Echoes Of a Forsaken Heart (Natalia and Hamilton) novel Chapter 133

A shroud of gloom seemed to envelop Hamilton, yet his face remained as unreadable as ever, betraying no hint of the storm brewing within.

He casually scrolled through his missed calls until one name made his finger pause abruptly—Natalia. Her call had come in a few minutes before the snapshot of Orpheus had landed in his inbox.

That meant she had tried reaching out to him before she was taken.

A suffocating sensation rose in his chest as he wondered how she felt hearing his phone click off.

Then, as if on cue, his phone rang again. With a steely expression, Hamilton answered.

"Bro! Ms. Jenkins is in trouble!" Alden's voice trembled with urgency on the other end.

Hamilton's eyes narrowed, a cold fury beginning to simmer beneath his calm exterior. "What's the situation now?"

Alden struggled to speak, finally managing to utter a dire statement. "It's touch and go."

"What did you say?" Hamilton's voice dropped to an icy register, disbelief threading through his tone.

"Touch and go? Who's touch and go? Alden, you'd better make yourself clear!"

"Bro, Ms. Jenkins was thrown off a cliff, and we're still searching, but we don't know if she's... if she's still alive."

Though Alden spoke of search, hope seemed a luxury he could scarcely afford.

Natalia had been thrown off the cliff with her hands tied and gagged. From such a height, the fall alone might not kill her, but the waters below could claim her life just the same.

Hamilton's mind blanked, a taut wire in his head snapping, leaving him rigid with shock.

Whatever Alden said next was lost to him; his thoughts were consumed by the pleading look in Natalia's eyes when he'd left the hospital last night.

She had been afraid, and he knew that.

Afraid of bad news about Tatiana and the lurking danger she couldn't see. She hadn't wanted him to leave, but what had he thought at the time?

He had assumed Killian's presence meant safety.

He had assumed that staying with her wouldn't change Tatiana's fate.

So he had chosen to visit Eveleen instead.

Hamilton didn't know how long he stood there, lost in his turmoil. But he finally snapped to action and strode purposefully out of the room.

Victor, having heard of Eveleen's injury, had arrived early, only to encounter Hamilton, a man he'd never seen so close to the edge—cold, deadly, his face devoid of emotion yet brimming with a killer's madness.

Frowning, Victor pushed the thoughts aside and walked straight into Eveleen's hospital room.

Eveleen wasn't sleeping. Hearing the door, she expected Hamilton, but was surprised to see Victor instead.

Victor glanced at her. "So, you're really disfigured?"

Eveleen's face soured. "What do you think?"

Victor clicked his tongue. "You've got guts, ruining your own face like that. Aren't you afraid of scars? If you wanted Hamilton's attention, couldn't you have faked it?"

Eveleen let out a laugh. "What do you know?"

Hamilton could spot a fake from a mile away. More importantly, she was certain Hamilton wouldn't let her scar.

"Is Hamilton outside?" Eveleen asked.

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Just saw him looking murderous. What's happened?"

Eveleen's face twisted into a cold sneer. "Probably that wench is dead."

Victor's brow furrowed deeply, instantly connecting the dots. "Did you do something to Natalia?"