جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 420

Regina’s POVThe road to Brimworth curled like a ribbon through misty hills, the late-autumn sunlight flashing on the windshield as Maxwell drove.For a while, neither of us spoke, the silence between us was easy, almost companionable.Every so often, he’d glance my way, his profile cut against the light, that familiar quiet focus etched on his face.It felt strange, leaving the children behind.But Sandra had insisted.“Go,” she’d said, standing at the door of the Chamberlain estate that morning. “They’ll be fine with me.”It had startled me, her warmth, her calm voice.Maybe she really was trying.The drive took four hours. When we finally reached Brimworth, the air smelled faintly of pine and sea salt.The little town was nestled between green hills and a narrow strip of coastline, its streets dotted with faded brick buildings and overgrown gardens.We checked into the same hotel we had stayed at the last time we were here. The rooms were small but cozy, their windows opening to a

Regina’s POVWhen I woke, my mouth tasted like metal and my wrists ached.The air was heavy, thick, damp, and filled with the faint stench of mold. My eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim yellow light hanging from a single bulb above.Concrete walls. No windows.It took me only a few seconds to realize I was in a basement.My throat was dry when I tried to speak. “Hello?”A familiar voice answered, one that made every cell in my body go rigid.“Well,” came the deep, measured drawl, “look who’s finally awake.”Thomas Klien stepped out from the shadows like a nightmare taking shape.His hair was thinner now, his face lined with age, but those eyes… those sharp, gleaming eyes were the same. The same ones that used to study me like I was some kind of experiment, back when I was just a terrified little girl.“You,” I whispered. My voice trembled but the hatred beneath it steadied me.“Me,” he said with a twisted smile. “And you—you’ve grown up so well. Almost didn’t recognize you

Regina’s POVI woke to a taste of copper in my mouth and the sour, cottony fog of whatever they'd put in the rag pressed against my face the last time.For a second I had no idea where I was, then the memory slammed back in, hard and bright.The bulb overhead hummed, guttering a thin, jaundiced light across the concrete.My head felt like someone had wrapped it in cloth. I blinked and tried to move my arms. They were sore, but not bound. Somebody had left them free. That was a mercy and a new kind of terror.“And finally,” a voice said, slick with amusement.Joshua Beck was lounging in the doorway like he owned the room. He looked exactly how he always did in my memory: sharp suit, haircut that had never quite relaxed into anything human, eyes too bright for his face.He smiled when he saw me attempting to sit up. The smile had no warmth.“You,” I rasped. “What—why—?”He pushed off the doorframe and walked in with the slow, easy confidence of a man who believes chaos is his to manage.

Maxwell’s POVWe found Joshua where he’d always preferred to hide, among the polished anonymity of a private members’ club downtown, sipping something expensive and pretending the rest of the city didn’t exist.He was alone at a corner table when Alexander and I walked in. The room smelled of old leather and citrus; the light was lazy and forgiving. I wasn’t.Joshua looked up as we approached, and for a second there was the familiar, poisonous friendliness in his face. “Maxwell,” he said, standing as if surprised. “I thought you’d be in Brimworth another day. Good to see you.”Alexander didn’t bother with pleasantries. He planted himself opposite Joshua and set his jaw. “Where is she?” he asked, voice low enough that the bartender pretended not to hear.I could feel the room drawing a curious breath as the tension settled like fog. It took every scrap of restraint not to step across the table and put my hand around Joshua’s throat.Instead I let my coat fall open, keeping my hands vis

Regina’s POVMaxwell’s hand was firm around mine, keeping me upright. My knees were weak, but my rage held me steady.“Stay behind me,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with steel.But there was no staying behind anyone anymore.“Leaving so soon?” Morgana purred, her voice echoing off the damp concrete. “You both seem to have a habit of running.”Thomas stepped forward, his expression dark. “You shouldn’t have come here, Maxwell. This isn’t your fight.”“Like hell it isn’t,” Maxwell shot back. His voice was pure venom. “You made it my fight when you put my father in a coma—when you hurt her.”Thomas smirked, a flash of old arrogance in his eyes. “Your father was collateral. Nothing personal.”“Nothing personal?” I spat, the sound of my own voice startling me. “You drugged me. You took me when I was just a kid! You made sure I forgot who I was. That’s not collateral, that’s cruelty.”For a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes, not remorse, just irritation, like I was an inco