Abbie glanced at her phone. Laurence's text read, "Baby, I'm waiting for you in the room. Hurry up, don't keep me waiting. After tonight, you'll be the third female lead in this film." She bit her lip, a mix of humiliation and resentment warring within her. Resigned, she walked toward the room.
Meanwhile, Felicia wandered through the palace's labyrinthine corridors, struggling to find an exit. She'd taken a wrong turn, and now faced a heavy black door, a dead end. Frozen, she considered turning back, but the approaching sound of bodyguards' footsteps sealed her fate. Earlier, while fleeing, she'd glimpsed Dexter, Myra, and Arnold leaving, closely followed by Sebastian, who'd promised to help Kayla. They'd all seen Kayla's self-inflicted wrist wound and were rushing to her aid. Biting her lip, Felicia knew she had to confront them. In her panic, she missed the intricate, ancient patterns on the door—a silent warning in the dim light. Suddenly, the door swung open, a strong hand pulling her inside.
Disoriented, before she could react, a hot body pressed against her, pinning her to the door. A raspy voice whispered urgently, "Help me, and I'll repay you." Felicia's eyes widened in shock. Before she could protest, her lips were silenced. Damn it!
The bodyguards reached the corridor to find it empty. "What the hell? Where is she?" "I saw her run in here! There's no other way out. Could she have jumped out a window?" They bickered. Unbeknownst to them, just beyond a door, Felicia was pinned against a wall, her cries muffled in the darkness.
The lead bodyguard shouted, "Shut up! Keep looking! There's another door here. She might have gone through it!" Several bodyguards moved to force it open, but Larry Pearson, Pristine Hall's manager, arrived with subordinates, blocking their path. "Gentlemen, this is a private area belonging to my boss. No one is allowed to enter! Please leave!"
The bodyguards snickered. "Do you know who's hosting today's banquet? The Lawson family—the foremost of Khogend's four prestigious families! We've lost Mrs. Lawson. If we don't find her, you won't like the consequences!"
Larry simply smiled. "If you dare to trespass, I fear the Lawson family won't like the consequences." His casual words held undeniable intimidation.
The bodyguard, hesitant, exchanged a glance with his companion, who quickly called Matthew. Matthew's furious response echoed, "How can you not keep an eye on a young lady? What good are you if you can't even manage that?" Despite his rage, reason prevailed.
The identity of Pristine Hall's owner remained a mystery, a symbol of wealth and status where Khogend's elite celebrated. Its very existence had drawn jealous eyes and numerous failed takeover attempts, proving its owner's formidable power, especially considering their disregard for the Lawson family—a power possibly originating from Seldvale.