Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 678

Even though she had acted cold toward the Fairchild family recently, if she just acted a little sweet and coaxed that old matriarch, she was guaranteed to reap massive benefits.

When the time came, the Fairchilds would undoubtedly provide her with an astronomical dowry.

The more Macy thought about it, the happier she felt. She checked her reflection in the mirror several times, making sure she looked absolutely flawless before grabbing her designer bag and heading out.

But the second she stepped out of her apartment building, a grey van violently screeched to a halt right beside her. The sliding door ripped open, and a hand clamped securely over her mouth.

Before she could even scream, she was violently dragged into the vehicle.

The door slammed shut with a heavy *thud*, and the van peeled out, its tires screeching against the asphalt.

The entire abduction took less than three seconds.

...

Meanwhile, by the time Jude's flight touched down in Northampton, the sun was fully up.

He turned his phone off airplane mode and immediately dialed Macy's number.

*Phone turned off.*

He frowned. He dialed again, but got the same automated message.

He had explicitly called her before his flight to confirm his arrival time.

She had promised she would be there to pick him up...

There was absolutely no reason for her phone to be off right now.

Without hesitating, he dialed Finnian's number.

“I can't get through to Macy. Can you reach her on your end?”

Finnian's voice was grim. “I'm sending someone over to check right now. Come straight to my place. We'll talk when you get here.”

“Alright.”

Jude hung up, handed his luggage to his waiting assistant, and said in a low voice, “Take me to The Willow Retreat.”

“Yes, Mr. Winslow.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jude arrived at Finnian's private estate.

As soon as he walked in, he noticed Finnian's thunderous expression. “What happened? What's going on?”

“I had my men check Macy's apartment. She's not there, and there are no signs of a struggle or forced entry...”

He handed his phone to Jude. “We pulled the security footage from outside her building. She was snatched by a van!”

Jude's brow furrowed tightly. “A kidnapping?”

The news that the long-lost Fairchild heiress had been found was already circulating through high society. It wouldn't be surprising if someone with malicious intent had caught wind of it and decided to strike...

Heirs and heiresses of their caliber were constantly surrounded by bodyguards for a reason. Without protection, it was only a matter of time before someone like Macy became a target!

“I don't think so.”

Finnian pressed his lips into a hard line. “My family hasn't received any ransom demands.”

“Then who could it be?”

“This chick is stunning,” Pudge grunted, his voice rough. “Selling her to some backwoods creep feels like a waste.”

He glanced over at Sloan. “Hey, how about we... have a little fun first? She crossed the wrong people anyway, so she's getting sold no matter what. We might as well enjoy ourselves. It won't mess up the plan.”

Sloan flicked his folding knife shut and looked at Macy, evaluating her like a piece of meat on a butcher's block.

Macy shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face, muffled sobs tearing from her throat.

She didn't know what she had done wrong, and she had no idea who wanted to destroy her like this.

She fought to stand up, but the moment her knees left the chair, Pudge shoved her violently back down.

The ropes bit deeper into her flesh. She winced in agony, but the tape muffled her screams.

“Don't rush, sweetheart,” Pudge let out a vile laugh. He leaned in close, his meaty hand slapping her cheek lightly. “No one's coming to save you. We've got all the time in the world.”

Macy's eyes widened in sheer horror. She began thrashing violently against her restraints.

But her hands were bound behind her back, and her ankles were secured to the chair legs. She couldn't move an inch.

Pudge flashed a leering grin, reaching for his belt buckle.

Macy's pupils constricted. Her whimpers grew desperate and erratic.

She tried to push herself backward, but the chair was bolted to the floor. She had nowhere to hide. All she could do was watch him step closer.

“Don't be scared,” Pudge smirked, revealing a row of yellow, smoke-stained teeth. “I'll be gentle.”

A muffled scream echoed through the damp hold...