Chapter 4

The recording studio was as cold as a morgue; the AC was blasted to its lowest setting.

The assistant immediately initiated a video call, and Julian's face appeared on the tablet screen—haggard, dark, and simmering with rage.

He was in a private hospital room.

Mia lay on the bed behind him, seemingly unconscious.

"You really are ruthless, Clara," Julian said, his voice dripping with venom.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't?" He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "At Mia's signing today, a 'fan' handed her a bottle of water. She took one sip, and her vocal cords went into acute spasms. She completely lost her voice! She's in the ER right now!"

Shocked, I gasped, "What does that have to do with me?! I've been in bed with a fever all day!"

"Nothing to do with you?!"

"Security tackled the guy on the spot! He named you directly! Said you paid him to 'protect your original work'!"

Julian's gaze cut through the screen like a blade. "Who else holds a grudge against Mia? Who else would do this?"

Behind him, Mia began to stir.

Julian immediately picked up a cup of water. "Shh, take it easy. Drink a little." He gently dabbed her lips with a moistened cotton swab, his touch agonizingly tender.

Once she drifted back to sleep, he turned back to the camera, his expression instantly freezing over.

"Since you love playing these dirty games, you can taste your own medicine."

At his command, the assistant produced a small glass vial filled with a clear, odorless liquid.

"What is that...?"

"Something to keep you quiet."

Julian's voice was utterly devoid of warmth. "Haven't you always been so arrogant because of that voice? You think I can't survive in this industry without you? Let's see what leverage you have left once it's gone."

My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the floor. "Julian! That voice is all I have! Please, I'm begging you—"

He let out a derisive scoff. "Which is exactly why you don't deserve to keep it."

"I'll disappear! I'll leave the city forever! I won't ever show my face in front of you again! Please, don't touch my throat! I'm begging you!"

I was on my knees, weeping, humiliating myself just to save the one thing that made me whole.

"Do it."

The two men pinned me down, one prying my jaw open while the other poured the caustic fluid down my throat.

Liquid fire tore through my esophagus. I thrashed violently, the chemicals mixing with my tears and spilling down my chest.

"Lock her in," Julian commanded coldly before hanging up.

The heavy soundproof door slammed shut, and the deadbolt clicked from the outside.

I dragged myself to the door, pounding against the glass with all my strength, but only a wet, ragged rasp escaped my ruined throat.

I couldn't even scream for help.

On the morning of the third day, Julian was peeling an apple in Mia's hospital suite.

His assistant barged in, pale and trembling. "Mr. Vance! She's gone!"

"Who's gone?" He didn't even look up, his knife steadily spiraling through the apple peel.

"Clara! The studio is completely empty! We only found this!"

The assistant held out a crumpled document and an empty glass vial.

It was our ten-year exclusive contract.

The expiration date had been yesterday.

"Where is she?!" Julian kicked his chair back, sending it crashing to the floor. "She was sick! Her throat was severely damaged! How the hell did you let her walk out?!"

The assistant shrank back. "With the dose she was given... medical logic says she shouldn't have been able to make it down the street..."

"Medical logic?!" Julian grabbed him by the collar, shaking him violently. "If anything happens to her, you're dead! All of you are finished!"

"So what if she ran away?" Mia chimed in from the bed, her voice already half-recovered as she rolled her eyes. "She's just being dramatic."

"Shut your mouth!" Julian roared, rounding on her. "If Clara doesn't make it, I will personally ruin your life!"

He snatched the contract from the assistant, his fingers trembling so hard the paper crumpled in his fist.

He whipped out his phone and dialed my number.

The number you have dialed is currently powered off.

He called again. Still off.

He called every mutual contact, every acquaintance, every studio tech. Call failed. Line busy. Blocked.

"Find her! Check every camera in the district! Find out who took her!"