Filed to story: The CEO’s Wife Is a Secret Boss Novel (Allison & Jeremy) Free Online
“Are you kidding me? If we’re taking that bastard down, we do it together!” Axel’s expression was fierce and unyielding. “We went through the same military academy. We have to fight side by side!”
“Justin is my older brother. It’s my family’s matter to handle. And don’t think I’m doing this for your sake-I have my own reasons.”
After a moment of silence, Jeremy’s voice softened. “I came to see you today for another reason. When you get home, don’t blame Lyse. She’s been torturing herself with guilt these past few days. She loves Amber deeply.”
Axel clicked his tongue. “Do you think so little of me? That’s Lyse we’re talking about-my sister. I love her with my life. Why would I ever blame her?”
A lump rose in Axel’s throat as he recalled Alyssa’s sobs. Forcing back his tears, he added, And why are you only focused on me? What happens to Lyse if you get your hands dirty? I’m not allowed to take Justin’s life, but neither are you!”
Jeremy shot Axel a cold side-eye. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Damn it. Are you seriously asking that? Lyse still loves you, even now. Whether you lose your mind, become paralyzed, or-God forbid-impotent, you owe her accountability!”
“Lyse is a remarkable woman,” Jeremy murmured, his deep eyes shadowed with restraint. He tumed to gaze out the window. “I fall short in every way. She deserves someone better.”
An unconscious Amber was trapped in a recurring nightmare, a suffocating loop of darkness, malice, and hopelessness. Over and over, she relived the torment of her time with Jameson.
In her dream, she was curled in a filthy basement at The Millenium, naked and covered in bruises. The door creaked open, and a tall, muscular figure stepped in.
“Axel…” she whispered through her tears, looking up.
But his face remained obscured, hazy and indistinct.
“Do you regret it?” Axel’s voice was cold, emotionless. “Do you regret taking Jameson’s hand back then just to survive?”
Amber wept silently.
She regretted it. She regretted choosing Jameson. If she could go back, she’d rather freeze to death on the streets than accept his twisted salvation.
“Ms. Gillis, she’s not dead, is she?” a voice asked.
“Dead? Here, death is a luxury. She won’t die so easily.
Suddenly, Amber’s eyes shot open, bloodshot and wild. Her body convulsed violently, terror etched on her face as every nerve screamed in agony.
“She’s awake!”
Expressionlessly, Sheryl withdrew the taser from Amber’s body, curling her lips into a sly smile.
Amber’s body continued to spasm from the electric shock as she lay on the bed, her mouth agape and eyes unfocused. Yet she forced herself to scan her surroundings.
The room was encased in cold, crumbling dark-gray walls, resembling a hybrid of a hospital and a prison.
“From now on, you will be known as Number 59,” Standing by the window with two other medical staff, Sheryl, in her lab coat, leaned in close to Amber’s pale face. She smiled menacingly and murmured, “Welcome to my turf-hell on Earth.”
Hell on Earth? This place resembled a decrepit hospital. But why had Sheryl described it as hell on Earth”?
Amber’s body convulsed uncontrollably, her consciousness flickering between clarity and haze. Fragments of memory surfaced-a dim recollection of drinking with Carl in the cellar after The Millennium’s closure. She’d despised working with Carl but had cozied up to him for the sake of extracting information.
Carl had revealed that “Sir’ was deeply entrenched in the pharmaceutical industry. With connections to Mosgravia’s government officials and elite circles, “Sir” wielded considerable power and ran a thriving business.
Since his business revolved around pharmaceuticals, clinical trials were inevitable. To facilitate this, Sir owned a private hospital in Mosgravia.
That hospital, however, was merely a fa?ade. Beneath its sterile exterior, three basement levels housed patients-unwilling subjects for experimental drugs.
Amber shivered. This place bore an uncanny resemblance to Carls grim description. Could this be where Justin and Sheryl conducted their drug experiments?
Scoffing through her labored breaths, Amber mustered a response. “Hell on Earth? D-Did you think… I’d be… afraid?”
She fixed Sheryl with a defiant glare, her chest heaving with effort. Determined to go down fighting, Amber added, “All those days by Jameson’s side… were hell.. It’s… just death… W
What’s there… to fear?”
Sheryl’s face twisted in fury. “It’s just death? In your dreams!”
