Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter_102
Ludwik’s eyes narrowed, his features hardening into a mask of stone. The air seemed to chill as Elaine’s words echoed in his mind. For a moment, silence reigned—then he stood.
The chair scraped back violently as he rose, the motion abrupt, like a dam bursting. The always-composed Ludwik was gone. In his place stood a man on the verge of eruption, fury radiating from him like heat from a fire barely contained.
“Where is she?” he asked, voice low and calm—too calm. It was the kind of calm that came before destruction.
Before anyone could answer, Ludwik was already moving, his strides long and driven. The thud of his footsteps resounded down the hall like a war drum.
“Ludwik, wait!” Nolan called, rising from his seat, alarm written across his face. But the plea fell flat. Ludwik was already gone.
Elaine watched him disappear, her expression unreadable. Yet beneath the surface, there was a glint—cold, satisfied. She had played her cards precisely. She knew Ludwik’s feelings for Whitney were volatile, unresolved. This was the trigger she had been waiting for. Now, all that remained was to watch it unfold.
Outside, in the shadows of the garden, Whitney was fighting her own battle. Her limbs felt like lead, her thoughts sluggish and frayed. The antidote was beginning to take effect, but not fast enough. Her vision wavered, the darkness pressing in, but the flame inside her refused to die out.
Mr. Wendt’s voice sliced through the air, mocking and full of menace.
“You really thought you could get away?” he sneered, dragging her farther into the garden. His grip was bruising, each step taking her deeper into isolation. “No one’s coming for you. No one ever does.”
The frigid night air bit at her skin, but even that couldn’t clear the fog from her mind. She stumbled, barely able to resist, her body still fighting to recover from the drug’s grip.
Then the door creaked open behind them.
She was thrown forward, landing hard on the bed in the dimly lit guest room. Her breath caught in her throat as pain flared in her side. Another man stood in the doorway—Dante. His expression twisted with amusement as he stepped inside, closing the distance with predatory ease.
“You’ve had a long night,” he said, the cruel smile never touching his eyes.
As they closed in, Whitney’s mind screamed for escape—but her body betrayed her, too slow to respond. Then, a sound—distant but growing louder—stirred the silence.
“Wait,” Dante hissed, suddenly alert. “Did you hear that?”
Both men paused.
A heartbeat later, the door burst open.
Ludwik filled the doorway like a force of nature, framed in shadow, his presence colder than the wind outside. He took in the scene in an instant—Whitney, crumpled and weak, the men standing over her like predators—and something inside him snapped.
His eyes locked on Mr. Wendt, and what lay within them was pure, unfiltered rage.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, his voice a blade.
Neither man answered. They didn’t get the chance.
Ludwik moved.
In a flash, he was across the room. Mr. Wendt barely had time to react before Ludwik seized him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. The impact rattled the room.
“Touch her again,” Ludwik growled, “and I swear, you won’t walk out of here alive.”
Dante stepped back instinctively, hands raised, the smirk wiped clean from his face. He saw what Mr. Wendt hadn’t—the danger, the fury boiling just beneath Ludwik’s surface. This wasn’t business. This was personal.
Ludwik dropped Mr. Wendt like discarded trash, turning toward Whitney with urgency written across his face. Seeing her like that—helpless, broken—it gutted him.
He knelt beside the bed, his hands trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Whitney,” he breathed her name like a vow, voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry…”
Her eyes fluttered open, the haze slowly clearing. For a heartbeat, she stared at him. And then—
“Get away from me,” she whispered, her voice rasping, broken and sharp.
The words cut deep. But Ludwik didn’t move.
He reached for her hand and held it gently, refusing to let go.
“No,” he said, steady and firm. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”
The silence between them was deafening. Her pain. His guilt. All of it hung in the air like a stormcloud waiting to burst.
Behind them, the two men cowered in silence, irrelevant now.
Ludwik’s gaze never wavered. He saw her pain, the betrayal in her eyes, the questions that demanded answers. But beneath it all, he saw something else—a sliver of strength. A part of her still holding on.
And that was enough.
He didn’t know what the future would bring, or if she would ever forgive him. But one thing was certain.
He would never let her face danger alone again.
