I snapped my head up. Even with his face covered and his voice distorted, I recognized him — Eric Shaw.
He stepped closer. The only part of his face exposed — his eyes — narrowed briefly when he noticed the blood on my hand. But almost immediately, he turned away, fists clenched.
“This is just a small price for you,” he said coldly. “A heartless CEO like you should never forget where you came from.”
So this was it. He kidnapped me to avenge Stella Lane.
Eric Shaw really did fall for that troublemaking woman.
He forgot one thing — everything he has came from me.
I pressed the security panic bracelet strapped to my wrist. Within ten minutes, my Winters Corp security team would locate me.
Just then, Eric’s phone rang.
Stella Lane’s voice whined through the speaker, “Eric, why does my bracelet keep beeping? It’s so annoying… Come back soon, I’m scared…”
Eric hung up immediately and looked back at me — alarmed — then struck me hard enough to knock me out.
As my consciousness slipped away, only one thought echoed:
He redirected MY security to protect her.
—
When I woke again, I was in the hospital.
Eric sat beside my bed, holding a bowl of soup. His expression darkened with guilt the moment I opened my eyes. He leaned forward.
I turned my face away, but he still spooned the soup toward my lips.
“Stella miscarried,” he said. “The doctor said she was stressed because of you… and she’s been working herself to death for the company…”
My hand flew up and cracked across his face.
He stared at me, stunned — hurt flashing through his gaze — then it twisted into cold self-righteousness.
“You can hit me, curse me, whatever you want,” he muttered. “But Vivian… Stella is fragile. How can you take your cruelty out on her?”
“Get. Out.”
I gritted the words through my teeth.
If I exposed the kidnapping right now, he’d be finished — and yet he dared to lecture me.
His mouth opened to argue again, but my phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID — my father — and snatched the phone away.
“What did you do? Running to Daddy to complain?”
I only smirked.
Before the call connected, his own phone chimed — Stella again — sobbing this time:
“Eric… when are you coming back? My stomach really hurts…”
He rushed to soothe her through the phone, then shot me a patronizing glare:
“I’ll talk to Mr. Winters myself. You started this. Don’t you dare play the victim.”
Then he rushed out of the room.
I rolled my eyes and answered my father’s call.
“My sweet girl,” Mr. Charles Winters said. “I’ve looked into everything. But I’m still going ahead with the Corporate Ownership Transfer Press Conference for him.”
I frowned — confused — until he sent me a video.
After watching it, I understood immediately — and agreed.
—
Not long after, I received a message from Stella Lane — a photograph.
Eric kneeling at her feet, washing them.
Her smug caption followed by a picture of my panic bracelet:
“Vivian Winters, so what if you’re the CEO?
Everything you have will be mine anyway.
Women should stay home and raise kids —
No wonder your husband doesn’t love you.”
Expressionless, I shut off the phone and went to check out of the hospital.
But the moment I reached the nurse station, a swarm of reporters descended.
“Ms. Winters, is it true you abused a single mother out of jealousy?”
“Rumors say you’re a tyrant who crushes employees — how do you respond?”
