As Ivy watched them go, she curled up in the corner of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, silent, refusing to engage with the buzz-cut thug guarding her. Only now did she know the guy’s name was Jack.
She was especially longing for Balfour's arrival, wondering if he would rescue her.
When those two goons brought in the culprit, she was supposed to make the transfer.
But the credit limit on the card Balfour gave her was maxed out, and if he did not show up in time, she was afraid this time she might...
A sourness tickled Ivy's nose, but she knew tears were the last thing she needed.
Yet, she could not help but remember the previous night at home, with Balfour and herself each at their desks, buried in their work.
They did not talk much, and Balfour's affections were for someone else, but just being in the same room with him, sitting in silence, was enough to give Ivy a sense of peace.
This stark contrast between the warmth of the Howard residence and the chilling, unfinished building she was in now was almost too much to bear.
She yearned to leave this place, return to the Howard family home, and sleep soundly in her own bed.
Just moments ago, she had been mentally exhausted from dealing with the thugs, and now, though she had caught her breath, she could not truly relax, leaning powerless against the wall.
The damp, cold odor seeped from the stained wall, causing Ivy to furrow her brow involuntarily.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack flipping a switchblade, a silent warning that any thoughts of escape were futile.
Meanwhile, Raven had texted Clara to come downstairs.
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