the antidote before the effects are irreversible.”

Hilliard simply watched her, his expression unreadable. He made a small, elegant gesture with his hand. “Be my guest.”

Sav𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝗎𝘳 𝘧a𝘷оr𝗂𝘵e 𝗇о𝗏𝖾𝗅𝘴 𝗈ո 𝗴а𝗹𝗻𝘰v𝗲𝗹s.сo𝗆

Giselle grabbed a sealed bottle of expensive mineral water from a small refrigerator. She twisted the cap and, with a flourish, squeezed a single, perfect purple drop into the clear water. It dissolved instantly, leaving the water as pure and transparent as before.

She held the bottle up, a silent, triumphant toast to him. A challenge.

Then, she tilted her head back and drank it all in one long, decisive swallow. She slammed the empty bottle down on the lab table with a clatter, a victorious smirk spreading across her face.

Hilliard’s mask finally fell away. The expression that replaced it was one of cold, bone-chilling pity.

“Your mother never told you, did she, Giselle?” he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “The only antidote for RK-7 is another poison. A counter-agent.”

Her victorious smirk froze. She stared at him, uncomprehending.

“And that counter-agent,” Hilliard continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, “is currently flowing through Cailin Morton’s veins, keeping her heart beating for a few more precious days.”

Giselle’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. The horrific truth of his trap slammed into her. Her face went from flushed pink to a waxy, corpse-like white.

She spun around and clawed at the refrigerated cabinet where the real antidote was kept. She tore the door open.

It was empty.

A violent, searing pain ripped through her abdomen. She doubled over, a strangled gasp tearing from her throat.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror and disbelief. Her lips trembled. “You set me up.”

Hilliard walked over to her, looming over her crumpled form. His voice was quiet, but it was the cruelest sound she had ever heard.

“Welcome to Cailin’s world.”

Behind him, the massive blast doors began to rise with a low, grinding hiss, revealing the cold, impassive faces of Kegan Aguirre’s security team.

The pain was a living thing, a hot coil twisting in her gut. Giselle curled into a ball on the cold, sterile floor, each breath a ragged, shallow gasp. She looked up at Hilliard, at the man who stood over her like a marble statue, and the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

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