Chapter 73

The air in Lydia's apartment feels thick, suffocating. The weight of the message on her phone presses down on me like a vice.

My mother—tied up, gagged.

The warning still lingers in my mind.

Drop the case. Or she dies.

My hands shake, but not from fear.

No.

Beneath the terror, something darker coils inside me.

Rage.

Victoria thinks she has control. That she can break me.

She's wrong.

I stare at the phone screen, my knuckles turning white as I tighten my grip. I don't let my emotions show. Not yet. I can feel Lydia's anxious gaze on me, waiting for me to react, to panic.

Michael, however, watches me differently. He leans back against the counter, arms crossed, a knowing smirk curving his lips.

"You're quiet, sweetheart," he muses. "That's either very good… or very bad."

Lydia shoots him a glare. "This isn't the time for games, Michael."

He shrugs, unbothered. "Who said I was playing?"