Chapter 3

The bedroom door soon swung open.

Nolan followed Blair inside. He'd changed out of his formalwear and was now wearing an oversized silk robe that belonged to Blair.

During our first year of marriage, I'd worn it once. She'd frowned and told me to take it off, saying she didn't like other people touching her clothes.

So it wasn't that she disliked it. She just disliked seeing anyone but Nolan wearing it.

"Greyson, is your hand feeling any better?" Nolan walked over to the table and reached for the pocket watch.

I covered it with my hand before he could touch it. "Don't."

Nolan's eyes instantly reddened as he looked at Blair. "Blair, did Greyson take something important from the company? Before Jason got into trouble, he seemed to be looking for some kind of storage device."

Blair's gaze settled on the pocket watch. "Jason stole a batch of confidential company documents before he died."

She held out her hand to me, every trace of warmth gone from her eyes. "Give me the watch."

I turned to dodge her, but she slammed me hard against the wall. "What's really inside it?"

"I told you. It's my mother's keepsake."

"Why would Jason give your mother's keepsake to you?"

"I don't know."

"You're still going to lie to me?" She gripped the watch and twisted it forcefully several times.

The silver casing had been warped by the heat, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't open it.

Standing behind her, Nolan spoke softly, "Blair, forget it. If Greyson really wants to use the company's property against the Carters, let him. After all, he hates me and the Carter family too."

Blair's expression darkened. "I'm not letting company property fall into the hands of an outsider."

I looked at her, my heart feeling as though an invisible hand was squeezing it. "I'm not an outsider."

"Then give me the watch."

"It's mine."

"Greyson, don't push me."

Nolan gently tugged at her sleeve. "Blair, Greyson's just confused right now. We can't let Jason's things get out. We should destroy them first."

Blair stared at me for a long time. There was no guilt in her eyes, only anger that I'd kept something from her and a determination to protect Nolan.

The next second, she threw the pocket watch onto the floor and brought her foot down on it. The silver casing shattered into pieces.

I touched the chip hidden inside my bandage, my heart still pounding with relief that she'd failed to discover it.

"Lock him in the second-floor room," she ordered the bodyguards coldly. "He is not to leave under any circumstances before six tomorrow morning."

I didn't resist.

The chip tucked inside my bandage dug into my wound, sending stabbing pain through my hand, but I had no time to worry about it.

As soon as the bedroom door locked behind me, I tore the bedsheets into strips, twisted them into a long rope, and tied one end to the windowsill.

I was on the second floor, with hard stone paving below.

But my father was still waiting for me. I had no way out.

My right hand was useless, so I could only climb down slowly with my left.

Halfway down, the bedsheets suddenly tore. My body dropped, weightless for an instant. I hit the ground hard, and a sharp pain shot through my ankle.

Before I could even get up, the entire villa was blazing with light.

"He's escaped!"

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand and ran barefoot into the wooded hillside behind the villa.

I'd already studied the blind spots in the security cameras back there. I also knew there was a gap in the construction fencing. It was the last escape route I'd prepared for myself.

Jagged stones tore into the soles of my feet as the sounds of pursuit grew closer behind me.

After I managed to flag down a passing taxi, I used the driver's phone to call Conor.

The moment he answered, I spoke urgently, "Conor, I have the evidence! If I bring it to you now, is there still time?"

But the other end of the line fell silent.

A few seconds later, he spoke through a choked voice, "Greyson, the execution schedule has changed."

"What do you mean?"

"The prison originally notified us that your father would be executed at six tomorrow morning. But tonight, the Carter family used their connections to submit a so-called emergency security report.

"They claimed your father was at risk of self-harm, and the execution was moved up to one.

"We can still try to get a stay, but the new evidence must be delivered to the prosecutor's office and the court responsible for carrying out the execution immediately."

My breath caught in my throat.

The clock on the car dashboard showed 12:22 a.m.

Thirty-eight minutes left.

Just then, blinding headlights flooded the car from behind. Several black sedans blocked the road completely.

Blair stepped out of the lead car and looked at me coldly through the rain.

"Greyson, hand it over."