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Chapter_232
In the dead of night, Whitney lay alone in a windowless ward, her body curled beneath the thin, sterile sheets. Her face was ashen, drained of all vitality, and her eyes, unfocused, stared into the abyss, lost in a world of fear and uncertainty. It felt like a nightmare, one she couldn’t wake from—a suffocating, endless loop of isolation and helplessness.
The door creaked open, pulling her from her thoughts. A nurse entered, holding a tray of food in her hands. Her voice was soft, almost too kind. “Ms. Valentine, please eat something.”
Whitney’s gaze flicked over to the tray. Cold leftovers. The food was unappetizing, a cruel mockery of nourishment. A sharp, sudden clarity pierced through her fog. She focused on the nurse, her mind clicking into place. The nurse’s presence now felt unnatural, sinister. Whitney’s eyes narrowed as she asked, her voice sharp with accusation, “Did Elaine send you?”
The nurse’s eye twitched, a brief flash of something beneath the surface, but she quickly masked it, her voice still syrupy sweet. “Ms. Valentine, I’m just a regular nurse. Mr. Lippert has instructed us to take good care of you. Please don’t make things difficult for us.”
Whitney’s heart raced, but she didn’t let it show. With one swift movement, she seized the opportunity—the door cracked open again, just enough. Without thinking, she bolted for it.
But the moment her foot hit the hall, two burly security guards appeared, moving with alarming speed. They seized her immediately, dragging her back into the room with rough hands.
“Let me go! Let me out!” Whitney screamed, her voice wild, desperate, every inch of her body fighting to break free.
The nurse, silent now, moved to tidy the mess, her face unreadable. As the guards held Whitney down, something caught her eye. The surveillance camera in the corner of the room—it dimmed, its light flickering out. A chill swept over her, a deep sense of dread settling into her bones. She wasn’t just being watched; she was being controlled.
A few moments later, the door burst open again. The same nurse returned, her demeanor colder this time, with the two guards following her. This time, she wasn’t holding food. Instead, she carried an IV bag and a syringe.
“Ms. Valentine,” she said, her voice dripping with insincerity, “It’s time for your morning nutrition.”
Whitney’s pulse quickened. She pushed herself upright, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the syringe. “What IV? Show me the prescription first!” she demanded, voice shaky but determined. Her hands instinctively cradled her belly. She wouldn’t let them harm her baby.
The nurse didn’t answer. She merely nodded to the guards, who quickly moved to restrain her, pinning her down with frightening ease. Whitney’s eyes widened in terror as the needle was pressed toward her arm. The nurse’s laugh, dark and mocking, filled her ears. “We’re quite professional at treating depression here, dear. You don’t need to see the prescription. Just know that after a few more shots, your baby will be arriving sooner than expected.”
The words hit Whitney like a thunderclap. Her stomach turned, her vision blurred with panic. She fought against their hold, but it was no use—the needle was already in her vein, and the drug was being pushed into her bloodstream.
“No! No!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with terror. The room spun as the drug coursed through her veins, a sense of helplessness overwhelming her. The nurse retracted the needle, leaving Whitney to collapse back onto the bed, her breath shallow and fast.
The door clicked shut as the nurse left, leaving her alone in the cold, sterile silence of the room. Pain gripped Whitney’s abdomen, sharp and unrelenting. She staggered into the bathroom, desperate to drink water, to flush the drug from her system. Her hands shook as she pressed them to her swollen belly, her mind screaming for her baby’s safety.
When she returned to her room, weakness overtook her, but her resolve remained firm. The surveillance camera blinked back to life, its cold gaze once again fixed on her. Slumping to the floor, she let out a bitter, exhausted laugh, her body trembling.
Elsewhere, Tiana and Valerie were in the middle of a frantic search. They had called everyone they knew—Nolan, Parker—but no one had answers. Every lead ended in a dead end. The urgency in their voices grew with each passing minute.
Tiana dialed Felix’s number over and over, but he wouldn’t pick up. Something was terribly wrong. Her frustration boiled over.
Finally, with no other choice, Tiana hacked into Felix’s address, cornering him into revealing a sliver of the truth. “Madam attacked Mr. Lippert and beat Elaine. The family doctor examined her and diagnosed her with a tendency for depression. Considering the situation, Mr. Lippert had her taken for isolated treatment overnight,” Felix explained reluctantly.
Tiana’s mind raced. Her eyes met Valerie’s. The suspicion that had been growing for days now crystallized into certainty: Elaine was behind this. She had orchestrated everything.
“That blind fool Ludwik…” Tiana hissed, her anger flaring. “Where did he take Whitney?”
