Chapter 1292:
Catherine didn’t reply, but her eyes betrayed a glimmer of worry.
“Don’t worry too much, Catherine, really. Come on, have another drink with me,” Gillian said, lifting her glass again.
Catherine turned to face her, her voice steady. “Gillian, how long have we been friends?”
Gillian blinked, clearly not expecting Catherine to ask such a question suddenly.
After a beat, she answered, “Years now, right? Since our freshman year. Crazy how time flies.”
Catherine nodded slowly. “Yeah. When we entered university, we were put in the same dorm. Then we both stayed on for grad school, always together. At school, you’re probably the one I’m closest to.”
Gillian’s smile faltered for a split second at Catherine’s words.
Two seconds passed before Gillian smiled. “Why get caught up in all that?” she said. “We’ve always been inseparable! So come on, let’s toast to a friendship that has stood the test of time.” With that, she raised her glass once more.
Catherine followed suit, their glasses meeting with a soft clink.
The evening continued with laughter and effortless conversation.
Midway through their chatter, Gillian leaned in and said casually, “Catherine, accompany me to the restroom.”
Catherine paused, glancing at her for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”
“Let’s go.” Gillian gently took her hand, and the two stepped out of the private room together, making their way toward the restroom. When Catherine exited her stall, she found that Gillian hadn’t come out yet. “Gillian? Are you done?” she asked.
“Almost,” Gillian replied.
“Okay.” Catherine didn’t press further. She moved over to the sink and turned on the faucet, washing her hands.
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Just then, a cloth was suddenly pressed tightly over her mouth and nose.
Catherine gasped, instinctively struggling to pull away as panic surged through her body. The sharp scent of chemicals overwhelmed her senses. Her head began to spin, and within seconds, her resistance weakened.
In the mirror before her, just before she blacked out, Catherine caught sight of the culprit’s reflection.
It was Gillian.
A flicker of hurt flashed across Catherine’s eyes. She wanted to speak, to ask why, but she had no strength left and quickly fainted.
Gillian caught her as she fainted, slipping an arm around her waist to support her weight. A cold, triumphant smirk curled on her lips.
With practiced ease, she carried Catherine out.
Because of the years of labor she had done before, Gillian possessed strength most wouldn’t expect.
It took little effort for her to bring the unconscious Catherine upstairs to a pre-arranged hotel suite.
After laying Catherine on the bed, Gillian looked down at her and let out a cold laugh.
