Act Like You Love Me (Jessica) novel Chapter 168

10:47 Thu, Feb 26 M

Chapter 168

Chapter 168

Fiona’s POV

The wall in front of me had become my entire world. It was a du, peeling grey, illuminated only by a single bulb that buzzed somewhere above my head.

I didn’t know how many days I had been here. Time had lost its meaning, dissolving into a cycle of hunger, thirst, and the terrifying silence of the basement.

I was bound to a wooden chair, the ropes biting into my wrists and ankles until the skin felt raw.

Every few hours-or perhaps it was days-masked men would efter.

They didn’t speak. They would tilt my head back, shove a spoonful of bland mush into my mouth, force a few gulps of Jukewarm water down my throat, and vanish back into the shadows.

I felt like a stray animal being kept alive just long enough to serve a purpose.

I stared at a crack in the plaster, tracing its jagged path with my eyes.

My mind kept drifting back to the studio, to the sketches I had left unfinished, to the life I was trying so hard to rebuild.

I wondered, if I actually made it out of this chair alive, if Alina would even take call.

my

Would she reschedule? Or would I just be another flake who went missing and ruined a million-dollar opportunity?

The thought of losing my comeback felt almost as sickening as the ropes digging into my skin. Would she even care? Or would I just be-

The heavy steel door at the top of the stairs groaned open.

Footsteps descended. They weren’t the heavy, utilitarian boots of the guards. These were authoritative and polished.

The sound of expensive leather meeting concrete echoed through the room with a terrifying precision.

A figure stepped into the light. He was wearing a tactical mask, a dark fabric that obscured everything but his eyes.

But he didn’t need to show his face. I knew that posture.

I knew the way he carried himself-as if he owned the very air was struggling to breathe.

“Kennedy Tyrone,” I spat. My voice was a hoarse, painful rasp, but the venom was still there.

The figure paused. A dry, raspy chuckle emerged from behind the mask.

He reached up, slowly pulling the fabric away to reveal the face of the devil himself.

Kennedy looked at me with a terrifying sort of fondness, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He began to clap, a slow, mocking sound that filled the small space.

“This is why I always liked you, Fiona,” he said, his voice as smooth as aged whiskey.

“You were always the only one with enough sense to see through the curtains. You have a certain… clarity.”

I glared at him, my jaw tight. “What do you want, Kennedy? If you’re going to kill me, just get on with it. I’m tired of the theatrics.”

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10:47 Thu, Feb 26 MOM

Chapter 168

He pulled a chair from the corner, turning it around to sit facingne, his arms draped over the backrest.

He looked perfectly at home in a dungeon.

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“Kill you? Now, why would I do that? You’re part of the history, Fona. I was just sitting upstairs, thinking about the first time Aaron brought you home. High school. You were so bright-eyed so desperate to fit into a world that wasn’t yours. I remember thinking, ‘Finally, a girl who understands that the Tyrone name isn’t a gift-it’s a career.”

He leaned in, his expression darkening.

“I truly wondered why Aaron couldn’t just ignore your little lapse in judgment. Men of our stature usually understand that a woman’s wandering eye is a temporary distraction. But your betrayal… it was so public. So messy. And a Tyrone doesn’t tolerate messiness. We are the architects of our own image. For you to tarnish that… well, even I found it difficult to defend.”

“Get to the point,” I snapped, my heart starting to thud against my ribs. “You didn’t snatch me off a street corner to reminisce about my failed relationship.”

Kennedy’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He stood up and bent down until we were at eye level. I could smell the faint scent of peppermint on his breath.

“I know you still love him, Fiona. I see it in the way you’ve spent the last few months trying to claw your way back into his periphery. You want your life back. You want the cameras, the inuence, the man.”

He paused, his gaze intensifying.

“I am willing to thrust you right back into his arms. I can make the world forget your ‘unfortunate’ choices. I can put you back on that pedestal.”

The silence in the room felt thick, like a physical barrier pressing against my chest.

I knew who Kennedy was. I had seen him dismantle lives with a flick of his wrist. I knew he was about to offer me a deal that would cost me my soul.

“What’s the price?” I whispered.

Kennedy raised his hand in a gesture of mock surrender, a wicked, triumphant smile playing on his lips.

“It’s a small thing, really. A trade of information. Where is Jessica Reid?”

I felt the air leave my lungs.

“I’m not asking you to kill her,” Kennedy continued, his voice dropping into a soothing, grandfatherly tone.

“I’m not asking you to do anything unseemly. Just tell me where she is. Give me a location. A city. A house number.”

He straightened up, his shadow stretching across the wall behind me.

“If you do this, I will fulfill every promise. You will be the queen of the Tyrone dynasty once again. But if you don’t…” He trailed off, raising his hand and slowly drawing his index finger across his throat in a deliberate, chilling motion.

“Not only will I leave you here to rot, but I will make sure your name becomes a footnote of shame that even the tabloids won’t touch.”

My heart was in my throat, a frantic, trapped bird.

I looked at Kennedy, and for a moment, I saw the life he was offering. I saw the lights, the fashion shows, the respect. I saw

Aaron.

But then I saw the truth. I had betrayed Aaron once. I had broke his heart and his trust because I was selfish and scared

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10:47 Thu, Feb 26 M M

Chapter 168

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If I did this….if I handed over the woman he actually loved, the other of his child-I wouldn’t be winning him back. I would be murdering the man he had become.

I would be handing him over to this monster to be broken all over again.

Maybe this was the sacrifice I had to pay. Maybe the only way to finally free myself from the guilt of the past was to protect the person who had replaced me.

“I don’t know where she is,” I said, my voice gaining a sudden, unexpected strength.

Kennedy’s face didn’t change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“Fiona. Don’t be tedious. I know you’ve been digging. I know you’ve been watching. You know exactly where my grandson has tucked her away.”

“I don’t know,” I repeated, staring him straight in the eyes. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell a pathetic old man like you. You’re not a king, Kennedy. You’re a ghost. You’re a relic of a time that’s already over.”

The strike was so fast I didn’t see it coming.

Kennedy’s hand caught me across the face, the force of the blow snapping my head to the side.

The taste of copper filled my mouth as my lip split against my teeth. He didn’t look angry; he looked disappointed, which was far worse.

“You always were a bit too dramatic for your own good,” he seethed, pulling out a silk handkerchief and dabbing at a speck of my blood that had landed on his cuff.

He turned toward the shadows where two of his goons stood.

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