Felix hesitated, his eyes flicking away uncomfortably. “Mr. Lippert knows I’m close to Nolan and Parker. He didn’t let me follow. This is a sensitive matter. Anyone who probes too deeply is walking a dangerous path, Ms. Melford. Please, don’t act rashly.”
“Damn it, Whitney is in danger!” Tiana growled, her voice thick with frustration.
Valerie, more composed but no less concerned, cut in, “Do you know where Bryce was taken for questioning in Emperor City? What are the charges? Is it serious? Please, just give us something.”
Felix’s expression darkened. “Bryce had a position in the Emperor City Political Consultative Conference. There’s been embezzlement within the council, and he’s been dragged into the investigation.”
Valerie absorbed the information, her mind calculating the implications. “Bryce will be fine, just detained for some time. Ludwik, though… this is all part of his plan—moving Whitney and causing chaos. It’s a message to Bryce, and it’s clear he doesn’t want anyone probing too deeply into his affairs.”
Tiana’s frustration mounted, but Valerie’s calmness grounded her. Time was running out. They had to act.
Back in the car, Tiana tried frantically to locate the tracker in Whitney’s watch, but it was silent. She had no idea where Whitney had been taken.
Before dawn, Ludwik, consumed with a restless unease, drove for hours to reach the isolated sanatorium deep in the mountains. The place was remote, far from the city’s reach, and he felt the weight of his actions settling over him with every mile.
He slipped into the sterile quiet of the hospital room. Whitney was lying on the bed, pale and worn, her beauty dulled by exhaustion. Her hair was tangled, her face pale, as if every ounce of life had been drained from her. She lay curled protectively on her side, her hand resting on her belly as though even in sleep, she feared for the child within.
Ludwik hesitated, guilt gnawing at him. Was this the right decision? Had he scared her so badly that she now feared him?
Instinctively, he reached out to caress her cheek, but his hand froze mid-air, and he withdrew it sharply. He couldn’t pity her—not after everything she had done. Not after her manipulation.
He sat stiffly beside her, his gaze fixed on her swollen belly. He longed for a cigarette, but he knew it would only feed the anger, the confusion in his chest. Instead, he let the pack fall from his grasp, the sound of it hitting the floor startling Whitney awake. Her eyes shot open, filled with fear.
The door creaked open again, and the doctor entered, followed by the same nurse from the previous night, carrying an IV bag and syringe.
“Ms. Valentine,” the nurse said, her voice still dripping with sweetness, “It’s time for your morning nutrition.”
“What are you doing? That’s not nutrition! You’re trying to induce my labor!” Whitney cried out, her panic rising as she fought against the sheets, thrashing in desperation.
Ludwik moved swiftly to hold her down, his voice soothing but firm. “Whitney, calm down.”
But she wasn’t listening. “Ludwik, your heart is so cruel. They injected me with something last night—Elaine must have bribed them! They’re trying to kill our baby!”
Ludwik’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “What nonsense are you talking about? Elaine has no connection to this place. I found it last minute. There’s no way she could have the doctors in her pocket.”
Elaine, who had been silently standing in the doorway, stepped forward, a sly smile curling her lips as she looked at Whitney. “You’re mistaken, Ms. Valentine. I wasn’t involved in this sanatorium. But I did make sure you were well taken care of.”
“Ludwik, please listen to me!” Whitney’s voice cracked as she pointed toward the security camera. “They’ve been serving me scraps, trying to make me sick. Last night, they turned off the camera, came in, and force-fed me drugs. They’re trying to harm me and the baby! You have to believe me!”
The nurse’s face remained a mask of feigned innocence. “Ms. Whitney, I understand you’re under a lot of stress, but these accusations are unfair. I was simply asking you to eat last night.”
Ludwik’s expression darkened. He gestured sharply for the director to bring up the security footage. The screen flickered to life. The nurse seemed genuinely concerned as she encouraged Whitney to eat, but the footage didn’t tell the whole story. Whitney had knocked the tray to the floor herself. And when the camera had dimmed, the footage cut off.
The nurse explained smoothly, “This is when Ms. Whitney was being assisted with her personal hygiene and changing clothes. Mr. Lippert, we turn off the cameras for privacy. Security personnel still monitor the footage live, and if there’s an issue, the director can arrange for 24-hour surveillance.”
Whitney’s frustration grew, her face pale with fear. But Ludwik, unsure of what to believe, took a deep breath. “Test the IV bag’s contents now. If there’s anything wrong with it, I will move you to another hospital immediately.”
He had to get to the bottom of this—for the baby. For the truth.
