Earlier that morning...
Lola idled in the walk-in closet while everyone else was busy. Standing before one of the wardrobes, she flipped through the soft copies of Amala’s reports. Her lips curved down; it was clear she wasn’t pleased with what she had found.
Thinking about last night, she let out a deep exhale.
***
A little flashback to the night before...
"I lied to get paid, but I didn’t lie about the runaway you’re looking for! Please don’t kill . I really am innocent!"
Lola paused, staring at the pathetic Hudson, who had his head turned and eyes squeezed shut. She studied his face, her own eyes trembling with thought.
Slowly, Hudson opened his eyes and peeked at her. "Please... please..." His whole body shuddered as his legs grew damp with his own urine. "Don’t kill ."
She didn’t move, nor did she speak. She just stared at him blankly before nodding once. A second later, a loud yell tore from his throat as she jabbed a large syringe into his leg, pushing the plunger with the heel of her palm.
"Ugh..." Hudson grunted through clenched teeth, staring down in shock. His eyes widened at the empty syringe still sticking out of his leg, then darted back up at the culprit hovering over him.
"You—what did you just do..." His words faltered as his vision blurred. He fought to keep his eyes open, but consciousness slipped from him faster than water running through his hands. Before he knew it, darkness swallowed him whole.
anwhile, Lola hovered motionless over him for a mont before pulling the syringe free and dropping into a chair. Resting her arms on her legs, she huffed out a breath. Slowly, she looked at him again and scoffed.
"A lie, huh?" Her sharp eyes narrowed at Hudson, bitterness and ridicule flashing across them. She tugged her face mask down, frustration plain on her face.
Thinking about Hudson and lissa’s sches, she felt no sympathy for either of them. Who would? One hired others to ruin what was already broken, while the other complied so long as he was paid.
For what it was worth, at least Hudson milked lissa for more, giving Lola’s virginity and dignity so twisted form of worth.
"Damn it..." she hissed, glaring at his unconscious form. "If this were three years ago... I would’ve slit your throat."
Lola stood, eyes locked on Hudson. "And I wouldn’t feel sorry for you. You’re lucky... you didn’t et that Lola Young."
Having said that, she snapped her brows upward, pulling sothing from her hoodie pocket. It was a small sticky note. Clicking her tongue, she placed it beneath the empty syringe, along with the keys to his handcuffs.
She left without another word, though not without pausing in the doorway. Her nails scraped against the jamb as she gripped it hard.
"Damn it," she breathed, forcing herself to turn away.
Each step felt heavier—not just because of what lissa had done, or because she had nearly been ruined by five n at once. Her heart weighed on her because... she was back to the beginning.
If not Hudson, if not his goons... then who was the person who got her pregnant? When? Where? How?
Those questions returned, gnawing at her, and tonight’s efforts felt useless. They hadn’t answered the one thing that had haunted her since she first found out about her pregnancy.
****
[Back to reality]
There were so many questions Lola wanted answered, but she knew it was nearly impossible now. It had taken her years just to trace Hudson’s connection to that night—what more when all leads had already gone cold?
Still, even if it wasn’t the highest priority, she wanted answers to this one new question.
Where had lissa gotten the funds to buy Hudson’s silence?
"Even Amala can’t trace the money," Lola muttered bitterly, scanning the reports and Amala’s attached notes. "Is she really that sly? How could she erase every trace of where the funds ca from?"
Amid her frustration, Atlas’s voice slid into the room, cool and indifferent.
"Do people bother you every day as well?"
Lola flinched instinctively, turning toward the entrance. Atlas was already sauntering her way. She leaned back against the drawer in the middle of the closet.
Atlas leaned closer, bracing a hand on the top of the drawer. "You look troubled."
"Troubled? What do you an, I look troubled?" She flicked her gaze toward the mirror beside her, and her face twitched. Heavy makeup masked her features, but even with it on, even with a smile, she still looked distressed.
Not surprising. She was talented—and today’s the was literally Stress in Real Life.
Much to her dismay, Atlas suddenly tilted her chin upward with a light pinch of his fingers, angling her face toward him. He studied her, eyes lingering on her black-painted lips.
Now I’m troubled... because of him.
Couldn’t he have shown up later? When the demons inside her had at least voted on which one would take over today?!
"What is it?" he asked calmly, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. "Tell if it’s for efficiency. Don’t tell if it’s for fun."
Lola pouted slightly. "What does that even an?"
"I an, I don’t want to overstep." He released her chin and stepped forward. Before she could retreat, his other hand pressed against the drawer, boxing her in.
"Like I said, I can deal with your problems and make them all go away," he clarified, his tone steady as if he knew her pain. "But it’s your life. I don’t want to overstep... or make you feel I’m ignoring your suffering."
"However, I can help," he breathed, closing the distance until their faces were only inches apart. "Think of it as part of the trial... the little perks of the lifeti subscription."
"Heh... first adoption, and now subscription. What’s next?" she muttered, only to earn a small shrug.
Lola shrank back, but trapped between his arms, she couldn’t slip away. She bit her lip and looked up at him.
"You’d really help ?" she asked quietly.
"Try ." He cocked his head to the side, brows wiggling playfully. "What’s troubling you?"
"I need to locate so funds," she admitted, exhaling sharply. "I need to trace the origin of money that dates back six years to now. Do you think you can do it?"
His brows lifted at her expectant gaze. The corners of his lips curled in amusent.
Could he do it?
Lola held her breath as he leaned closer.
"I’ll be asking sothing in return once I have the results," he murmured, his breath brushing her upper lip. "You’ll have them by the end of the week. So, be prepared."
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