Cecilia’s pov
"Of course," George replied with a professional smile. He turned to his assistant. "Try it on. Now."
The color drained from her face like someone had pulled the plug. "Mr.George ...Yes."
She walked back to the rack and hung the green dress up, reaching instead for a white one.
"Funny," I called out casually from behind her, "weren’t you just raving about how perfect that green dress was for me? What changed your mind?"
Her smile slipped, but she forced it back. It didn’t look real. She picked up the green dress and went inside.
Yvonne and I exchanged looks as we settled back onto the sofa.
George immediately began apologizing.
"I’m so sorry, ladies. She’s new and clearly hasn’t learned proper etiquette yet..."
Yvonne gave him a sharp smile. "You brought a trainee to a private showing? That’s either really confident or really careless."
George blanched, like someone had just told him his champagne was from a grocery store. He launched into another stream of apologies.
I half-listened to their exchange while keeping an eye on the time. A dress change shouldn’t take more than five minutes. We were pushing ten minutes.
"Did she fall into a black hole in there, George?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ha... you’re quite the comedian, Miss Cecilia." George laughed nervously, then signaled another assistant to check on the situation.
The second assistant knocked on the door. A strained voice answered from inside,
"I... I need another minute. The clasp is... difficult."
Her tone was off. Too tight. Too rehearsed.
George stood up and marched over, rapping sharply on the door.
"What’s taking so long? Come out now!"
Finally, the door opened.
The assistant emerged, looking like she’d sprinted through a fire drill. Sweat dotted her forehead, and her hands trembled slightly.
George immediately spotted the unfastened clasp at the back of the dress.
"All this time and you couldn’t even manage the hooks? Are you possessed?"
He was furious now. The remaining assistants crowded around, reaching to help with the clasps.
"Don’t touch those hooks," I called out sharply, my tone slicing through the room like cold steel.
Everyone froze.
Tang stepped forward like a switch had flipped, his calm replaced by quiet menace. He motioned for George and his team to back away.
Seeing Tang approach, the assistant panicked and made a break for the door.
Tang caught her in three strides, his movements clean and practiced, like he’d done this before. He restrained her with ease, then pulled out a small knife and carefully examined the collar.
Near the neckline was a row of metal clasps. Looking closer, the middle clasp concealed a tiny hypodermic needle with traces of red liquid inside.
It was subtle. Deadly.
Just putting the dress on might not set it off, but closing the hooks definitely would.
A tiny amount was enough, depending on what kind of toxin it was.
No wonder she’d stalled. She knew exactly what would happen.
This wasn’t a signature piece. It didn’t match Yvonne’s style or color profile. It had been buried in the collection, then handpicked for me.
The message was obvious.
Tang pressed the blade gently to her neck, just over the artery. His voice was calm.
"Who sent you?"
The room went still. No one moved. No one breathed.
A knock at the door broke the tension.
"Miss Yvonne," the butler called. "Alpha Sebastian from Silver Peak Pack has arrived."
Everyone froze. It felt like someone had dropped a bucket of ice into the room.
"Send him in," Yvonne replied.
The butler hesitated. "Would you prefer he wait in the main hall?"
"No. Bring him here."
"Very well."
As the butler left to escort Sebastian, Tang repeated his question.
Night had already fallen when we finally pulled away from Yvonne’s estate.
The roads ahead were dark and quiet, but the tension in the car was sharp enough to cut glass.
After watching Sebastian’s stone-cold profile in silence, I finally spoke once we were well down the road.
"It wasn’t Yvonne’s fault. Please don’t be mad at her. If anyone should apologize, it’s me."
"I’m not blaming her," Sebastian replied, voice flat. "I’m blaming myself. I should’ve never let you walk into that place without tighter protection."
Trying to shift the mood, I asked, "What did you find out in there? What was in the needle?"
Sebastian’s jaw clenched.
"HIV-positive blood."
His words landed like a slap.
"The assistant claims George gave the order. George says he’s being set up. They’re both sticking to their stories."
He paused, then added, "Someone’s been watching Yvonne’s messages. The timing of George’s visit was too perfect to be random.
"He says his secretary gave him the wrong date. Lying or not, one thing’s clear: Yvonne’s place isn’t safe. You can’t go back there anytime soon."
My stomach turned.
HIV-positive blood.
This wasn’t some scare tactic. It was a calculated move to take me down, quietly and permanently.
Sebastian noticed my reaction. His features softened.
He slid closer and wrapped an arm around me, the gesture both protective and grounding.
"You’re vulnerable right now," he said gently. "I need to find somewhere safe. Somewhere no one can reach you."
I wanted to say I wasn’t some breakable doll. But after what we’d just escaped... maybe I kind of was.
At least right now.
So instead of arguing, I leaned into him, letting his warmth pull me back from the edge.
Because honestly?
Being the target of carefully planned assassination attempts was exhausting.

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The readers' comments on the novel: Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia)
Loving the story. But only 2 pages a day. 😢...