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Novel Catalog
Chapter_192
Yvette’s gaze never wavered as she studied Charles, his broken body lying motionless on the bed, his voice heavy with regret. Her lips curled into a thin, almost imperceptible smile—one that held no warmth, only the sharp edge of someone who had seen far too much of the world’s darkness.
“Death’s not your choice to make,” Yvette said coldly, her tone unwavering. “You’re not done yet, Charles. You’re not even close.”
Flying Fish, sensing the weight of the moment, stayed silent, but there was a look of concern in his eyes. He could tell that the atmosphere between Yvette and Charles was thick, like a knife’s edge ready to slice through the tension at any moment. He had never seen Yvette like this before—not this calm, not this detached. She was a force, but at this moment, she was also something else—unreachable.
Charles’ heart raced, a rush of emotions flooding him. He had never seen Yvette so distant, so unemotional. It was as though she had put a wall between them, a barrier built from the years of betrayal, manipulation, and the brutal choices he had made. He had known her as someone fierce, but never someone cold. She had always been there for him—until now.
“Yve, I…” Charles paused, his voice breaking slightly. “I don’t deserve—”
“Shut up,” Yvette cut him off sharply, her words slicing through the room like a blade. “Save your apologies. You don’t get to make that decision. If you’re still breathing, you’re still useful. And I’m not done with you yet.”
Flying Fish raised an eyebrow, glancing at Yvette, but he didn’t interrupt. He had learned long ago not to question her when she was like this. Her voice had a finality to it that made it clear she had already made up her mind.
Yvette leaned forward, her eyes dark and calculating. “You’re going to get better, Charles. You will recover, whether you like it or not. And when you do, you’ll owe me—big time.”
Charles wanted to protest, to argue that he wasn’t worthy of any more of her time, that he was beyond saving, but he was too weak to form the words. He could feel the burning sensation in his chest, a sign that the poison was still at work inside him, slowing his mind, numbing his body.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I do want to make things right, somehow.”
Yvette’s eyes flicked toward Flying Fish, who was now standing by the door, as if waiting for orders. “The antidote will be here tomorrow. I’ll make sure you have a chance. But don’t think for a second that you’re off the hook. You owe me your life, Charles. You owe me everything.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, its rhythmic beat filling the silence.
Flying Fish, sensing the conversation had come to a standstill, cleared his throat. “Alright, boss. I’ll make sure everything’s set for tomorrow.”
Yvette didn’t reply at first. She stood up slowly, her movements precise and graceful as always. “You know the drill,” she said to Flying Fish, her voice returning to its usual calm and collected tone. “Keep everything tight. We don’t need any more surprises.”
Flying Fish nodded, understanding the unspoken message. It wasn’t just Charles’ life that was hanging in the balance now. There were too many people involved, too many players in this game. And Yvette was already thinking three steps ahead.
As Yvette turned to leave the room, she paused for a second, glancing back at Charles with an unreadable expression. “Don’t disappoint me, Charles,” she said, her words cutting through the air like a warning. “You’ll regret it if you do.”
With that, she walked out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving Charles to reflect on the words she’d just spoken.
Flying Fish lingered for a moment, watching Charles with a mixture of pity and amusement. He knew better than to speak out of turn, especially in front of Yvette. But something about this situation felt… off.
As he turned to follow Yvette, he paused and said quietly, “Yve’s not the same, huh?”
Charles didn’t respond, but the feeling of isolation gnawed at him. He had been through hell, but now he was trapped in a situation where his survival depended not just on him, but on Yvette’s decisions. And she had made it clear—his life wasn’t his own anymore.
Outside, the city of Mysonna buzzed with life. The streets were filled with people going about their business, oblivious to the hidden world of danger and intrigue that existed just beneath the surface. Yvette was already back in the driver’s seat of her car, her mind focused on the task ahead.
The designs Sienna had sent her echoed in her thoughts. “Nameless.” It wasn’t just the name of a collection—it was a message, an enigma wrapped in simplicity. Yvette knew that Sienna was clever, but this name… it was more than just a lack of inspiration. It felt like a statement. A reflection of something deeper—perhaps something even darker.
Yvette’s phone buzzed again. A message from Sienna.
“I think you should take a look at the feedback from the international committee. The buzz about the designs is already growing. People are starting to talk about Vibe in a way they never have before. This could be big.”
Yvette’s lips twitched into a small smile, though her eyes remained focused on the road ahead. “Nameless.” Maybe Sienna was onto something after all.
She replied with a simple, concise message:
“I’ll be in touch. Focus on the competition. We’ll talk soon.”
Her phone buzzed again almost immediately. Sienna had sent another message.
“Yve, I really think this collection is something special. If we play our cards right, we could make waves.”
Yvette let out a soft laugh, her gaze hardening as she gripped the steering wheel. “I always play my cards right.”
And with that, she drove off into the night, the city’s lights flashing around her like the scattered pieces of a puzzle she was about to solve.
