The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211

“He’s lying,” I said immediately, fury making my voice shake. “Every word out of his mouth is a lie.”

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“That GHB at the hotel? Part of our little game,” Ethan continued, his eyes feverish with desperation. “Ask her about the text messages.

Ask her about our meetings when you thought she was working late.”

I watched Devon’s expression harden into something terrifying. The muscles in his jaw tightened. His hand gripped the back of Ethan’s chair, knuckles whitening.

“Creative storytelling, Blake,” Devon said softly, dangerously. “But you forget–I have your phone. I’ve seen every message you’ve sent for

the past month. Not a single one to Ms. Harper.”

Ethan’s smile faltered. Fear flickered across his bruised face.

Devon nodded to a security guard in the corner. “Give Mr. Blake ten rounds with the electrical encouragement. Low voltage. We wouldn’t

want to damage him permanently.”

The guard approached with what looked like a modified cattle prod. Ethan’s eyes widened in genuine terror.

“You can’t do this,” Ethan gasped, straining against his restraints. “This is illegal! You think this will work? You fucking kill me, and the

entire Blake family will come after you!”

“Kill you?” Devon looked genuinely amused, smiling as if Ethan had told a mildly entertaining joke. “Why would I kill you? You think your

father will stand by you after learning you kidnapped and attempted to rape a woman? That you drugged her with GHB? That you

impregnated her stepsister while engaged to her?”

The guard pressed the device against Ethan’s ribs. His body convulsed, and a strangled scream tore from his throat. I flinched but couldn’t

look away.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Devon said calmly, guiding me out with a hand on the small of my back as Ethan began shouting obscenities between pained gasps.

Through the glass, I watched as the guard methodically administered the “electrical encouragement.” Each time, Ethan’s body jerked

violently, his face contorting in agony. A part of me–a part I didn’t recognize–felt vindicated.

We walked in silence to a small private dining room. A table had been set for two, with steaming food waiting. The sounds of Ethan’s

muffled screams eventually faded behind us.

“Sit,” Devon commanded, pulling out a chair for me.

I remained standing, my heart pounding. “Every word he said was a lie. I haven’t seen or spoken to Ethan except when you were present.”

Devon poured himself a cup of the herbal tea I’d brought him earlier. His movements were precise, controlled. “Is that so?” His tone was

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Chapter 211

neutral, giving away nothing.

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“I’ve never broken our agreement,” I insisted, hating how defensive I sounded, how much I suddenly needed him to believe me. “Not once.”

“Yet he seemed quite confident in his story,” Devon observed, taking a sip of tea. His eyes never left mine, assessing, calculating. “People facing torture rarely lead with lies that can be easily disproven.”

“Unless they’re desperate and have nothing to lose,” I countered, stepping closer to him. “He knows he’s finished. He’s trying to drag me

down with him.”

Devon set his cup down with deliberate precision. “You know what I find interesting? You’re not asking what I plan to do with him. You’re not begging me to call the police instead of handling this privately. You’re only concerned with proving your innocence to me.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. I hadn’t even considered what would happen to Ethan. All I cared about was what Devon thought of me. The realization unsettled me deeply.

“Because I know you won’t believe me without proof,” I said quietly.

“And how do you propose to prove a negative? How do you prove you didn’t meet him, didn’t text him, didn’t sleep with him?” His eyes challenged me, his voice softening to a dangerous whisper.

The trap was elegant in its simplicity. I couldn’t prove what hadn’t happened.

“I can’t,” I admitted, meeting his gaze steadily despite the fear blooming in my chest. “You’ll have to trust me.”

Devon leaned back, studying me over the rim of his teacup. His shirt cuff still bore Ethan’s blood. For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing something almost vulnerable before the cold calculation returned.

“Trust is earned, Harper. If you want me to trust you, you’ll need to show me something worth trusting.”

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