CHAPTER 41: CHAPTER FORTY ONE

Chapter Forty-One

Alicia’s POV

I woke up feeling like I was drowning.

The room was unfamiliar. The sheets smelled like him. And his eyes were on me—dark, intense, watching me like I was something precious he’d finally captured.

A smile played on his lips. Satisfied. Victorious. Like he’d just won something he’d been fighting for.

Last night crashed through my memory in vivid, inescapable detail.

His hands on my skin. His mouth on mine. The way I’d surrendered completely. The way I’d begged him not to stop. The sounds I’d made. The things we’d done.

Oh God. What had I done?

Tears burned my eyes, blurring his face.

I watched his smile fade. Watched concern crease his forehead. But I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe past the guilt crushing my chest.

I was married. Still married. Travis was unconscious in a hospital bed, and I’d spent the night in his brother’s arms.

I was a cheater. Just like him. Just like the man I’d hated for two years.

How was I any better?

I’d called Travis a monster. Had judged him. Had felt morally superior even as he broke me down piece by piece.

And now? Now I’d thrown myself at Malachi like I had no self-control. Like my marriage vows meant nothing. Like I was exactly what Layla had always said I was.

A slut.

The word echoed in my head, vicious and condemning.

I threw the duvet off and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My body ached in places that reminded me of everything we’d done. Every touch. Every kiss. Every moment I’d lost myself in him.

"Alicia." Malachi’s voice was soft. Careful. "What’s wrong?"

I stood, not looking at him. Not trusting myself to see the tenderness in his eyes without breaking completely.

"Leave me alone."

"Talk to me—"

"I said leave me alone!" The words came out sharper than I intended. Desperate.

I needed to get out. Needed distance. Needed to scrub away the evidence of my betrayal before it ate me alive.

I moved toward the door, but Malachi was faster. He stepped in front of me, blocking my escape. His bare chest filled my vision. Evidence of what we’d done marked across his skin—scratches, marks I’d left in the heat of the moment.

"Are you really going to leave?" His voice carried an edge now. "After everything we just shared?"

Shared. Like it was something beautiful. Something meaningful.

It wasn’t. It was a mistake. A terrible, irreversible mistake.

"Move." I tried to step around him.

He caught my wrist gently. "Alicia, please. Just talk to me."

Something inside me snapped.

My hand flew up before conscious thought caught up. The slap connected with his cheek. Hard. The sound cracked through the room.

His head turned slightly from the impact. His jaw clenched. But he didn’t raise his hand. Didn’t retaliate. Just stood there, taking it.

"I won’t be a toy for the Blackwoods," I said, my voice shaking with rage and shame and pain. "I won’t be another thing you people break."

I pushed past him and ran.

Down the hallway. Into my room. The door slammed behind me, and I locked it immediately.

My reflection caught in the mirror. I looked wild. Hair tangled. Lips swollen. Marks on my neck that screamed what I’d done.

I couldn’t look at myself.

I stumbled to the bathroom and turned the shower on. Hot. As hot as I could stand.

Then I grabbed the sponge and stepped under the spray.

I scrubbed. Hard. Harder. Until my skin turned red and raw and burning.

But it wasn’t enough. No amount of water could wash away what I’d done. No amount of soap could cleanse the sin of betraying my vows.

Even if those vows had been meaningless. Even if Travis had destroyed any sanctity our marriage might have had. Even if I was planning to divorce him.

I’d still crossed a line. Had still become the thing I’d hated.

The sponge fell from my hands. I sank to the floor of the shower, water beating down on me, and let the tears come.

They mixed with the spray, indistinguishable. Silent sobs wracked my body until I had nothing left.

Eventually, the water ran cold. I turned it off and sat there in the silence, shivering.

I couldn’t stay here. Couldn’t face him. Couldn’t pretend last night hadn’t happened.

I needed to focus. On Sophie. On saving her. On getting us both out of this city and away from the Blackwood family forever.

I dried off with a towel. Put on comfortable clothes. Avoided looking at the marks on my skin.

The bathtub called to me. I filled it with warm water and sank in, seeking some kind of peace. Some kind of clarity.

Instead, exhaustion pulled me under. I closed my eyes just for a moment.

When I opened them again, the water was cold and the light outside had changed.

Evening. I’d slept the entire day.

A knock on the door made me jump.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" Maurice’s voice. Polite. Professional. "I wanted to remind you about the evening party. All the employees will be attending. Mr. Blackwood asked me to—"

"I’m not going," I called out.

"Are you certain? It’s meant to be a celebration—"

"I’m not going, Maurice. Thank you."

Silence. Then retreating footsteps.

I climbed out of the tub and dressed quickly. Jeans. A sweater. Nothing fancy. Nothing that said I cared about parties or celebrations or anything other than the mission ahead.

Sophie. I needed to focus on Sophie.

I grabbed my phone and called Lucas.

