Chapter 37

“We’re going to remove your dress so we can look at the surface of your skin,” Williams whispered, her voice husky and vile. “I want to see your sweat, your chills. I want to feel the heat radiating from your perspiration.”

Adeline began to sob, her face already throbbing from the twin slaps, tears mixing with the slick residue on her cheeks. Williams’ physical strength, enhanced by the sheer release of her psychological restraints, was terrifying.

Williams grabbed the bottom of Adeline’s silk dress and ripped it downward, slightly exposing her bra. She reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and drew out a small, surgical-grade penknife. She paused, the silver blade catching the low light.

“There.” She brought the knife down, slicing cleanly through one of Adeline’s fragile shoulder straps.

At that exact, critical moment, the pager in Romaric’s hand vibrated violently.

Romaric knocked once on the door, a sharp, questioning sound that was swallowed by the house. He received no answer. The noise barely registered with Williams, who, driven by a destructive impulse, was going to the very end of her clinical objectives.

Adeline, in a desperate surge of adrenaline, shoved Williams away with all her strength.

“Stop!”

“Don’t move!” Williams bellowed.

Romaric hesitated for a split second, then his hand plunged the door open. He crossed the threshold, his eyes instantly taking in the scene: the shattered carafe on the floor, the overturned furniture, and Williams pressing Adeline against the wall, the sharp glint of the knife now held loosely in her hand.

“Madam!” Romaric’s voice was a loud, desperate command that finally penetrated the chemical haze.

Williams turned slowly, her expression a mask of displeasure at the interruption. She stared at Romaric for an unbearable moment, then, the impulse broken, she stepped back from Adeline.

“Sorry,” Williams said, her voice now flat, utterly drained. “Sorry I got very close.”

Adeline, stripped of her composure and physically injured, was petrified, gasping for breath, the severed strap dangling uselessly.

“So, we’ve observed all three phases,” Williams added, returning to her clinical monologue as if nothing had happened. Then she turned and walked toward the door, patting Romaric’s shoulder dismissively. “We’re going home.”

Romaric glanced at the visibly trembling Adeline, who gave a quick, almost panicked gesture for him to leave. He obeyed instantly, turning and running to the car, only to find Williams had already collapsed inside.

During the ride, Romaric constantly monitored Williams in the rearview mirror. She was frozen, staring blankly out the window, her features slackening. The sudden, violent expenditure of energy, combined with the chemical crash, left her utterly exhausted. Her eyes slowly closed.

They arrived at the mansion. Williams was unresponsive. Romaric opened the door, lifted her lifeless weight, and carried her straight to her room, where he gently deposited her. He left immediately, and a silent staff member entered to cover her with a blanket.

Once outside, Romaric’s first instinct was to call Adeline, but she didn’t answer. He then checked his phone and saw the urgent message from Polo. The stakes for the men were now lethally high.

It was extremely late. Adeline, despite her pitiful state, the raw, red marks blooming on her face, and her shredded dress, was speeding across the city toward Miss Kai’s lavish villa. Her phone rang repeatedly. It was her husband, but she ignored the demand for stability.

Now she had the truth, partial though it was. She had seen the true, terrifying capacity for violence lurking beneath Williams’ genius. She had successfully diagnosed the fractured soul Madame Kai had tasked her with managing. The danger was no longer a question of professional ethics; it was a matter of survival.

She arrived at Miss Kai’s gates, where stern security guards immediately stopped her. Her voice trembled as she insisted, desperately, on seeing Miss Kai. Fortunately, Miss Kai was not Williams. She was the architect, the manipulator who valued quiet information above all else. Adeline’s distress was enough to grant her entry.

She was led into the heart of the villa, where she sat, her body still shaking, preparing to deliver the most devastating report of her career. Miss Kai had to know. The patient, her daughter, was unstable, chemically volatile, and lethally dangerous.

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