Chapter 258

Annie's POV

The coarse ropes dug deeply into my wrists and ankles as I curled up on that decrepit bed. The drug-induced haze had finally cleared from my mind, leaving behind a dull headache and a sharp awareness of my dangerous situation. I tested the bindings discreetly,feeling the rough fibers scratch against my already raw skin. The abandoned factory's musty air filled my lungs with each careful breath I took.

Philip stood a few steps away, phone in hand, uncertainty flashing across his face after my revelation about Sarah's baby. In the dim light, his familiar features seemed contorted into someone I barely recognized. The moonlight streaming through broken windows cast elongated shadows across the dusty floor, turning the room into something from a nightmare.

"Philip, call her again," I urged, my voice steady despite the panic coursing through me. "Ask her directly if the child is yours."

Philip's finger hovered over his phone screen, doubt gradually crawling across his expression. I could see the internal struggle playing out on his face-the desperate need to believe inSarah battling against the seed of suspicion I'd planted. He dialed Sarah's number again but only reached her voicemail. The unanswered call seemed to amplify the tension in the room, the electronic beeps echoing off the dilapidated walls.

"She's not answering," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, a gesture I'd seen countless times during our marriage. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"It does matter," I insisted, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure of the bindings on my wrists. The pain helped keep my mind clear,focused."

Then call Robert. Ask him about Paris."

Philip's eyes narrowed with suspicio. "You're just stalling, aren't you?"

He stepped closer, still clutching the cloth soaked with sedative. The chemical smell wafted toward me, making my stomach turn. I fought back memories of waking up disoriented in this very room, determined to stay present, to find a way out.

"I'mm not falling for your tricks, Annie." Philip's voice had taken on that cold. detached tone I'd heard more and more in our final months together-the voice of a stranger wearing my husband's face.

"Philip, what exactly do you plan to do?" I asked, unable to hide the tremor in mny voice. Part of me didn't want to know the answer,but I needed to keep him talking, to buy time.

Philip placed his phone on the table beside the camera tripod. The camera's lens caught the dim light, reflecting it back like a malevolent eye watching our every move.

"I've thought this through," he began, his voice unnervingly calmn as he adjusted the camera settings. "Howard Thompson took everything from me-my wife, my family, my dignity. He swooped in like some knight in shíning armnor and stole what was mine."

He adjusted the camera, ensuring it pointed directly at the bed where I was bound. His fingers moved with practiced precision despite the tremor I could detect in his hands. "So I'm going to take something from him."

A wave of nausea swept over me as I fully understood his intention. The room seemed to spin momentarily, and I fought to maintain my composure. "You can't be serious," I whispered, my voice barely audible

even to my own ears.

"I'm going to record everything." Philip continued, gesturing toward the camera. His voice had taken on an almost clinical detachment. "Then Howard has a choice-either he uses his company's resources to save my company from bankruptcy, or this video goes public."

My blood ran cold. The calculation behind his plan was chilling. "Philip,this is rape. You'll go to prison."

He laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor that echoed through the empty room. "You think I care about that anymore? My company is failing,my son hates me, and my wife left me for another man. What else do I have to lose?"

The desperation in his voice was palpable. I recognized the dangerous edge to it-the voice of someone who believed they had nothing left to lose was the most frightening sound in the world.

"You think this will hurt Howard?" I challenged, desperately trying to make him see reason. I needed to reach whatever humanity remained in him. "He'll only hate you more."

Philip's expression darkened, his features tightening in a way that momentarily made me recoil. "Oh, it will hurt him in ways you can't imagine." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to an intense whisper."Even if he initially forgives you, knowing it wasn't your choice... every time he tries to touch you, he'll remember this moment. These images will flash in his mind. Your relationship will rot from the inside."

The calculated cruelty behind his plan rendered me momentarily speechless. This wasn't just about revenge-it was about systematic destruction, about poisoning any chance of happiness I might find in the

future. The Philip I married would never have conceived of something so vicious.

"Was this Sarah's idea?" I finally asked, connecting the dots. The manipulation, the psychological warfare-it hadI Sarah's fingerprints all over it. "This feels like her manipulation."

Philip's hesitation confirmed my suspicion before he could deny it.Something flickered in his eyes-doubt,perhaps, or the first glimmer of clarity. "Sarah understands what it takes to win," he defended, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Why are you doing her dirty work?" I pressed on, sensing his vulnerability. I needed to widen that crack of doubt. "The child in her belly isn't even yours, Philip."

"You're lying," he snapped, but uncertainty flickered in his eyes like a candle flame in the wind. His hand clenched and unclenched at his side,betraying his inner turmoil.

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. This might be my only chance."Remember when I was kidnapped? When you drugged me and handed me over to Robert?" The memory still burned, but I forced myself to continue. "I found Sarah's phone that morning. I saw her messages with Robert about their weekend in Paris. I saw her lab results-nine weeks pregnant, when you hadn't even touched her."

Philip paled, and for a moment he seemed unsteady on his feet. "That's impossible. Sarah wouldn't-" He stopped mid-sentence, and I could see him mentally revisiting moments, conversations, perhaps noticing inconsistencies he'd previously ignored.

"The same Sarah who turned our son against me?" I questioned, my voice

strengthening with each word. "The same Sarah who orchestrated my kidnapping? Wake up. Philip. She's been using both of us."

Philip's hand tightened around the sedative-soaked cloth as he took a threatening step toward me. "Shut up. You're trying to confuse me. This f exactly what Howard would want you to say,"

"Think about it," I continued, ignoring his advance. I refused to show fear.though my heart pounded painfully against my ribs. "Why would Robert agree to that kidnapping scheme? This isn't about wanting me-it's about him and Sarah using us as pawns in their game."

A flicker of doubt crossed Philip's face. His hand, still holding the cloth,lowered slightly. For the first time since this nightmare began, I saw genuine uncertainty in his eyes.

"If you don't believe me, call Robert," I suggested,my voice softening.I knew I was gambling everything on this moment, on Philip's capacity for rational thought. "Ask him about Paris. Ask him about the baby. What do you have to lose by making one phone call?"

Philip stood frozen in indecision, my words clearly affecting him. The camera was ready, the ropes still biting into my skin, but I sensed a shift in the atmosphere. The momentum was changing, the careful script Sarah had prepared beginning to unravel.