Despite the allure of Henleys proposition, Raegan remained steadfast in her
refusal.
“I'm not ready to consider it,” she asserted.
She harbored ambitions to venture abroad, yet was determined to rely on no one
but herself.
With a serene smile, Henley reassured, “There's still half a year left. Should you
wish to depart, you'll have me join you on the journey abroad.”
Raegan, unconvinced of the feasibility of accompanying Henley abroad, rose to
her feet.
“Henley, one moment,” she said before retrieving the gifts Gerda had given her
and presenting them to him.
Henley declined, “No, Raegan. Take them. My mother gave them to you.
They're yours.”
Raegan, insistent, refused to accept what she felt was not hers.
Once outside Raegan’s place, the warmth drained from Henley’s expression,
replaced by an icy veneer.
The memory of Raegan’s unhesitating rejection inflicted an unfamiliar ache within
him.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Could it be a genuine interest in her?
Interrupted by a call, Henley responded indifferently, his attention shifting back to
Raegan’s window, “Let her know something and bite the bait,” he commanded
coldly.
At Triclinium Hospital of Ardlens.
Lauren found herself confined in a pitch-black room. Its airtight seal contained a
stench reminiscent of decay, a grim reminder of death’s presence.
Mice skittered beneath her, occasionally venturing onto her feet, prompting her to
suppress her disgust for fear of crushing their carcasses in a frantic effort to
evade them.
This grim reality was her penance for yet another thwarted attempt to flee.
Upon her arrival at Triclinium, she protested her sanity vehemently, claiming
she'd been committed against her will.
Initially, the staff inquired about her admittance, to which she exclaimed, “Mitchel,
the CEO of the Dixon Group, is to blame!”
Their demeanor shifted to solemnity upon her declaration, convincing them of her
delusion, and subjected her to a rigorous regime, two hours of daily “re-
education” via film, designed to cement her supposed madness.
Over time, Lauren learned to play along with their treatment.
Yet, she clung to the idea of escape, consumed with the desire to confront
Raegan, the woman she blamed for her plight. In her mind, had Raegan not
interfered, she would have already been Mitchel's wife.
One day, the heavy iron door groaned open, and a shadowy figure entered with
an effortless grace.