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Chapter_162
Keegan’s men swarmed the vehicle, blocking the path with a practiced precision that sent a wave of dread crashing over Natalie. Her heart raced as the air grew thick with tension. She could feel something was terribly wrong, though her mind struggled to process what was unfolding. The sharp click of car doors locking reverberated through the streets, amplifying her unease, marking the beginning of something far darker than she had anticipated.
The car ground to a halt. One of Keegan’s henchmen approached with deliberate steps, his expression as cold and unreadable as the night. Though frail and weakened by her illness, Natalie could not afford to let herself be intimidated. She gathered every ounce of remaining strength, her resolve hardening like stone.
“Let us through!” she demanded, her voice quivering but carrying a note of authority. She had to reach Whitney—had to ensure her grandchild’s safety, no matter the cost. “This is an emergency!”
The man did not respond immediately, his gaze briefly sweeping over the driver, whose hands gripped the steering wheel as though it were his only tether to reality, and then over Taryn, who sat motionless in the passenger seat, eyes wide and filled with silent panic.
Finally, the henchman motioned for the car to open. His silence spoke volumes. This was no coincidence. This was all part of Keegan’s plan.
“Mrs. Lippert, you’ve been ordered to stay put,” he said, his tone laced with finality. “Mr. Tennyson is not finished with you yet.”
Natalie’s breath caught in her throat. The words hit her like a physical blow. “Keegan?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as panic seeped into her words. “What does he want with me?”
The henchman remained tight-lipped, but the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. They weren’t here for a conversation. They were here to control her—every move, every breath—like a puppet on a string. Her mind spun with confusion and rising fear. This was all part of Keegan’s game.
Meanwhile, at the police station, Ludwik sat, the weight of his situation bearing down on him. As expected, he was being interrogated in connection with the financial ruin surrounding Imperial Gem Corporation. His reputation had been shattered in the wake of the public scandal—the rumors of Whitney embezzling funds only added fuel to the fire. Preliminary evidence was already stacked against him, and it looked like his detainment would stretch far longer than he had anticipated.
But Ludwik wasn’t consumed by thoughts of his own downfall. His focus remained on Whitney—on the cold fury still simmering beneath the surface, directed squarely at the Tennysons and the betrayal that had torn apart everything he had worked for. Love and rage twisted inside him, blending into something dangerous. The question of his empire’s survival seemed trivial compared to the battle brewing in his heart. The scandal at United Realty, the lies surrounding Whitney—they were just pieces in a larger puzzle that he was determined to solve, no matter the cost.
As the minutes dragged on in the sterile interrogation room, Ludwik’s mind raced, plotting his next moves. Little did he know, Keegan’s plans were unfolding with a terrifying swiftness, pulling him into a new conflict far more brutal than anything he had yet experienced.
Back with Keegan, the sinister plot was only beginning to unfold. Keegan, ever the strategist, knew that Ludwik’s greatest weakness was his love for Whitney. It was the perfect leverage. But what Keegan had underestimated was the power of that love. He believed it to be a vulnerability, but love—no matter how twisted or tested—was a force of nature, and sometimes, it could drive a man to do the unthinkable.
Ludwik was finding his resolve once more. The walls were closing in, the pressure mounting with every passing moment. Yet, the fire within him was starting to burn brighter. He was no longer a man consumed by doubt. He was a man who would stop at nothing to reclaim what was his and protect those he loved—even if it meant tearing down everything in his path.
