Once a Doormat Now Untouchable (Caleb and Sydney) novel Chapter 609

When Sydney woke again, the world around her lay in shadow. A stairway with a metal railing rose in the distance, and faint light spilled down from somewhere above.

It was a basement. That fact alone told her nothing about where she was.

The bespectacled man had used brutal force. Her neck still throbbed. Strangely, no one had restrained her.

She pushed herself up from a dark red leather sofa, rubbed her neck, and took a cautious step toward the stairs.

No one stopped her.

She emerged from the basement into a vast, ornate villa hall lit by low lamps. There were no guards, and the space lay in complete silence.

Sydney clenched her fist and sprinted for the entryway without hesitation.

Just as her fingers brushed the cold metal handle, the lights blazed on.

Startled, she lunged forward on instinct.

The heavy doors opened from the outside. The first thing she saw was a pair of eyes with a faint, wicked slant.

She froze.

A man laughed softly. "Take a guess, Ms. Wilson. How long do you think it will be before Mr. Sterling finds this place?"

"So it was you," Sydney said, shock tightening her voice.

The "Mr. Sinclair" from the phone call in the car had been Tristan Sinclair.

Ever since the drug launch event, he had watched her from the shadows. That was his style. That was how he operated.

Something was wrong. Either Tristan was lying, or he was concealing part of the truth.

When the lights came on, the courtyard illuminated as well. Several trained men stood outside, including the one who had taken her.

In her condition, she could not escape on her own. Her only option was to keep Tristan calm and buy time until Julian arrived.

A dull ache tugged at her lower abdomen. Her thoughts knotted as she chose her words.

"I'm not defending Julian," she said carefully. "But I heard you went abroad 20 years ago. By all logic, you should not have had much contact with him."

"Who said this started in recent years?" Tristan seemed to notice her discomfort. He gestured for a maid to help her sit.

Then violence hardened his expression. "Ms. Wilson, have you never heard the saying? Revenge is a dish best served cold. I have kept mine on ice for 20 years."