A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 622

This time, Specs genuinely hesitated.

Elissa was absolutely right. If she died right here, right now, it wouldn't just be a slip-up. It would be a death sentence for all of them. The heads of both the Murphy and Wilkinson families were sitting right downstairs. Without Elissa as a hostage, none of Finn's crew would be walking out of this courtyard alive.

Specs weighed his options. "Aren't you supposed to be some genius doctor? Tell me what medicine or supplies you need, and I'll have someone buy them."

Clearly, he wasn't about to relax his guard.

Elissa pretended to think it over before answering in a flat tone, "A glass of hot water and a warm jacket."

Specs scowled. "You sure ask for a lot..."

"I don't have a choice. I'm freezing." Elissa glanced around the desolate, drafty space before eyeing him. "Aren't you cold?"

It was the dead of winter, and the biting wind was relentless. Anyone would be freezing.

Specs hesitated. Getting hot water was easy enough, but where was he supposed to find her a jacket? This villa had been abandoned for years; there wasn't so much as an intact rug left, let alone clothing.

He shot a look at one of his guys standing guard in the hallway. "Go get a glass of hot water."

Then he turned his cold gaze back to Elissa. "There's no jacket. You're a spoiled little princess; even if I took mine off and gave it to you, you'd never—"

"Give her mine."

Before Specs could finish his sentence, a steady, authoritative female voice echoed from the hallway. Elissa instinctively turned to see Laurel brushing past Finn's guards, striding directly toward the terrace. "It's just a coat. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

She didn't press forward aggressively. She stopped right at the entrance of the terrace, shrugging off her heavy down jacket and holding it out to Specs.

Specs clicked his tongue in annoyance. But the negotiation downstairs was still ongoing, and no one knew if this would end in a bloodbath or a truce. Right now, there was zero benefit in offending Laurel Wilkinson over a piece of clothing. He walked over, grabbed the coat, patted it down thoroughly inside and out, and tossed it at Elissa. "Put it on."

She was right. She was a weak, pregnant woman. Under his direct watch, there was nothing she could do.

Elissa took the glass from him and took a sip without a hint of hesitation, even adding a casual, "The temperature is perfect."

Specs scoffed, momentarily confused as to which of them was actually the hostage.

Elissa cupped the glass in her hands, her attention fixed on the commotion downstairs. Suddenly, Finn surged to his feet, his face twisted in a dark scowl. At that exact second, Elissa let out a sharp gasp.

The glass slipped from her hands, shattering into pieces across the floor.

Warning bells went off in Specs's head. He kicked the shards away from her feet. "I knew you were up to something—"

Before he could finish, Elissa's face contorted in agony. She doubled over, clutching her stomach with both hands. "It hurts!"