Awakened Behind Bars: The Golden Finger

Chapter 6: End of discussion

The noise of the mall faded around Desmond. His grip tightened on the phone as he listened, his breathing shallow as his mind spun uncontrollably.

Alive? His little sister was alive?

He remembered the accident. His mother and his sister had been in a taxi, coming to meet him. Another car had collided with them at full speed. The impact had been intense.

His mother had died on the spot.

He remembered kneeling beside her, his hands shaking as he checked for signs of life. But there was nothing. Then he saw his sister lying a few steps away. He had rushed to her in panic. He had pressed his fingers against her neck and wrist. But there was no pulse or heartbeat. Her body was cold and unresponsive.

Before he could do anything else, the police and emergency wardens had pushed him away, telling him to move aside.

And now, one week later…Someone was telling him she was alive.

“Wait,” Desmond said hoarsely into the phone. “Are you sure about what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” the nurse replied firmly. “I’m one hundred percent sure. I’ve been taking care of her personally. She regained consciousness yesterday.”

Desmond’s fingers tightened around the phone.

“She keeps calling your name,” the nurse continued. “She somehow remembered your phone number. That’s why I’m calling you. You need to come and see her as soon as possible.”

“Where… where exactly are you?” Desmond asked.

“I’m in Carter City.”

“Okay.” His breath hitched. “Okay… okay. I’ll be there. I’ll be there. Please…please take care of my sister. Please don’t let anything happen to her.”

“I’ll do my best,” the nurse replied. “But I need to be honest with you. I’m very busy, and the hospital won’t be able to keep her for long. I managed to get her treated, but you need to come quickly.”

“Okay. Okay. I understand,” Desmond said quickly.

The call ended.

Desmond stood there, trembling slightly, his heart racing. His back still ached, his body still weak, but none of that mattered anymore. Vivian was alive.

Just then, heavy footsteps approached him. “Hey!” one of the men barked. “Why are you standing around like an idiot? We’re supposed to be shopping.”

Desmond looked at them slowly, his expression strained. “I… I really can’t shop right now,” he said quietly.

The man scoffed. “What nonsense are you spewing now?”

Desmond clenched his jaw, his heart pounding from the urgency. “I really need to be somewhere right now. I’ll be back, I promise. I just really have somewhere I need to get to—”

Before he could finish, the two men burst into laughter, holding their stomachs.

“He needs to be somewhere right now?” one of them said between laughs. “He’ll be back?”

They laughed again, louder this time, like it was the most ridiculous thing they’d ever heard.

Damien clenched his teeth in frustration. “Listen,” he said, his voice firmer now, “I’m not joking. You don’t understand. I just received a call that my little sister who I thought was dead, is alive. I need to go see her. I’ll come back, I promise. I just need to get to her.”

The men looked at each other, smirking, their faces filled with mockery. One of them finally sighed, leaning closer, “Sure. And you expect us to just let you dash off whenever you feel like it?”

“I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” Damien shot back, stepping forward, “this isn’t optional. She’s my sister.”

The tallest man crossed his arms, blocking his path. “You’re not going anywhere. Mr. Vixen said you shop. You go back to the mansion. You marry his daughter next week. End of discussion.”

“It seems you are not ready to buy anything or shop,” the other one said, “so you are going back to the mansion with us right this instant.”

Desmond’s eyes widened in horror as they moved to grab him. “Please, just let me go. I promise I’ll come back. I just really need to get to my sister. I beg of you.”

The man spat, shaking his head. “What nonsense are you spewing? You thought she was dead. So just continue thinking that way. It’s all in your head.”

“No, please! Don’t be so mean.” Desmond shouted, struggling to break free.

The man laughed cruelly. “You have no right to speak. Let’s take him.”

They had grabbed him roughly. Desmond clenched his teeth and with all his strength, pushed them away and kicked out, breaking their grip. He began running, his back screaming in pain, the scorching sun beating down on him made it worse.

He ran blindly through the streets, not knowing where to go or how to contact the nurse. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his body weak, falling to the ground, but the men’s footsteps grew closer.

“You’re so pitiful,” one of them sneered. “This is what happens to idiots like you. You’re ruined. The day you woke up in that hotel room with the Vixen’s daughter, your life was over.”

