Chapter 54 Leftovers of My Pastime

Eleanor skipped dinner, and after a brief packing session called in a takeout order.

It wasn't long before the food arrived.

She had ordered late-night bites from this place numerous times. Its owner was a genuine G City native, ensuring the authenticity of the flavors. Back in the days before Grayson became an athlete, they often visited the shop together.

Everything was great except for the usually slow delivery, something Grayson had jokingly grumbled about on more than one occasion.

But tonight, they delivered a good half-hour early, a surprising deviation from the norm.

Sliding into her slippers, Eleanor approached the door, but as her hand barely grazed the doorknob, a sudden thought flashed through her mind like an electric shock, prompting her to withdraw her hand immediately.

She held her breath subconsciously.

To say she wasn't nervous would be a lie. The random yet real threat of Vincent loomed over her—he could strike at any time or place.

She was mentally prepared, but not entirely ready for anything.

The thought of her bodyguards nearby offered a slight reassurance. Eleanor quietly cracked the door just enough to see the shop owner outside and let out a silent sigh of relief.

Yet her caution prevailed, opening the door only wide enough to receive the takeout box.

Perhaps he was in a hurry tonight, sweat beading his brow, "Your order, miss."

He knew Eleanor was from G Cith and would usually speak to her in the accent of that city. But tonight, he spoke in American English, a shift that didn't escape Eleanor's vigilant senses.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall that Eleanor couldn't see, a dark gun menacingly aimed at the owner's head.

Before Eleanor could react, the owner suddenly threw his hands up, plummeting to the ground in terror, "Please don't kill me..."

A forceful pull kept the door from closing, grabbed firmly by a hand Eleanor didn't see coming.
Eleanor caught but a fleeting shadow before an exotic fragrance wafted towards her, and she felt her body go limp, her consciousness slipping away.

...

With a sudden splash, Eleanor was jolted awake by a bucket of cold water. Her damp lashes fluttered, and it took five minutes for her to fully regain her senses.

Memories just before she lost consciousness surged back, tightening her heart with dread. The dim, rose-hued light set a provocative and unsettling mood. She tried to stand but felt utterly drained.

It was only then she realized she was in a room.

Three walls were padded, and in the center stood a large waterbed. Various apparatuses decorated the walls, and a chill ran down her spine as her eyes landed on whips and shackles and recognized their sinister purpose.

Then she heard a rustling noise in her ear, "Miss Patterson, are you alright? We've located you and we're on our way."

It was Ryan's voice.

Eleanor's anxiety eased considerably. Ryan had given her a miniature earpiece along with a tracking device, ingeniously hidden within her thick hair, unlikely to be discovered.

She inspected the room; it was simple with no hidden spaces, fully visible at a glance.

And she was alone.

In a hushed tone, she said, "Ryan, listen, now's not the time. Stay put nearby, I'll call for you when needed."

From the other end, Ryan clearly disagreed, "We promised Mr. Davis to ensure your safety."

Eleanor knew they were aware of her precise location, but not the nature of her environment.

She lied, "I'm safe for now, no immediate danger. Just wait for my signal."

Just then, the door opened from the outside.

Darkness and cold wind poured in, sending chills across Eleanor's skin. As the sound of leather shoes approached, her heart raced into her throat.

A sinister face emerged from the shadows.

Eleanor's heart skipped a beat.

It was the man from the Hot Spring Resort, the one entangled with Vincent.

His unmistakeable Eurasian features were etched in her memory, particularly his wild and predatory look while dominating Vincent, far from any semblance of normalcy.

"Oh, you're awake," the man said as he walked in, crouching before her. With a smile, he introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Daniel."

His manners were seemingly gentlemanly, yet Eleanor knew this was the calm before the storm.

A true gentleman would never have brought her here.

She gritted her teeth, scooting backward with all her might until she was panting from the effort. "Did Vincent send you?"
In the shadows, she covertly activated the voice recorder hidden in her pocket.

Daniel flashed an innocent grin. "To be both gorgeous and bright—yes, that's right."

"What's in it for you, following Vincent's every word like that?"

The man propped his chin thoughtfully with one hand. "Don't you know the nature of my relationship with her?"

Eleanor pressed her back against the wall, uncertainty in her eyes. "I'm not aware."

"Didn't you catch us in the act? Vincent and I have been friends for years—or as you guys say, 'friends with benefits.'"

Heart pounding, Eleanor blurted out, "She's Aaron's fiancée. How could she do such a thing?"

The man shrugged helplessly. "Why else do women stray? It's because Aaron won't touch her. Vincent, having tasted the heights of passion, won't settle for solitude."

Eleanor appeared momentarily dazed.

Aaron hadn't laid a hand on Vincent, and she had thought...

She gathered her thoughts, probing for more. "Isn't she afraid of Aaron finding out?"

He let out a malicious chuckle. "So far, it's only you who knows. If you disappear, the Quinn family will remain clueless. And if someone like you reappears, well, we'll just have to silence them too."

Eleanor's expression froze—Vincent, the thought of a silencing.

Suddenly, he leaned in close, catching Eleanor off-guard as she let out an involuntary yelp. He held up a finger to his lips. "Shh. Save your energy; you'll need it soon enough."

At that moment, his phone rang. Daniel answered nonchalantly in front of Eleanor, "Hello, darling."

Whatever was said on the other end prompted a sinister smile from Daniel. "Perhaps you'd rather tell her yourself."

He switched the call to speakerphone, and Vincent's voice, charged with malice, seeped through. "Eleanor, in your next life, let's not meet again. Remember, you can't compete with me. Aaron is mine, as is the title of Madam Quinn."

"Daniel, aren't you going to do it?"

In a mock-cooing voice, he replied, "Of course, darling. I'm getting to know her better. Pretty soon, there will be a much more intimate understanding—an integration of body and soul, your favorite, isn't it?"

Vincent sneered. "Do as you please. Just make sure she doesn't walk away from it."

After hanging up, Eleanor sensed it was now or never.

But just then, Daniel reached out, clasping the back of her neck. Eleanor felt a sharp pain in her ear, and the rustling sound vanished.

Daniel weighed the tiny earpiece in his hand with a sneer. "You're playing with my castoffs? Don't you have anything better?"
Crushing the headphones underfoot with a careless grind, he looked satisfied as they lay in ruins.
Eleanor’s face turned pale.