The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 156

Chapter 88+

Chapter 88-1

Willow has changed her clothes, and she’s out of the wispy, whimsical, flowing skirts and dresses.

She’s now wearing only a thin white tank top and worn jeans. Her dark hair is loose and sprinkled with melting snowflakes, and it looks oddly angry, like it’s standing on end somehow. In her right hand, she holds something metallic, catching the dim light of the entryway.

It’s a key.

Locke stands ten feet away from her, the barrel of his gun raised, trained directly on the center of her

chest.

“You’re trespassing, Willow,” Locke says, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying register that vibrates through the floorboards. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t put a fucking bullet through you right now.”

Claim

Willow doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t look at the gun. Her dark eyes drift past Locke’s massive shoulder, his muscled naked chest, landing directly on me as I step fully into the hallway.

My breath catches sharply in my throat as my eyes fix on the key again… this time with recognition:

It’s the silver, custom-cut key to the penthouse’s private elevator, the one that bypasses the lobby entirely, and opens the express doors straight into the penthouse entrance hall. And it’s hanging from a very familiar keychain, one with an amber stone, which glows a soft gold in the light.

Willow sees the precise moment the truth lands. Her pale face lights up with a look of triumph.

“You figured it out, didn’t you?” Willow purrs, her voice dripping with venomous delight. She holds the silver key up between two fingers, swaying it back and forth like a prize. “Are you maybe missing this, Zara?”

“How did you get that?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

Willow lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, her eyes wide and glittering under the dim hallway lights. “It was embarrassingly easy. At the clubhouse earlier, while Cobra was busy abandoning me, and Locke was standing there looking like a brooding asshole, your little designer bag was just sitting on the sofa. Unzipped. Unattended. I reached right in, grabbed your keychain and you didn’t even notice. You were too busy looking frail and dramatic.”

Locke steps forward, his body tense as a coiled spring, his gun still trained on her chest. “And the door code?”

Willow turns her chilling, triumphant smile onto Locke, her head tilting like a bird’s.

“Oh, please,” she sneers. “Did you really think I forgot? Last week, when I brought over the tea and food for Zara? I stood right behind you in the elevator vestibule while you typed in the manual override code. Seven-four-nine-two. I didn’t care about it then, but it just popped right back into my head today at the

clubhouse.”

She takes a tiny, mocking step closer, her laughter quiet and unhinged.

“You thought your precious little fortress was so secure,” she says. “All it took was a distracted stupid bitch and a security code you were too careless to hide.”

A

Chapter 88

“Drop it,” Locke says, taking a heavy step forward.

Clam

“No,” Willow says softly, her fingers closing tightly around the metal. “It’s mine now. A piece of your world.”

Locke doesn’t waste another word on negotiation.

He doesn’t fire the gun – doing so would shatter the absolute final boundary for him, I know – but he moves with a sudden, terrifying speed that makes my heart leap into my throat. In a fraction of a second, he closes the distance between them. He grabs her wrist, forcing her hand down.

Willow lets out a sharp, choked gasp as Locke forcefully spins her around, slamming her back against the hallway wall with enough force to rattle the framed pictures hanging nearby. Before she can fight back, Locke seizes her right arm, twisting it up behind her back in a precise, painful martial restraint.

“Zara,” Locke growls through his teeth, holding her pinned flush against the wall. “Search her. Take your key back and check her pockets,”

“Get off me!” Willow shrieked, her eerie composure finally shattering into jagged, violent panic She thrashes against him, her heels kicking uselessly against the hardwood floor. “Don’t touch me!”

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