"Alicia?" He sounded worried. "Are you okay? After last night—"

"I’m fine. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To find my father. Your friend gave us a location, remember? We’re going tonight."

"Tonight? Are you sure that’s—"

"Tonight," I repeated firmly. "I can’t wait anymore. Every day that passes is another day Sophie is trapped with him."

Lucas hesitated, then sighed. "Okay. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes."

"Thank you."

When he arrived, I climbed into his car and immediately noticed the bruising on his face. Purple and yellow marks blooming across his cheekbone and jaw. Malachi’s work.

Guilt twisted in my stomach. "Lucas, I’m so sorry. He had no right—"

"It’s fine." He tried to smile, but I could tell it hurt. "I’ve had worse."

That didn’t make it better.

We drove in silence toward the docks. The industrial area where Lucas’s friend had traced my father. Where Sophie was supposedly being kept.

The buildings grew more run down as we got closer. Warehouses. Abandoned factories. The kind of place people went when they didn’t want to be found.

Lucas parked near a dilapidated building with broken windows and graffiti covering the walls.

"This is it," he said. "According to my friend, your father’s been staying in the apartment above that restaurant." He pointed to a small, grimy establishment with flickering neon signs.

My heart pounded. This was it. After years of not knowing where he was, of being abandoned and forgotten, I was about to face him again.

"Are you ready?" Lucas asked gently.

No. I’d never be ready.

"What’s the plan?" I asked instead.

"You go in. Keep him talking. I already called the police and gave them this address. They should be here in ten, fifteen minutes max. Just stall until they arrive."

"And Sophie?"

"Once the police come, they’ll handle getting her out. You won’t have to negotiate or pay anything. He’ll be arrested for attempted trafficking."

It sounded simple. Too simple.

But I didn’t have any better options.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Let’s do this."

We walked to the restaurant entrance. The smell of grease and cigarette smoke hit me immediately. Inside was dim and filled with men drinking and playing cards.

And there, at a corner table, was my father.

He looked older. More worn. His face was red from drinking, his clothes cheap and dirty.

Beside him sat Sophie.

My breath caught.

She was so beautiful. So much like our mother it hurt to look at her. The same delicate features. The same dark hair. The same sad eyes that had seen too much.

When she looked up and saw me, shock flooded her face. "Ali?"

My father’s head swung around. When he saw me, a slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to visit her old man." He gestured to an empty chair. "Sit down, Little Ghost. We have so much to catch up on."

I forced my feet to move. Forced myself to sit across from him. Lucas stayed near the entrance, watching.

"You’ve grown up," my father said, looking me over with eyes that made my skin crawl. "Marriage must agree with you. Though I hear your husband’s in a coma. Such a shame."

"Let Sophie go." I kept my voice steady. "Whatever you want from me, fine. But let her go."

He laughed. "Let her go? She’s my daughter. I can do whatever I want with her."

"She’s a child."

"She’s seventeen. Your mother was younger when I married her." He took a long drink. "And Mr. Chen is very generous. He’s already paid half upfront."

My stomach turned. "You sold her."

"I’m securing her future. Just like I did for you." He leaned forward. "Speaking of which, where’s my money, Little Ghost? You have four days left."

"I need more time—"

"No more time. Four days or the deal with Chen goes through." He glanced at Lucas. "Who’s your friend? The pretty boy you brought along. Is he your concubine? Does your husband know you’re whoring around?"

Rage burned in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Just keep him talking. The police will be here soon.

"He’s an old friend. He’s helping me—"

"Helping you?" My father’s eyes narrowed. "Helping you how? Are you planning something, Little Ghost?"

"No. I just wanted to see Sophie. To talk."

"Talk." He didn’t believe me. I could see it in his eyes.

I glanced at my phone discreetly. Five minutes. The police should be here any moment.

Just five more minutes.

Then I heard footsteps outside.

Relief flooded through me. Finally, the police were here. This nightmare was almost over.

The door opened.

But it wasn’t the police who walked in.

It was Malachi.

His eyes scanned the room and landed on me. Then shifted to Lucas. His expression went dark. Dangerous. The kind of dark that preceded violence.

No. No, no, no.

My father followed my gaze and smiled wider. "Well, well. Another visitor. This is turning into quite the party."

Malachi’s eyes met mine across the room. Angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

He thought I’d run to Lucas. Thought I’d chosen someone else over him after last night.

The carefully constructed plan shattered in an instant.

Everything was falling apart.

The police hadn’t arrived yet. Malachi was here, radiating barely controlled violence. My father was watching everything like it was entertainment.

And Sophie. Sophie just looked terrified.

I stood slowly, my hands shaking. "Malachi. What are you doing here?"

His jaw clenched. "I could ask you the same thing."

Anger surged through me. Hot and consuming. This was my plan. My rescue. My chance to save Sophie before anyone else got involved or hurt.

And he’d just walked in and destroyed it all.