Chapter 29: Narrow Escape
Chapter 29: Narrow Escape
Love Wendy?
Steven’s face went dark. Impossible.
In his eyes, Wendy wasn’t worth even a strand of Queenie’s hair.
Yet, despite the thought, being called out like that pricked his pride.
He clamped a hand around Wendy’s neck, grinding out:
“I’m giving you a chance. If you don’t cherish it, don’t even think about stepping into the Steven house again.”
“I don’t care to!”
Wendy’s eyes burned red. “What’s so great about the Price family? I’ve had enough! If you’ve got a shred of humanity left, stop bothering me and get out. Get out!”
Her complete loss of control startled him–it was the first time he’d seen Wendy like this.
For the Harry father and son, she actually dared to challenge him in public.
Jaw tight, he released her and tossed a final warning over his shoulder:
“If you really give up being Mrs. Price for them, you’ll regret it.”
“Get. Out.”
Rage rang in her skull. She would never regret it–she couldn’t wait to cut all ties.
“Doctor Ulrich, are you all right?” a bodyguard asked, worried.
Her brain still buzzed with fury. She waved him off.
“I’m fine. Once I finish up here, we leave for Miami immediately.”
Out in the hall, Queenie had witnessed everything. She bit down so hard her jaw ached.
She’d tried to invite Steven to dinner–he’d refused, then come here to find that woman.
She’d hoped to ruin Wendy with the OR incident, but the Miami crown prince himself had spoken up for her.
Damn it. Next time, she wouldn’t let Wendy slip the noose.
After work, Wendy returned to her hotel.
Harry’s phone remained unreachable; worry chewed at her.
It was because of her that trouble had found him, and she owed him too many favors already–how would she ever face him again?
Exhaustion finally dragged her under.
She woke, choking on thick smoke.
01:43
My Ex Called Me the Heln Now I’m Untouchable
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Chapter 29: Narrow Escape
Heat pressed in from all sides; flames licked from a corner, roaring higher.
Fire.
She sprang from bed and lunged for the door. The handle wouldn’t budge. Locked.
“Cough–cough!” Smoke boiled through the room. She covered her nose and mouth, eyes sweeping the layout.
The door and even the bathroom side were ablaze. Only the balcony remained.
Fifth floor. No awnings below. A jump meant broken bones–better than death.
She set her jaw, squeezed her eyes shut, and moved to vault over-
When a shadow surged from behind the curtain, a hand clamped her throat and slammed her onto the railing.
Bloodshot eyes, a warped face-
A stranger. A mad dog. A killer.
So the arson might fail, and they’d sent someone to finish the job.
Blackness tugged at the edges of her vision; oxygen fled her lungs. She kicked viciously for his groin, but he was too strong, pinning her, crushing out
her breath.
Her eyes rolled; the world went white-
Bang!
The door burst inward. Boots pounded.
Saved, she thought dimly–then darkness swallowed her.
When she came to, she was in a hospital bed on an IV.
“Doctor Ulrich, you’re finally awake,” a bodyguard said at her side.
Wendy opened her mouth; no sound came. Her eyes stung.
“The doctor examined you,” the man explained. “You inhaled a lot of smoke, and your neck was nearly crushed. Your airway’s damaged–you’ll need time before you can speak again.”
She exhaled shakily. Alive. That was enough.
“Mr. Robinson also left you a letter.”
Harry? Had he resolved things already?
If so, why a letter instead of a call? Which meant–he couldn’t use electronics right now.
She unfolded it. Bold, forceful handwriting. Just one line:
“Come to Miami.”
She closed her eyes, thinking fast.
She had planned to wait for the divorce certificate, then go. But staying meant more danger. Better to leave first, settle in Miami, then arrange the paperwork.
My Ex Called Me the Help. Now I’m Untouchable
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Chapter 29: Narrow Escape
“When do we depart?” she wrote on her phone.
“In two hours,” the bodyguard said. “A helicopter will land on the hospital roof.”
So soon? Good. She had no attachment left to this place–or its people.
“And the man who attacked me?”
“We caught him. He confessed–Queenie ordered the hit.”
Again. Queenie.
Would the woman only rest when Wendy was dead?
Wendy’s fingers tightened in the sheets, eyes sparking with fury.
If Queenie wanted a war–fine. She’d pay.
“Help me do something.”
Thirty minutes later, evidence of Queenie’s murder–for–hire hit the internet, detonating a firestorm.
“Isn’t Queenie Mr. Price’s sister–in–law? He treats her awfully well–ignored his own wife for her, they say.”
“Sister–in–law? Please. She’s the homewrecker. The rumors were everywhere. The real wife, Wendy, is the tragic one!”
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