Chapter 53
I enjoyed watching Henry ansiously check his expensive watch. The powerful Mi. Harding, trapped in his own walk in closet, corating with insition tables had finally turned. Through the glass panel, his impatience became increasingly evident with each parsing recond,
“There’s running out, I said coolly, my fingers elegantly twirling the close key. “Isabella most be wondering where her thining bright bar gene.
At the mention of Isabella’s name, his jaw tightened. “Sophia, stop this childish game right now.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This man who had controlled every aspect of my life for five years was now at my mercy, trapped behind glass like an exhift. 1 moved closer to the door, letting him clearly see what he was missing.
“Childish? I savored the word slowly. Now it’s your turn to beg me?
Henry’s phone rang again—Isabella’s special ringtone filling the entire closet. He checked the time once more, his expression growing darker.
Think carefully, Mr. Harding, I said, lowering my voice to a seductive whisper while dangling the key. Your dear Isabella is waiting. You wouldn’t want to keep a lady waiting, would you? Just tell me where my son is.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “What if I refuse?”
1 shrugged, the gesture deliberately provocative. “Then I suppose you’ll have to explain to Isabella why you stood her up. I’m curious what excuse you’ll come up with this time.”
The look in his eyes was murderous, but I knew I had pushed him to his limit. After moment of silent fury, he grabbed a marker from the desk and began writing on the glass panel separating us.
An address appeared on the glass.
My heart raced. Billy.
I quickly dressed myself, maintaining a calm expression despite the relief flooding through me. Once fully clothed, I tossed the key toward the door–not close enough for him to reach, but not so far that it would be impossible to retrieve.
“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Harding,” I said, turning to leave with as much dignity as I could muster.
“You can’t leave me like this!” Henry roared, his fists pounding against the glass. “The key is too far! Hand it to me properly!”
I paused at the bedroom door, looking back at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is there a problem?”
“You know damn well there’s a problem!” His voice was tight with barely controlled anger. “I need that key!”
“Mr. Harding,” I lightly tapped my temple, “use that clever brain of yours. I’m sure you can figure something out. Perhaps find a tool? Improvise?”
His face contorted with anger.
“Sophia!” His voice followed me down the hallway. “When I get out-”
I had no time to stay and listen to his threats. I needed to find my son.
Henry stared at the key on the floor, just beyond his reach. The door crack was too narrow for his hand, and the key too far to kick toward him. Sophia had planned this perfectly.
“Damn it! He slammed his fist against the glass again.
Isabella must be wondering where he was. He had promised to come right away.
He desperately scanned the closet. Suits, shirts, ties, shoes–nothing that could help him reach that cursed key. Then his eyes fell on the metal hangers in
the corner.
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Chapter 53
Acting quickly, he unwound one, balloning a makeshift hook, Awkwardly kneeling in the confined space, he rel the tire brain in – his arm as far as possible
The first attempt failed, the hook barely grazing the key.
Fuck! He adjusted his position and tried again.
The second attempt sent the key skidding even further away.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried a third time, his expensive suit becoming wrinkled as he fay flat on the ground. This woman–this nobody who had once been grateful just to beat his name–had reduced him to such a disgraceful state.
When he finally got out of here, he would make Sophia pay. No one made a fool of Henry Harding and got
away with it.
No one.
The opulent VIP suite of Manhattan General Hospital gleamed under soft lighting, creating an atmosphere more suited to a luxury hotel than a medical facility. Outside the floor–to–ceiling windows, city lights twinkled in the midnight sky.
Isabella paced anxiously. She checked her phone again–no messages. Henry was more than an hour late.
Where is he? He had promised to come immediately.
The door finally opened, and relief flooded through her–until she saw Henry’s disheveled appearance. His usually immaculate suit was wrinkled, his hair messy, and his expression grim.
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