The Grand Regent Hotel was one of the Thomas Group’s flagship properties.
When Marina was taken away by the Thomas family’s bodyguards, she had no idea where they were taking her.
“Where’s Jonathan? Please, I’m begging you–just let me see Jonathan. Just one more time, that’s all I’m asking…”
Her voice was trembling, choked with tears. But the bodyguards ignored her entirely, their faces unreadable.
Finally, as they marched her out of the elevator, she caught sight of a familiar figure.
Prescott.
“Prescott!” Marina cried out, as if she’d glimpsed a lifeline in a raging sea. She strained against the guards, desperate to reach him. “Prescott! Where’s Jonathan? Jonathan’s here to see me, isn’t he? I knew he wouldn’t just abandon me like this…”
Her frantic plea echoed down the hotel corridor.
Prescott approached, hands tucked calmly in his pockets, his demeanor cold and utterly unhurried. For the first time, Marina saw sheer contempt and icy indifference written across his face.
“Do you really think you’re even worthy to speak Mr. Thomas’s name?”
He didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he handed a keycard to the lead bodyguard. “Room 4078. He’s waiting inside. Just take her in.”
As soon as Prescott said this, Marina’s face drained of color.
“Who’s waiting? Isn’t it Jonathan? Who are you handing me over to?” Her voice rose, panic twisting her features as she tried to catch someone’s eye. But neither Prescott nor the bodyguards gave her the courtesy of an answer.
Prescott didn’t even bother to follow; he just stood at the far end of the hallway, silently watching as the guards dragged the struggling Marina to the door of room
- 4078.
The door beeped and swung open. The guards shoved her inside.
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Marina no chance to escape. Before
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she could recover, a man seized her by the hair and yanked her into the suite.
It was Drake–the infamous boss of The Vipers‘ Nest.
“Drake…” Marina’s whole body quaked. Her face was so pale she looked as if every drop of blood had been drained from her veins.
“Marina. We meet again.” Drake sat calmly, cigar in hand, beckoning her with a single crooked finger.
Marina shrank back, terror etched across her face. She knew just how brutal Drake
could be.
“No… please, no…” she whimpered, suddenly spinning around and screaming at the door, “Lock me up! Please! I’m the one who tried to hurt Niamh–just let Jonathan send me to prison!”
Down the corridor, Prescott heard Marina’s desperate screams.
He just shook his head.
He felt no sympathy for Marina–none at all.
He knew what she’d done in Blackspire for the Vipers‘ Nest. From any angle, it seemed clear she’d been forced into it. Yet, pity was hard to muster.
After all, Marina herself had chosen to go to Blackspire, alone.
Prescott’s investigation had already uncovered the truth: Marina was never Jonathan’s long–lost first love. The story had been a lie from the start, yet she’d dared to use the threat of leaving the country to try and force Jonathan to abandon his own grandfather. In the end, everything that had happened was Marina’s own doing.
If she hadn’t been so clever for her own good–if she hadn’t broken things off with Jonathan all those years ago–maybe, just maybe, she could have become the lady of the Thomas family by now.
Prescott knew Jonathan well.
Everything Marina had done–every scheme, every manipulation–had struck right at Jonathan’s deepest sore spots.
That’s why Jonathan had deliberately refused to send her to prison.
For Marina now, prison would be a mercy.
So, instead, Jonathan had ordered Prescott to contact the Vipers‘ Nest.
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Sending Marina back to the Vipers‘ Nest was the cruelest punishment of all.
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