Chapter 45 — Madeleine's POV Part 1 :
Blood. Everywhere. My hands were slick, my vision doubled, the room spinning as though the floor wanted to throw me down with Marc. I had swung the golf club at his head—swung because if I didn't, he would have hurt them. Anna and Letty had tried to shield me, to drag me out of this poisoned nightmare, but I couldn't let him touch them.
Now Marc lay on the living room floor, blood spreading beneath him like an ugly halo.
Was he dead? Was he still breathing?
I dropped to my knees, shaking so hard my teeth rattled. A sound broke from my throat—raw, cracked, nothing human.
Anna rushed to me, folding me into her arms. Her voice pressed close to my ear, low and steady. "It's okay. You're safe. You're safe." She repeated it until the words blurred.
Letty stood a few feet away, staring at Marc, her face pale and tight. Her dark eyes cut to me, then back to him. She didn't move. None of us breathed right.
Finally, Anna said, "We should call the police."
"No," Letty snapped, stepping toward her. "If they come, they'll interrogate us too. And if they do…" She bent close, whispering something I couldn't hear.
Anna's expression hardened. "But if we don't, he'll die, Letty! We're not like them. Even if he tried to hurt us—we're better than this."
Letty shook her head but didn't answer.
"I'll call," I blurted, my voice shaking. "I'll say I was alone."
"No," Letty said firmly. "They'll know. Cameras are everywhere—on the street, outside your apartment. They'll see us."
At the mention of cameras, Anna's gaze shifted—not to the window, but to the painting in the living room, the Heavenly Fruit tableau that I paint by myself months ago . Her eyes lingered on it as if it carried some unspoken truth. Then she looked back at me.
"Why did you come back, Madeleine?" she asked quietly.
Her question cut through the haze. My chest tightened, but I met her eyes. "Because I miss someone. And you know who it is."
Before either of them could speak, the door opened. A man stepped inside—tall, striking, his blue eyes darkening when they landed on Marc bleeding across my floor. His sigh was sharp, heavy. "This… was not the plan."
A plan. The word made my blood run cold.
Letty moved quickly, her voice urgent. "Madeleine only wanted to help us. He was going to hurt us—"
The man's head snapped toward her, and his expression transformed. His voice thundered, darker than his eyes. "He touched you?" His jaw clenched. "How dare he put even a finger on you? On your shoe?" His hand tightened around hers, fury radiating off him. "This bastard…" His voice dropped, guttural. "I
For a moment, I thought the room itself might split under his rage.
"You didn't tell me this on the phone," he bit out.
Anna stepped in, sharp, urgent. "We don't have time for this. He's dying."
The man crouched, checking Marc's pulse, then straightened. "I'll take him. I know a doctor—someone who'll treat him in private. But no one must know. Not a word." His gaze locked on me. "Especially you. Say nothing. If this comes out, you'll go down harder than us."
He wasn't lying. Even in self-defense, I was the one who swung.
"Please," Letty whispered. "Don't tell anyone. Not even Liam."
"Don't say his name here," I snapped, panic rushing me. "What if Sharon finds out?about me and ..."
"He's loyal," Letty answered quickly. "He's with us."
Anna touched my shoulder gently. "We'll handle Marc. I just hope he survives… if not, this becomes worse than you can imagine."
Tears blurred my vision. Then Anna pulled gloves from her bag—calm, efficient, terrifying. "I need to take the golf club. It's evidence." She slid the gloves on and lifted it carefully, wrapping it with precision.
"You think of everything," Letty muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
The man's patience snapped. "We don't have time to admire each other. Move."
Immediately, they acted. Anna crouched to lift Marc's head, the man carried his body, and Letty checked the hallway for neighbors.
"There's a back exit," I told them quickly. "No one ever uses it. Go that way."
Letty nodded. Together, they carried Marc into the hallway, moving swiftly toward the rear of the building, disappearing through the back door.
And then it was only me.
The living room was wrecked—furniture overturned, glass broken, blood soaking the carpet. My stomach twisted. I hadn't wanted this. I wasn't a monster. I only wanted to escape. To breathe. To live.
But now… I had created something that could never be undone.
I shut the door softly, like sealing away a secret, and whispered to myself, I need to clean this.
Jason Caldwell — POV Part 2:
"Hey, babe." I said it as soon as I finished answering Scarlett's call, meaning to add, I was about to call you — do you want to go to… but she cut me off.
"I need you right now. In Madeleine's apartment. I'm sending you the location." Her voice snapped like a wire.
"Are you okay?" I shouted, heart jumping.
Scarlett exhaled, shaky. "Yes. Don't worry about me. But Marc — Madeleine's ex — he's not okay." She hurried through the words. "Just come. He needs a doctor. Someone who can check him privately. No police."
Silence hung for a second while my brain tried to catch up. "What happened? Explain."
"I told you what you need to know, babe. Do you have a doctor who can help us or not?"
Relief and dread collided. "Yes. I have a friend — Dr. Nikolai Skovalki. He'll help. He won't say no. He's an old friend."
"Perfect. Call him and come now." She hung up. Her voice had been all tremors; I couldn't tell if it was fear, anger, or both. I kept replaying the image in my head: Marc hurt on the floor. Who'd done it? Scarlett? Julia? Madeleine? Or did he do it to himself? All I knew was Marc was a violent stalker — and if he'd hurt Scarlett, I'd tear him apart.
I dialed Nikolai without thinking. "Hey, Nikolai. You there?"
"Jason, mate! Long time. Where are you? How've you been?" His voice was warm, easy.
"Fine. Sorry to call out of the blue, but I need you urgently."
"Hope you're okay. What's wrong?"
"Do you still do secret checks and operations for private clients?"
"Yes… why?"
"I need you today. Urgent."
"Okay, but bring him to your place i will come to you "
" Bring him to my place, ? "
"yes—your place.t—" he said then Nikolai cut in. "Also Where's the patient injured and with what? I need details."
"I don't know yet , Meet me at my apartment in thirty minutes. I'll bring you the patient. "
"Alright, mate. See you then."
I hung up, slammed my phone into the holder, and started the engine. The drive replayed Scarlett's breathless words on loop. My hands clenched the wheel.
Madeleine's building was exactly like i imagined : rustic, oddly cozy — older stone, a bit lived-in, not fancy but full of life. The address said fifth floor. I parked, grabbed my jacket, and went in, every step hammering with the same question: what had happened inside that apartment?