Chapter 532
Brixton arched an eyebrow, finally betraying a trace of interest. "Let's hear it."
With a casual flick of his hand, the two men restraining Erica eased their grip a little.
Erica sucked in a trembling breath and blurted out, "Hannah Scott! She's Vincent's ex-wife-and the woman he's completely besotted with right now! He'd walk through fire for her! If we take Hannah as a hostage,there's no way he won't bend, no way he won't pay! He'll hand over whatever we demand!"
Brixton paused, weighing her words carefully. He'd caught murmurings of Hannah, and word on the street claimed Vincent was completely tied up with her.
Brixton's thoughts never strayed far from money, and if seizing one woman could turn into a fortune, it was a gamble worth weighing.
"Just one woman? You really believe he'd pay such a heavy price for her?" Brixton asked, his gaze sharp as a hawk circling its prey, searching Erica's face for any hint of deception.
Erica pressed on, her voice unsteady yet desperate. "As long as it involves Hannah! He will, I swear it!|swear on my life!"
Brixton scrutinized her for several heartbeats, his mind turning the risk and the payoff over like two sides of a coin. In the end, greed tipped the balance. He rose to his feet and gestured toward a man nearby."Scorpio, take a few men and follow her lead for now. Remember-the money is all that matters. Keep it neat -no bloodshed."
A scar-faced mnan with a glint of ice in his eyes gave a curt nod. "Understood."
Brixton cast Erica one last frigid glance. "Erica, this is your final chance. Screw it up again and you know what awaits you."
Relief washed over Erica like air to a drowning soul. She nodded frantically. "Thank you, Mr. Ward! Thank you! I won't disappoint you! I'll deliver Hannah to you and get Vincent's money!" As Brixton walked out, Erica collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
Once she slipped out of the club, she made straight for the Jones estate. Inside her room, she bolted the door and sank against it, her frame quivering beyond her control. The terror lingered... Everything she had just endured felt like a nightmare given flesh. She could still feel those rough hands pawing at her, those ravenous eyes crawling over her as though she were prey already caught.
Once, when fortune in the underworld stilsmiled on her, she had been treated like royalty-untouchable,above fear, spared every humiliation. Now, she was nothing more than hunted prey, cornered and trembling -one step away from being gang-raped.
She rushed into the bathroom, turned the water to searing hot, and scoured her skin again and again until it burned red and raw.
But dread's cold grip and disgust's foul scent seeped into her very bones, beyond the reach of soap or steam.
She needed money. A mountain of it. If the plan with Hannah's kidnapping collapsed, or if Brixton's patience snapped, she had to secure a way out-enough to vanish and begin anew somewhere.
Still dripping, Erica staggered barefoot from the bathroom and tore through her belongings in a frenzy,searching for anything of worth. Her jewelry, her luxury bags... Even the painting she had intended for Sharon but rejected.
As she lifted the painting to wrap it, a small black object slipped from a hidden gap in the frame and landed softly on the carpet.
At first, Erica thought it was just a loose clip or a splintered piece of the frame. She bent instinctively to pick it up.
But the moment it rested in her palm, her heart missed a beat. This was no part of the frame. The shape, the wiring-it was a miniature bugging device.
The truth struck her like a bolt from the blue. That day at the gallery-Hannah had appeared from nowhere and "happened" to bid against her for this very painting! Could it be that Hannah had never wanted the painting at all but had planted this bug inside it?