جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 70

Clinton's POV I open my eyes slowly, and the first thing I see is Richard’s face right in front of me.“What the hell, man?” My voice comes out rough as I try to sit up.The moment I move, something yanks me back hard. I freeze, my breath catching as I look down.My hands… my legs…Heavy, cold chains are wrapped tightly around my wrists and ankles, locking me to the ground like an animal. For a second, my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing. It feels unreal, like my mind is protecting me from it. Then it hits me all at once, crashing through whatever denial I had left.The smell slams into me so hard my stomach twists violently…dirt, urine, blood, and rust. It clings to the air like it lives here. I gag, turning my head sharply to the side as my nose wrinkles in disgust.“What the…” I stop myself, my voice dying halfway through.My eyes move slowly, taking everything in piece by piece.The walls are made of rough stone, uneven and damp, like they’ve been here for centuries. Dark

Catherine's POV I keep staring at my phone, hoping, praying it will ring. Why isn’t Amy calling me like she promised? I did exactly what she asked. I got a new phone, retrieved my line, and it’s already past one in the afternoon. Still nothing.The teacher’s voice yanks me back to reality, but I can’t focus. My mind keeps wandering, imagining Clinton alone, hurt, or worse. Will he be okay like Amy said? Is he even alive right now? My stomach twists at the thought.I don’t even notice when the tears start. They just fall, unbidden, streaming down my face until the whole classroom seems to freeze. The teacher’s voice breaks through. “Are you crying?” she asks, stepping closer, her tone soft but concerned.“No,” I lie quickly, trying to act normal, trying to pretend I have control. But the tears won’t stop. And that’s what hurts the most.I didn’t care about any of this before. None of it. But somehow, Clinton…and even Amy...made me feel like showing weakness, even a little, is a crime.

Catherine's POV I arrive at the location Clinton sent me, and immediately a cold knot twists in my stomach. It looks abandoned… like an old warehouse left to rot.Why here? Why now? It’s late, far later than Clinton would ever ask me to meet him somewhere like this.Something in his voice earlier, on the phone, gnaws at me. He didn’t sound like himself. He didn’t sound… whole.He called me, saying he needed my help, and then the call ended before I could even speak. Almost immediately, a text follows, telling me to come hereNo explanation. Not even a single clue about whether he’s eaten, whether he’s hurt, whether the people who kidnapped him are still nearby. Just me, running blindly into the dark, like an obedient fool.I pull out my phone, double-checking the location, muttering, “It is…” and hug myself as if the gesture could protect me.I step forward, every instinct screaming at me, my head whipping around with every small sound. I’m hyper-aware of every shadow, every whisper

Catherine's POV I don’t stop hitting the door.My fists burn, the sound dull and useless against the thick metal, like the room is swallowing everything I give it. I shout too, though my voice already feels thin, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore. Nothing comes back. No echo. No footsteps. Nothing.So I move.I jump. I pace. I stomp my feet, arms wrapped tight around myself, doing anything I can think of to keep the cold from settling deeper into my bones. It already feels too deep. Like it’s inside me now, not just around me.I don’t let myself stop.Because if I stop, I might not start again.Time stretches in a strange way. It could be minutes. It could be hours. My legs start to shake, and I slow down without meaning to. My breath comes out uneven, fogging the air in front of me.I dig my phone out of my pocket with stiff fingers.Come on.It flickers to life for a second. Just one. The screen glows, and hope rises so fast it almost hurts. I try to press something…anything…but

Clinton's POV Slowly, I turn back to him. “What about her?” I try to sound calm, but my voice cracks just enough to betray me.“Is there something you’d like to tell me about her?”That suspicion I’ve been chewing on all night is right there, mirrored in his eyes, waiting for me to confirm it.I say nothing, frozen in place, letting the silence stretch between us. He waits. I can feel the weight of it, the slow shift of power, the quiet assertion that he has the upper hand now.“Did Alpha Damon’s men hurt you?”He changes the topic abruptly, deliberately. My throat tightens. He knows. I can feel it in every nerve, every hollow space in my chest, yet he acts like he doesn’t. Pretending. The best-dad act. It’s infuriating.“You also know we're dating, don’t you?” The question slips out before I can stop it, sharp and direct.He doesn’t answer immediately. He rises and walks toward me. “Don’t ever leave the house again without my permission,” he says, and leaves. The door clicks shut be