Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 19

14:52 Fri, Jun 12

Please Come Back, My Love

Chapter 19

Elena: POV

“One moment.” Morrison leaned in close, whispering something I couldn’t quite hear. The server’s expression remained neutral, but he nodded quickly before disappearing.

Morrison turned back to me with that same genial smile. “There. Much better. Now, while we wait, why don’t you walk me through the design process? I’m fascinated by how you achieved such fluidity in the draping.”

For the next ten minutes, he was the perfect client–asking intelligent questions, genuinely interested in the craftsmanship, complimenting specific details that showed he actually understood fashion.

I started to relax, thinking maybe Marcus’s warning had been overblown.

The server returned with my lemon juice in a crystal tumbler, ice clinking against the sides. Morrison tipped him generously before

the man disappeared again.

“Thank you.” I took the glass.

“To successful partnerships,” Morrison said, raising his whiskey.

I lifted my glass

in

return and took a long sip. The lemon juice was tart, refreshing, exactly what I needed.

We continued discussing the collection. Morrison asked about production timelines, fabric sourcing, how the designs would translate to different body types. He seemed knowledgeable, professional.

Where the hell was Julian?

I glanced at my watch. 2:15. He was late.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any moment,” Morrison said, following my gaze. “Julian’s a busy man. I’m sure you understand that better

than anyone.”

Something in his tone made me look up, but his expression remained pleasant.

I took

nother sip of

my lemon juice, trying to calm my nerves.

That’s when I felt it.

A strange heaviness settling over my limbs. The room seemed to tilt slightly, like I was on a boat.

No.

I set the glass down carefully, my hand shaking. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t feel well.”

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14:52 Fri, Jun 12

Chapter 19

Morrison’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes changed. Sharpened. Like a predator that had been patiently waiting for its prey to

weaken.

“Don’t you?” He took a slow sip of his whiskey, watching me over the rim of the glass. “That’s unfortunate.”

My vision blurred at the edges. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.

“What did you…” My tongue felt thick, useless.

“Just a little something to help you relax.” Morrison set down his glass and moved closer, all pretense of civility gone. His hand landed on my shoulder, fingers digging in possessively. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. It’ll be easier if you just let go.”

Horror crashed through me. The server. Whatever Morrison had whispered to him. The lemon juice.

“You… drugged me…”

“Smart girl.” His hand slid down my back. “Though not smart enough, apparently. Did you really think Julian Sterling gives a shit

about you? He’s with Victoria right now. His real woman. You’re just a warm body he keeps around for convenience.”

I tried to push him away, but my arms felt like they were moving through water. “Get… away…”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Morrison’s breath was hot against my ear now. “You need to understand how this works. Sterling and I are about to close a hundred–million–dollar deal. You think he’s going to jeopardize that over a piece of ass? Please.”

Tears burned in my eyes. My phone. I needed my phone.

I fumbled for it in my jacket pocket, my fingers clumsy and uncoordinated. Morrison watched with an amused smile, making no move to stop me. Like he knew it wouldn’t matter.

I managed to pull it out, my vision swimming as I tried to find Julian’s contact. The screen blurred and doubled.

Finally, I hit dial.

“What is it, Elena?” His voice was clipped, impatient. “I’m busy.”

“Julian…” My words slurred together, barely coherent. “Help… please…”

“Elena, I don’t have time for this right now. Victoria’s doctor just called, she’s having another panic attack. I need to get to her

apartment.

“I’ve been… drugged…” I gasped out, my vision going dark at the edges. “The Whitmore Club… please…”

“Stop being dramatic,” he snapped. “You’re fine. Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t have time for it. I’ll see you later.”

The line went dead.

III

O

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14:52 Fri, Jun 12

Chapter 19

He’d hung up on me.

My husband had just hung up on me while I was being drugged and assaulted.

The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering on the hardwood floor.

“Well,” Morrison said, picking it up and pocketing it. “I guess that answers that question, doesn’t it? Now, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

The hallway tilted and spun. Down a back staircase I barely registered through was going dark.

He hauled me to my feet, his arm wrapping around my waist as my legs buckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take much better care of you than Sterling ever did. I promise.”

My head lolled against his shoulder as he dragged me toward the

• Dor. I

I tried to scream, but no sound came out.

haze.

eet dragged on the carpet. Everything

The October air hit my face as he pushed through a service exit. A black car waited in the alley, engine running.

“Almost there,” Morrison muttered, hauling me toward the car.

“Let her go.”

The voice cut through my delirium–cold, commanding, edged with lethal fury.

Morrison froze.

Through my blurred vision, I saw a man step out from behind a parked car. Tall. Brown–haired. Wearing a charcoal suit that looked

just like Julian’s.

He came. He came for me after all.

“Who the fuck are you?” Morrison demanded, his grip on me tightening.

“Alexander Sterling.” He crossed the alley in three strides. “And you just made the worst mistake of your pathetic life.”

Mor

ce wo

dn’t she wanted-”

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