They grabbed him again, dragging him toward the waiting car. Desmond could barely struggle, his strength failing him, and they forced him inside.

When they arrived at the mansion, they threw him roughly to the ground. Mr. Vixen was there, standing with a dark look on his face.

“He tried to escape, boss.” a man said, bowing slightly.

“Escape?” Mr. Vixen's gaze sharpened. “And why would he be so pathetic to even attempt that?”

Desmond looked at him desperately. “Sir, please, I wasn’t trying to escape. I got a call that my sister is alive. I just need to meet her. I’ll come back, I promise.”

Mr. Vixen rubbed his forehead with a sigh. “I have a very important meeting in about an hour. Take him back inside. Where is his suit?”

“We couldn’t get it, sir,” one of the men replied.

“Fine. You'll have to get him a random suit. Whether it fits or not, he will wear it. Now, take him inside.”

Desmond was pushed into the room with full force. His back screamed the moment he tried to straighten as the fabric moved over the wounds. He sucked in a sharp breath and leaned against the wall, his knees giving way until he slid down to the floor. Sweat broke out on his forehead almost instantly.

“Mr. Vixen has instructed that you're not given any food for two days.”

Desmond's eyes widened as they slammed the door shut. He was still on medication. His eyes darted to the small table where the doctor’s drugs sat neatly arranged. Medication that required food.

His throat tightened.

“If I take them without eating…” he whispered hoarsely, but didn’t finish the thought.

For the first time since everything began, he suddenly felt dying would be easier.

He pressed his forehead to his knees. “No,” he breathed. “No… not yet.”

Vivian.

His little sister’s face flashed in his mind. Her laugh. The way she clung to his arm when she was scared. The way she always said, “Big brother, don’t leave me.”

She was alive.

That single truth fueled him with hope. “I can’t die,” he murmured.”

Meanwhile, Cherry paced back and forth in her spacious bedroom. “So wait,” Sophie said from where she lounged on the couch, watching her cousin back and forth. “This is really how your life ends? You’re going to get married to a riffraff?”

“Shut up,” Cherry snapped, shooting her a glare. “I’d rather die than marry that fool.”

She dropped to the edge of her bed and ran her fingers through her hair. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“I’m so pissed off about everything,” she continued. “Why would Murphy do that to me? If he hadn’t drugged me, I wouldn’t have been high. If I wasn’t high, I wouldn’t have gone into the wrong hotel room. And if I hadn’t gone into that room…” Her voice cracked with rage. “...none of this would have happened.”

“Lower your voice,” Sophie said calmly. “Do you want people to hear you admitting that the riffraff didn’t even assault you?”

Cherry scoffed. “Oh, please. You think my dad and the rest of the family don’t know?” She laughed coldly. “They know he’s innocent. But of course, I come first. So they lie. Simple.”

Sophie’s brows knitted together as she straightened on the couch. “Have you told your father about Harry?” she asked slowly.

Cherry’s smile faded almost instantly. She looked away, her fingers tightening around the silk bedsheet beneath her. “No,” she said flatly.

Sophie’s eyes widened. “What? Cherry, are you serious? After everything that happened?”

Cherry stood up again. “I can’t tell Dad about Harry,” she snapped. “I just can’t.”

“But he drugged you,” Sophie said. “He’s the reason you ended up in that hotel room. He’s the reason your name is being dragged through the mud.”

Cherry stopped pacing. For a moment, her shoulders sagged. “Yes, Harry was wrong,” she admitted. “I know that. What he did was unforgivable. But…” She clenched her jaw. “I’m still madly in love with him.”

Sophie stared at her. “Cherry—”

“If I tell my dad,” Cherry cut her off sharply, “he’ll destroy Harry. Completely. They’ll be on bad terms forever, and I don’t want that.” She turned, her eyes hazy. “I won’t let anything sabotage my relationship with him. Not even this.”

Sophie exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. “So instead, you’re letting an innocent man suffer.”

Cherry’s lips curled, her expression hardening again. “Desmond doesn’t matter. He was just… collateral damage.”

“Now let’s talk about something interesting,” Cherry added, her eyes gleaming. “Let’s talk about a way to make sure this wedding never happens, and still make Desmond Knight suffer.”