The Heiress He Left to Die

Chapter 3

Avery's POV:

The shock on Caleb's face lasted exactly two seconds.

Soon enough, his brow furrowed, and impatience flickered in his eyes.

"Avery, is this really necessary? Are you still jealous that we took care of Sylvia first?"

He took a step forward, his gaze darting around, never quite meeting mine. His tone carried a perfunctory note of explanation.

"Sylvia has been frail since childhood. She can't handle that kind of ordeal. You're her older sister. What's wrong with giving her a little consideration?"

Before he could finish, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate frantically.

It was a video call from Whitmore.

The moment he answered, a tearful voice came through.

"Caleb, my panic disorder is acting up again. I'm so scared, I can only feel safe when you're with me."

Caleb's expression changed instantly, panic flooding his features.

He hurriedly bent down, his fingertips brushing my cheek in a fleeting gesture.

"I need to check on Sylvia first. There's also something at the office. We'll talk about the divorce when I get back."

With that, he grabbed his bag and strode toward the door. His leather shoes struck the floor in rapid succession.

From beginning to end, he never once glanced at the cast on my left leg.

I watched his silhouette disappear into the entryway.

My lips twitched into the faintest bitter smile.

I gripped my crutch and stood, intending to head to the office and retrieve the core project data.

The cast on my left leg knocked against the step, sending a sharp, piercing pain through the wound. Cold sweat rolled down my temples as I leaned against the wall, waiting for the pain to subside.

I had just reached a secluded alley below the office building when a familiar figure flashed past the mouth of the alley. Before I could get a clear look, a dull pain struck the back of my neck.

My vision went black, and I collapsed onto the cold ground.

When I regained consciousness, I was surrounded by darkness.

My hands and feet were bound with coarse hemp rope that bit painfully into my skin. My back pressed against a cold metal surface.

I had been stuffed beneath a car.

The smell of motor oil mingled with a familiar fragrance that invaded my nostrils. It was the anniversary gift I had given Caleb last year, a custom limited edition.

He had said he only wore it on important occasions.

The vehicle suddenly began to shake violently, rocking up and down. The faint rustle of fabric mixed with a man's low laughter.

And a woman's suppressed giggle.

It was Caleb, and Sylvia was with him.

I heard Sylvia murmur that once I was completely gone, the Whitmore family would be all theirs.

Caleb didn't object. The car above me only shook more violently.

A chill shot from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head, freezing me to the bone. The last trace of warmth left in my heart went completely cold.

I clenched my teeth and scraped the rope binding my wrists against the rough ground. The hemp frayed through my skin, drawing beads of blood.

I had just managed to break free and was about to crawl out when the vehicle, shaking violently, suddenly lurched backward down the slope.

They hadn't engaged the handbrake.

The heavy wheel rolled directly over my torso.

Agony swept through my body like a tidal wave, as though every bone had shattered.

In the final second before my consciousness plunged into darkness, I heard Caleb's panicked shout.