Johnny clutched the contract tight for what felt like ages before finally asking the housekeeper to get in touch with Quinn. No wonder his work laptop and phone had been taken away—Quinn was clearly scheming something, probably for Simon’s sake.
He rubbed his temples, exhausted. Both his daughters were blinded by love, and his son wasn’t much better. This family seemed destined for ruin.
When Quinn got Johnny's call, a wave of dread washed over her. She had a sneaking suspicion that the secret project she’d sent out was about to be blown wide open. Damn it, Clara!
On the way back to the Bradford estate, she mulled over ways to fix the mess. She parked in a nearby alley, hesitated for a few moments, and then sent a message.
Over at St. Mary's Hospital, the man who received her message lit up with excitement. "Quinn's reaching out. She wants me to kidnap her and give her a good stabbing."
Calix thought he must’ve misheard. Who asks to get stabbed? It sounded insane.
A smirk and a tinge of madness flickered in the man's eyes. “Who knows? She’s quite the actress. Better call Clara to see how she wants me to play this. I just want my million and a half and to be done with this place.”
Calix immediately called Clara, who quickly saw through Quinn's plan. Just another trick to earn sympathy.
A sly smile spread across her face. "Then let’s play her game."
This time, Johnny needed a wake-up call.
An hour later, news hit the Bradford family that Quinn had been kidnapped on her way back, and the kidnapper was the gambler who always pestered them for money.
Naomi was frantic with worry. When she saw Clara, she pointed an accusing finger at her. “Clara, nothing good ever comes when you’re around! What more do you want from us? Ryan’s still in the hospital, and now Quinn’s in trouble. I’ve had enough!”
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