Chapter 59

The sharp click of high heels echoed down the corridor, mingled with hushed, intimate gasps. Susan Thompson froze mid-step—she'd recognize that voice anywhere. Nicole Capra.

"Stop... someone might see us..." Nicole's tone dripped with deliberately subdued allure.

Susan clenched her handbag tighter. She had no interest in discovering which man Nicole was entangled with this time. Finding Vincent King was her priority.

"Nicole, I lost over a dozen men for you!" The rough male voice sent a tremor through Susan. The kidnapper leader.

She ducked behind a corner, nails digging into her palms. So the kidnapping had been Nicole's scheme all along—to force Andrew Lucas to abandon Daniel.

Her phone screen flickered briefly before dying. No battery. Susan bit her lip. These past days had left her too drained to even charge it.

"Louis Lynch, have you lost your mind? This is a charity gala!" Nicole's voice turned shrill. "I'll transfer the money. Don't contact me again!"

"Kicking the ladder away after climbing up?" Louis sneered. "Should I tell Mr. Lucas who ordered me to kidnap that little bastard?"

The air turned glacial. Susan's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"Louis..." Nicole's tone instantly softened. "I panicked earlier. Tomorrow night, our usual spot?"

The sound of fabric rustling and nauseating kisses followed. Susan's stomach churned. As she retreated silently, her elbow knocked over a vase.

"Who's there?" Nicole snapped.

Susan sprinted toward the ballroom without looking back. Harsh lights made her squint, her palms slick with sweat. Now she understood—Daniel's death was never an accident.

At the center of the ballroom, Andrew Lucas held court. His tailored black suit accentuated broad shoulders and a narrow waist, the collar fastened meticulously to the top. The man always resembled an unsheathed sword—razor-sharp yet forbiddingly distant.

Nicole had reappeared at his side, a flame in red silk. She clung to Andrew's arm, gliding forward under envious gazes.

"Sister." Nicole produced a gilded invitation from her bejeweled clutch. "You simply must attend our engagement party next month."

The crimson invitation resembled spilled blood. Susan noticed the unmasked wrinkles on Nicole's skirt—still bearing another man's fingerprints.