Chapter 128
Chapter 128:
Skye sat. She didn’t eat. She watched them.
“Where is Victor?” Skye asked, breaking the silence.
“Rotting in a holding cell because you won’t pay his bail,” Arthur spat. “The judge set it at five million. We need liquidity, Skye p>
“We need you to sign over your claim to the grandfather trust,” Arthur continued, cutting straight to the chase. “The lawyers say your signature is required to unlock the liquidity p>
“The trust is empty, Arthur,” Skye said calmly. She kept her face impassive, but internally, she smirked. He didn’t know she had already moved the assets. “You know how fast money disappears in this family. Maybe you should check the balance before you threaten me p>
Arthur slammed his fork down. “Lies! Sign the paper p>
“No,” Skye said.
“A toast,” Petunia interrupted, her voice shrill. “To family reconciliation p>
She poured wine. Skye didn’t touch her glass.
“Drink,” Timothy said, leaning forward. “It’s rude to refuse a toast p>
“I’m not drinking,” Skye said coldly, pushing the glass away. “I know better than to drink anything in this house p>
Petunia smiled. It was a terrifying, shark-like grin. “A pity. But then again, you’ve been breathing the air in here for ten minutes, haven’t you p>
Skye froze. She looked at the centerpiece on the table. A diffuser was puffing out a faint, odorless mist.
Suddenly, her fingertips went numb.
She tried to stand. Her knees buckled. She fell back into the chair.
“Aerosolized ketamine blend,” Timothy said, chuckling as he stood up. “Expensive, but effective. You didn’t have to drink a drop p>
“She needs to be taught a lesson,” Petunia sneered. “Ungrateful brat p>
𝗥eѕp𝘦𝘤𝗍 𝗍𝘩e 𝗼rig𝗂ո𝘢l 𝗰on𝘁e𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗼𝘮 𝖻e𝗅𝗻𝗈𝗏е𝘭𝗌.с𝗼𝗺
Timothy walked to the door and locked it. The click echoed loudly.
“You think you’re so high and mighty,” Timothy said, loosening his belt. “Let’s see how much you’re worth after tonight p>
Skye’s vision blurred. Panic surged, fighting the drug. She grabbed a wine glass and smashed it against the edge of the table.
Shards of glass flew. She grabbed a jagged piece.
She didn’t aim at Timothy. She jammed the shard into her own palm.
Pain. Sharp, blinding pain.
The shock cleared the fog in her brain for a second. Adrenaline spiked. Blood dripped onto the white tablecloth, bright red.
“Stay back!” Skye hissed, holding the bloody shard out.
Timothy laughed. “Feisty. I like that p>
He stepped closer.
Suddenly, a massive crash shook the house.
It sounded like a bomb going off. The front door of the mansion hadn’t been kicked—it had been breached with a battering ram.