Chapter 8: No Knight in Shining Armor

"Dear," his voice slithered through the air, cold and serpentine, sending shivers cascading down Charlotte's spine. She paid no mind to the gaunt figure before her, her gaze instead drawn to the macabre collection adorning the wall behind him. "With these tools, dear, I shall craft your torment, one by one. But fear not, we have all the time in the world," he crooned with twisted anticipation. The man slowly squatted down, his expression almost crazed. A chilling touch at her ankle snapped Charlotte's attention downward; he was fitting an instrument with vicious teeth around her delicate skin. "It might sting a bit, but that's alright. Once I pierce through your ankle, no amount of pain will carry you away from me," he murmured. Sicko. The rumors were true; this guy was a complete psycho. "What if I manage to flee? Will you refund the $400,000?" she challenged, her query halting his movements momentarily. His laughter, dark and frosty, resumed. "There's no escape for you, dear..." Before he could finish speaking, Charlotte delivered a knee strike to his nose. As he reeled back in pain, she seized the moment to dash behind him, grabbed a small hammer she had eyed earlier from a wall of props, and swung it hard against the back of the man's head! A single cry escaped him before unconsciousness claimed his form. The room reeked of blood and felt stuffy. Charlotte gripped the hammer tightly, panting heavily. She didn't dare to fight back when there were four or five guys earlier, but now, with only one weakling left, it would be foolish not to take her chance. Suppressing her fear, she secured the door to prevent any intruders, then stood guard over the prone figure, alert to any sign of awakening. She can't go out now; there are too many people, she won't be able to escape. Her phone was taken away, and she can't call the cops, so all she can do is wait for Liam to come and save her. But she waited from evening until the early hours of the morning, her emotions shifting from fear to calm, even as the psycho woke up twice during that time. Liam did not come. The first light of dawn filtered through the basement window, and with it came the unwelcome realization: Liam would not be her savior. Even as an employee, wasn't she owed the slightest bit of concern in a moment of crisis? Even as just an employee, shouldn't he at least pay some attention to a call for help in a critical situation? Or perhaps... an urgent matter had prevented him from receiving her plea for help? Charlotte rose unsteadily, navigating her escape from the pig farm to the outskirts and from there, under the relentless sun, to the bustle of the city. The cacophony of urban life wrapped around her like a security blanket. At the crossroads, she hesitated, uncertain of her next move. After a long pause, she ventured to a store and purchased a new phone. After getting her phone back, she didn't think about calling the police. Instead, she ran away, knowing that Griffin would definitely go after Robert to get back the $400,000. Robert, waiting on that money to pay off gambling debts, would never return it. By then, it would be a real dog-eat-dog situation. Just as she put her SIM card back in, she received a call from Henry. "Miss Perry, was there an issue last night?" his voice inquired, adding ice to her veins. Henry's words confirmed her worst fear: Liam had chosen to ignore her distress. Her silence spoke volumes. Henry quickly added, "The fireworks show last night had Mr. Parker rushing to pick up Miss Beaumont... But he did express concern for you, asking me to check on you." Wasn't this concern a tad too late? If she hadn't been so fiercely determined, she might have met a grisly fate at the hands of her captor last night. "I'm... I'm fine, just a little accident," she lied. However, hearing the name Chloe made Charlotte suddenly realize how shameful her actions had been. Liam was Chloe's fiancé, and she was just a mistress and one whose affair with him had already ended at that. What right did she have to expect Liam to come to her rescue? "Henry, I'm not feeling well today. I'd like to take a day off." "Of course, get some rest." Leave secured, Charlotte found refuge in a hotel, shrouded in blankets, trembling with the aftershocks of her ordeal. She had struck the madman three times; would he come seeking retribution? What vile schemes awaited her now that Robert's funds would be reclaimed? Fear and regret nearly drowned her. And in this bleak hour, she was utterly alone. —— At the break of dawn, Charlotte collected her scattered thoughts and, with a cup of coffee that was more truce than refreshment in hand, ventured into the lion's den—the CEO's office. Liam's reception was a paradox, his eyes betraying a flash of intrigue at her appearance, yet his tongue delivered nothing but venom. "Miss Perry, I imagined someone of your so-called integrity would have cut all ties and disappeared by now. Are the golden shackles of a Parker Group paycheck really that hard to let go of?" The paycheck was indeed a fortune for the menial tasks of sweeping floors and brewing coffee—four thousand a month was a handsome sum for such simplicity. "Yes," she admitted, her voice tight with frustration, not realizing this would fuel Liam's displeasure even more. She passed up on him, a veritable gold mine, and instead went after the measly assistant's pay. Liam looked Charlotte over carefully, noticing that she seemed to be physically unharmed. He then remembered the emergency call he had seen that morning. Last night during dinner, Liam had run into someone he knew and left his phone on the table. Chloe, in his absence, set up a missed call alert for him. It wasn't until the morning that she told him about the strange call received the night before. After seeing the emergency call notification, Liam immediately had someone look for Charlotte, only to discover that she was out shopping. Did she make the emergency call just to disrupt his date with Chloe? "With all due respect, try not to cry wolf next time...unless you'd like me to believe it's deliberate," he insinuated, a threat veiled thinly in his tone. Charlotte's fists clenched. She wanted to defend herself but saw no point in it. There was a time when she harbored naive fantasies about Liam, wondering if proximity might breed affection. But with Chloe's entrance and their impending marriage, those daydreams had dispersed like mist. However, since Chloe appeared on the scene and upon learning that he would become engaged and married to Chloe, any such fantasy had completely vanished. Chloe might or might not be her sister, but Charlotte had no intention of unraveling another's love story. "I overstepped. It won't happen again," she apologized softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mr. Parker, my wishes for your and Miss Beaumont's wedded bliss are genuine." His response was a scoff that spread a frosty silence through the room. Just then, Henry's knock pierced the tension, announcing the arrival of a gift meant for Miss Beaumont. A gift for Chloe? Charlotte interjected hurriedly, "I'll go deliver it!" Realizing her eagerness might be misinterpreted, she quickly justified, "It's the least I can do to make amends for almost ruining Miss Beaumont's evening." Liam's expression darkened further. "How noble of you, Charlotte," he sneered. "Go on, deliver it. I'm curious just how deep your well-wishes really run." Lately, Liam's moods had been as unpredictable as a tempest, his anger erupting without warning. Charlotte didn't dare to provoke him further, quickly taking the gift and making her escape. As Charlotte arrived, Chloe was mid-bath, and upon hearing of a gift from Liam, she bounded down, clad only in a towel, her hair casting a sprinkle of droplets across the floor. "Is it a ring?" Chloe bubbled over with excitement, her voice echoing through the hallway. Charlotte passed the box to her, trying not to let her gaze linger too long. The resemblance. Chloe's visage was a mirror of her own, uncannily so. But as Charlotte's memory served, her sister bore more of a likeness to Robert while she was the spitting image of Maria. How strange that the reflections told a different tale now.