Grabbing Amber’s chin, she hissed, “Listen carefully, you bitch. I am a god here. I control everything here. If I’m in a good mood, I might go easy on you. Otherwise, I’ll make you beg for death.”
Amber’s eyes betrayed no emotion, a stoic defiance that only deepened Sheryl’s frustration. Fuming, Sheryl slapped her. “To hell with Jameson! He was just one of Sir’s lackeys, and you? You’re nothing but a pet he trained. A slut who’s slept with countless men!
“Now that you’re with Axel and backed by the Taylor family, you think you’ve become someone Important? If Axel saw how you served the other men, he’d never want you. You’re a disgusting piece of shit!
Amber’s lashes fluttered, and tears slid down her cheeks. Sheryl’s words mirrored her darkest fears, and hearing it from her amplified its cruelty.
There are some things I can share with you since you won’t escape this place anyway.” Stroking Amber’s tear-streaked face, she continued sinisterly, “I killed Jameson.”
Amber’s eyes widened at that
“And Jimmy wasn’t the only one. So don’t provoke me-you have no idea what I’m capable of.
With that, Sheryl strode out like a victor, flanked by two medical staff. The heavy metal doors slammed shut, the deadbolt locking with a menacing finality.
Amber lay motionless, her body paralyzed except for her eyes. She gazed at the blinking green light of the surveillance camera in the top comer.
She prayed-not for rescue, but for Alyssa and Jeremy to find her lost phone and the evidence she’d hidden beneath the tree. They were her last hope to expose Justin’s darkness.
Late that night, Sheryl emerged from the final ward after logging data from a new experiment.
Remy stood motionless in the corridor, his imposing presence radiating a chilling intensity.
She broke into an icy smile before slowly walking up to him. “That woman is locked up here. She will become one of Sir’s many test subjects. At least, her life will serve a purpose.”
Under the dim lighting, Remy’s narrowed eyes glinted coldly. He exuded a menacing presence, like a predator on the verge of attack
Sheryl continued, her tone sharp. “Though you failed the task Sir assigned you, he’s gracious enough not to punish you. Your loyalty has earned his leniency.”
She retrieved a small plastic bottle from her lab coat a single blue pill inside the one she received from Justin.
“Sir noticed your medication supply was running low,” she said, handing it to him. “This is an Improved formula. It’ll ease your headaches significantly.”
Remy studied the bottle, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and accepted it.
“I will take it if my condition flares up,” Remy said, his voice devoid of emotion as he stared blankly at the bottle in his hand.
With a feigned smile, Sheryl replied, “Sir instructed me to ensure you took the pill.”
A chill ran down Remy’s spine. Knitting his brows together, he questioned, “But why?”
“This is Sir’s order. Why are you questioning it?” Sheryl’s smirk turned cold and mocking.” What, are you afraid Sir has ill intentions toward you? Have you lost your trust in him?”
Remy held his breath. “No, that’s not it.”
“Remy, swore before Sir to serve him loyally for the rest of your life. You pledged to give him your very being. You haven’t forgotten that, have you?’
Tilting her chin slightly upward, Sheryl shot him a frosty sidelong glance. “Even if Sir fed you poison, shouldn’t you take it without hesitation? Why are you hesitating? Don’t disappoint Sir.
The suffocating pressure in Remy’s chest intensified. It felt as though someone had a rifle trained on him, forcing him to retreat step by step toward the edge of a cliff. One more step, and he’d plummet to his death.
Clenching his jaw, he opened the pill bottle.
Under Sheryl’s watchful gaze, he popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it.
Very good. Always remember that you work for Sir. Never forget where you came from. With a mocking scoff, Sheryl turned on her heel and marched away confidently.
Remy moved forward, his expression unreadable.
Though he appeared unchanged, his pace quickened gradually. The moment he reached a blind spot in the security cameras, he broke into a sprint.
Rushing into a restroom stall, he locked the door. Kneeling in front of the toilet, he jammed his fingers into the back of his throat, his eyes wide and bloodshot.
His sides convulsed violently, his back arching as he vomited the contents of his stomach- blue pill included-into the toilet bowl.
Shivering uncontrollably, Remmy wiped at the cold, sticky drool clinging to his face. His eyes, bloodshot and brimming with unshed tears, mirrored his disheveled state.
Yet, for the first time in years, he smiled-a genuine smile, one born from the depths of his heart.
