"Miss Tiffany," The blonde woman frowned as she looked at Tiffany, "If we don’t treat your wounds soon, they’ll become internally infected.
At that point, your life could be in serious danger."
That was exactly what she wanted.
Tiffany remained motionless, her gaze fixed on the window, her expression blank.
She didn’t utter a word.
The blonde woman tried again, her voice laced with concern.
Still, Tiffany gave no response, as if she couldn’t hear a thing.
With a helpless sigh, the woman shook her head.
Neither medicine nor food—Tiffany refused to take anything.
Even when forced, she would spit out whatever was given to her.
Her condition wasn’t improving.
In fact, it was only getting worse.
Are all San Francisco women this stubborn?
"We must inform Mr. Antonio immediately," the blonde woman turned to the maid in uniform beside her, her brow furrowed.
"If this continues, she won’t last much longer."
"Yes, I’ll go right away," the maid nodded and hurried toward the door.
Just as she reached the entrance, she saw a tall, slender man in an expensive black suit striding toward them with steady, confident steps.
The maid immediately stopped and bowed her head.
"Mr. Antonio—" Antonio was here?
Tiffany’s lifeless eyes flickered slightly as she turned her icy gaze toward the door.
The imposing man walked in with deliberate, unhurried steps, his handsome face wearing a faint, gentle smile.
Sunlight bathed his figure, casting an air of refined elegance around him.
But Tiffany knew all too well—this polished facade was nothing but a mask.
The real Antonio was cunning and despicable. Antonio came to a stop by the bedside, his ink-dark eyes fixed on Tiffany.
"In such a short time, you’ve grown so much thinner?"
His voice was deep and mellow, laced with a faint sigh.
"If Camilla saw you , she’d surely blame me."
His gaze shifted to the others in the room, turning sharp in an instant.
"How have you been taking care of Miss Tiffany?"
Knowing his temper all too well, the group immediately bowed their heads in fearful silence.
Antonio’s expression remained indifferent. "Since you’ve failed in your duties, you’ll face the consequences.
The blonde woman and the others were visibly terrified, stammering out apologies as they looked at him pleadingly.
But Antonio remained unmoved, not even sparing them a second glance.
From start to finish, Tiffany watched coldly.
Antonio was the mastermind—these people were nothing but his willing accomplices.
Whatever punishment awaited them, she couldn’t care less.
The struggling, pleading figures were soon dragged away, and the room fell into silence once more.
"It was my mistake in assigning the wrong people, making you suffer, junior," Antonio leisurely took the seat opposite Tiffany, crossing his legs with effortless composure.
Tiffany stared at the hypocritical man before her, her eyes brimming with disgust.
"At this point, there’s no need to keep up this shameless act.
Antonio lit a cigarette, a cold smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Fanny, you’ve misunderstood me," he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his voice deliberate.
"I genuinely wanted them to take good care of you.
After all, I still need you to bring Camilla to me."
"Antonio, you won’t succeed," Tiffany’s expression twisted with agitation at his words, her fists clenching tightly.
"Camilla would never come.
She’d never let you win."
Antonio arched a brow, his dark eyes glinting with faint amusement.
His voice, low and refined, carried an unsettling calm.
"Let’s put it to the test, then—and see."
Antonio pulled out a brand-new phone and dialed the number he had memorized by heart, the one that haunted his thoughts day and night.
Tiffany’s eyes widened in shock.
The moment she realized what was happening, she lunged at Antonio with a furious cry, "Antonio, you bastard!
But before she could reach him, the men beside her seized her arms, restraining her effortlessly.
One of them pressed a strip of duct tape over her mouth, silencing her screams.
Helpless and desperate, she could only glare at Antonio, her eyes burning with rage and despair.
Camilla was poring over the latest intelligence on the Mega family.
To defeat the enemy, one must first understand them.
Her goal was clear—strike with precision, ensuring Fany’s safety above all else.
The sudden shrill of her phone shattered the quiet of the room.
The phone buzzed with an unfamiliar international number flashing on the screen.
Camilla’s pupils constricted instantly.
A chilling premonition gripped her—this call was about Fanny.
After a frozen heartbeat, she swiped to answer. "Who is this?"
A beat of silence stretched before a man’s voice, deep and unsettlingly smooth, filtered through the receiver.
Cigarette smoke curled in the dim light, obscuring Antonio’s features as he spoke.
Her fingers whitened around the phone.
The delicate lines of her face hardened into ice.
Each syllable crackled with barely leashed fury.
Even as she spoke, her free hand flew across the keyboard, pulling up a chat window on her desktop.
"Sinclair," she typed, fingers staccato against the keys.
That man... he’d finally surfaced.
Sinclair stared at the brief message, his dark eyes glinting with an icy chill.
After typing this single word in the chat box, his long, elegant fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, the rapid clicks echoing in the quiet room.
Camilla let out a slow breath, her tense shoulders relaxing slightly at her husband’s reply.
"Don’t worry, Fanny is perfectly fine," Antonio’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes burning with a twisted obsession.
"Since she means so much to you, of course I wouldn’t let anything happen to her."
Tiffany’s eyes widened in shock, her glare fixed on Antonio with undisguised hatred.
Camilla wasn’t buying his act for a second.
Her gaze sharpened as she cut in coldly, "I want to speak to Fanny."
Antonio flicked the ash from his cigarette lazily.
"Antonio," Camilla interrupted, her voice like steel.
"Whatever you’re planning to say, whatever your game is—none of that matters until I hear Fanny’s voice and know she’s safe."
Antonio rather has Camilla vent her emotions at him than face that same cold detachment from their last meeting.
Antonio listened to the clear, suppressed fury in Camilla’s voice, and the corners of his lips curled into a faint, indulgent smile.
Antonio rose and walked over to Tiffany, pressing the speakerphone button on his phone.
The two men restraining Tiffany immediately understood. One of them reached out and tore the tape from her mouth.
"Camilla, I’m fine—completely fine! Don’t believe a word Antonio says, and don’t agree with any of his conditions—"
Before she could finish, the tape was slapped back over her lips.
Camilla’s frantic voice crackled through the phone.
"You heard for yourself—Fanny is perfectly unharmed," Antonio said smoothly, pulling the phone back to himself.
"Camilla, you should trust me."
"Antonio, if anything happens to Fanny, I swear—I will make you pay for it!"