Chapter 242 Sent Her to Mental Health Facility
Jones slowly blinked as the damp air stung her face. The darkness of the abandoned factory seemed to close in around her. Her hands were bound tightly to the chair, and the cold, wet ropes bit into her skin. Her head ached from the impact of the last few hours. She had no idea how long she had been here, but the silence was unnerving.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the distance. Jones tensed, trying to make sense of the situation. She recognized the heavy, deliberate footsteps—someone was approaching her.
Her heart pounded as the shadow of a figure loomed near. The man stepped into her line of sight, and Jones’ eyes widened in recognition. It was one of Byron’s trusted men, someone she had seen at Crawford Manor before. His presence alone told her everything she needed to know. She was in deep trouble.
“What do you want with me?” Jones croaked, her voice hoarse from lack of use.
The man didn’t answer immediately. He simply crouched in front of her, his gaze cold and calculating.
“You’re a liability,” he said at last, his voice flat. “Byron doesn’t tolerate traitors. You’ve made your bed, now you’ll lie in it.”
Jones tried to shake off her fear, but her mind was clouded. What had gone wrong? How had everything spiraled out of control so quickly? She had only been trying to get rid of Athena, to take back what she believed was hers. But now it was clear that the consequences of her actions were coming for her, and they were far worse than she had ever imagined.
“Did you really think you could manipulate him forever?” the man continued, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. “You had no idea who you were dealing with, did you?”
Jones felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She had underestimated Byron, and now, as she sat there bound and helpless, she realized how badly she had miscalculated.
“You’ll pay for your betrayal,” the man said, rising to his feet. “And when Byron’s done with you, you’ll wish you were never born.”
Fear coursed through Jones’ veins, but she refused to show it. She clenched her jaw and stared up at the man defiantly.
“Byron won’t do anything to me,” she spat. “You can’t control me.”
The man smiled, but it wasn’t a kind expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said, before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving Jones alone in the cold, damp factory.
As the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, Jones was left with nothing but her thoughts—and the overwhelming sense that her life was slipping further and further out of her control. She had played her hand, but now, there was no way out.
Meanwhile, Byron was pacing back and forth in his office, his mind consumed by everything that had transpired. His mother’s betrayal still lingered like a bitter taste in his mouth, but there was something else gnawing at him—something more pressing.
The image of the ultrasound, the letters, and the knowledge that he had lost his children tore at him relentlessly. He had thought he could control everything, but now, it felt as though the world was slipping through his fingers. And through it all, there was only one person who seemed to have the power to make things right: Athena.
But could she ever forgive him for the mistakes he had made? Could he ever forgive himself?
Byron ran his hands through his hair, feeling the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. He had made a choice, and now, all he could do was face the consequences.
He picked up his phone and dialed Athena’s number. The call rang, but there was no answer. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest.
She had to answer.
But the line remained silent.
In the factory, Jones sat motionless in the dark, her mind racing. Byron’s wrath was imminent, and she could already feel the noose tightening around her neck. The game she had played had ended, and now, it was time for her to face the fallout.
She couldn’t help but wonder: Would anyone come to save her, or was this the end of the road?