Chapter 275

Across the ocean, Lillian Prescott located Maxwell Lockwood in a dimly lit bar. He was slumped over the counter, surrounded by empty bottles. With a disgusted sigh, she yanked him away from the drunken crowd.

"Is this what you've been reduced to? The great Maxwell Lockwood, drowning his sorrows like some pathetic loser?" Lillian snatched the whiskey glass from his hand and smashed it against the wall.

Maxwell's bloodshot eyes burned with fury. "Get the hell out of here! My life is none of your damn business!"

Lillian's jaw tightened. As Jonathan Prescott's daughter, no one dared speak to her like that.

She clenched her fists, then forced herself to relax. "I'm not here to fight, Maxwell. You claim to love Evelyn, yet here you are wallowing in self-pity instead of fighting for her?"

Earlier, Beatrice Lockwood had called her for a shopping date.

Lillian had agreed, hoping to curry favor with Dominic's mother.

But Beatrice had revealed shocking news - Evelyn was manipulating Dominic, refusing to let him go.

"That shameless woman! Married to you yet clinging to my son!" Beatrice had spat.

The revelation ignited Lillian's hatred.

Dominic belonged to her. Any woman near him was her enemy.

That's why she sought out Maxwell.

Drunk and belligerent, Maxwell sneered, "What do you know? Evelyn will crawl back to me. I'm holding her precious Olivia hostage. She'll obey my every command!"

Lillian's eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. Leaning close, she whispered something that made Maxwell's dull gaze sharpen with cruel anticipation.

He immediately dialed Evelyn's number. "Want to see Olivia alive again? Meet me in Room 6617 tonight. Satisfy me, and I'll grant your divorce. Refuse... and those brutes will have their way with her."

Evelyn's face drained of color. The phone slipped from her trembling fingers, clattering to the floor.

Maxwell's words felt like ice water down her spine.

Outside, storm clouds gathered. Rain lashed against the windows like angry fingers trying to claw their way in.

Evelyn sat frozen on her bed, staring at her silent phone. The luxurious silk sheets offered no comfort against the growing dread.

With shaking hands, she tried Dominic's number again. The automated voice mocked her: "The number you have dialed is not in service."

Her heart constricted with bitter despair.

Dominic was her only hope, but he remained unreachable.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Messages flooded in from "Olivia's" account.

Evelyn's breath hitched as she opened them.

The high-resolution photos showed Olivia naked, her body positioned in degrading angles. The terror in her friend's eyes cut deeper than any blade.

Evelyn fumbled with her phone, nearly dropping it in her panic.

A deafening thunderclap shook the house.

Little Isabella woke screaming, her tiny body trembling as she clung to Evelyn. "Mommy! Mommy!"

Beside her, Alexander remained stiff, his forced calm betrayed by his white-knuckled grip on the sheets.

Evelyn soothed them with lullabies, her heart breaking as Isabella's tear-stained face finally relaxed into sleep. Even unconscious, the child clutched Evelyn's sleeve like a lifeline.

New messages arrived. Evelyn's stomach churned as she opened the videos.

Olivia, pinned beneath a hulking man with a cobra tattoo snaking across his back. His erection pressed against her as she screamed, "Help me, Evelyn! Please!"

The accompanying text read: [30 minutes, Evelyn. No police. Or this is Olivia's last night alive.]

Evelyn gasped for air, tears blurring her vision as she typed her reply: [I'm coming. Don't hurt her.]

Meanwhile, a Boeing WH787 cut through the stormy night sky.

Turbulence rocked the plane violently. Screams erupted from economy class as the aircraft plummeted.

In first class, Dominic remained impassive. His strong fingers traced Evelyn's smiling face in the photo tucked in his wallet.

He'd known about the storm. But nothing would stop him from returning to his angry woman tonight.