He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 795

Her mind was a chaotic mess of unanswered questions.

She couldn't fathom why Heath was here, let alone why he was doing something this deranged.

Based on what he'd said, his original plan was to drug her, assault her in the shadows, and then pin the blame on the addicts in the alley. He never intended for her to know it was him.

But she had called out his name.

Since his cover was blown, Heath dropped the act completely. He tossed the duct tape aside and let out a light, mocking whistle, his eyes gleaming with a sick sense of triumph.

"Don't blame me for being cruel, Scarlett. Blame yourself for being too stubborn."

"The one who really wanted you ruined was Kane Stetson. He hired Charles and a bunch of junkies to drag you through the mud out here."

His voice dropped into a terrifyingly soft cadence. "But I just couldn't stand the thought of it. I've loved you for years. How could I let trash like that touch you? So, I went rogue. I wanted to be the one to break you in."

He paused, his gaze turning icy.

"You shouldn't have stayed awake. If you had just let me have you, you'd still have your life. But now... you're out of luck."

He smiled, the handsome features morphing into something demonic.

A violent shudder wracked her body.

Suddenly, it all made sense. No wonder she had always felt a visceral, instinctive disgust whenever he tried to pursue her back home. Beneath the charming exterior, he had always been a monster.

"Scarlett! Scarlett!"

He and his men scoured every inch of the block, grabbing every vagrant they found, screaming in English to ask if they'd seen a beautiful Asian woman. But the junkies were too far gone—laughing maniacally or spouting nonsense.

Just as despair threatened to swallow him whole, he saw a little boy, maybe seven or eight, creeping out from behind a dumpster. The kid was skin and bones, watching him with the hyper-vigilance of a stray dog.

Desperate, Julian dropped to one knee, frantically describing Scarlett's clothes and face.

The boy stared at him, gave a slow nod, and pointed a filthy finger toward the distant docks. Then, he rubbed his fingers together—the universal demand for money.

Julian didn't hesitate. He emptied his wallet, shoving every bill he had into the kid's hands, and sprinted toward his car like a man possessed.