Chapter 166:
Makenna’s POV:
I raced to Clayton’s residence, my heart pounding in my chest as I rang the doorbell.
At this point, he was the only lifeline I had left, the one person who might be able to help me.
Each second that passed felt like an eternity, my anxiety tightening with every breath.
Finally, the villa’s gates creaked open, and a servant appeared.
“Miss Dunn, is there something you need?” the servant asked.
I bit my lip, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “Is Prince Clayton at home? I need to speak with him—it’s urgent.”
The servant’s expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry, Miss Dunn, but His Highness isn’t home at the moment. You may want to try again another day.”
Not home?
A wave of panic crashed over me. “Do you know where he went? When will he be back?”
My voice trembled as I spoke, the fear of losing my mother’s remaining belongings gnawing at me. The servant hesitated, his eyes reflecting a hint of sympathy. “He has been quite occupied lately. There’s been some trouble among his subordinates, so it might be difficult to reach him anytime soon.”
“How can this be?” I whispered, feeling my breath hitch as despair began to set in.
Sensing my distress, the servant offered, “If it’s truly urgent, I could try to contact His Highness for you?” But I shook my head, forcing a weak smile. “No, that’s alright. I don’t want to bother him.”
Clayton surely had more pressing matters to attend to. I couldn’t drag him into my problems.
Thanking the servant with a heavy heart, I turned to leave, my mind reeling with uncertainty.
𝘿𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨 — 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙩 𝙜ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒𝗰𝗈𝗺
Without Clayton’s help, what was I supposed to do?
The list of people I could trust was painfully short.
Should I really consider asking Dominic for help?
A shudder ran through me at the thought.
“Ugh!” I muttered, scrunching up my face in disgust. “That scoundrel would never help me without demanding something in return.”
The memory of that encounter in the library came flooding back, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Neither Dominic nor Bryan could be trusted.
I was running out of options, and with each passing moment, the walls seemed to close in around me.
Just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, a familiar voice, rich with mockery, broke through my thoughts.
“You seem pretty desperate. Couldn’t find Clayton, so why didn’t you think to come to me?”
The voice sent a chill down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
It was Bryan. What on earth was he doing here?
The memories of being at his mercy flooded back like a dark tide, his cold, calculating eyes glaring at me as he stood toe-to-toe with Clayton.
A wave of terror gripped me, and without even turning around, I quickened my pace, trying to escape before he could ensnare me again. I needed to get away—now.
But Bryan wasn’t about to let me slip through his fingers. Before I could take another step, he was already in front of me, blocking my path with a smug, lazy grin.
“You’ve gotten pretty bold, haven’t you? Ignoring me like that,” he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes.
I instinctively took a step back, my pulse racing as I forced a smile, trying to mask the fear churning inside me. “Ignore you? I wouldn’t dare. What can I do for you?”
“Is that so?” Bryan’s smile darkened, his gaze narrowing as if something sinister had just crossed his mind.
He leaned in closer, his presence suffocating. “You had the nerve to run off with Clayton, so what else wouldn’t you dare do?”
A cold sweat broke out on my skin, the fear tightening its grip on my heart. Desperately, I tried to keep my voice steady, forcing another strained smile. “You’re blocking my way. How could I run?”
If I had the chance, I would have bolted already! As I stalled for time, my mind raced, searching for any possible escape route.
Running into Bryan was the worst possible scenario—if he captured me again, I’d lose all my mother’s belongings.
But my words only seemed to fuel his anger. His expression twisted into something dark and menacing as he suddenly reached out, his hand clamping around my throat.
“Sharp-tongued as ever, aren’t you?” His voice was a cold whisper, dripping with malice, as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.
“Makenna, tell me—how should I punish you?”
