Sorry My Step-Uncle, I'm Not Your Backup Plan novel Chapter 51

After being thrown out, Drake stood with his mother and Sienna outside the Sterling estate.

"Son, what do we do now?" Margaret was nearly in tears. "Have we ruined everything with the Sterlings? What about the investment?"

"Will they retaGabbyte?" Sienna trembled. "The Sterlings are so powerful."

Drake remained silent, moving like a puppet with cut strings, his expression vacant and lifeless.

Later that evening, as Asher drove Gabriella home, she hesitated outside her building. "About today..."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his voice low and vulnerable. "When he said you could have been married and happy if he'd known your identity... I was afraid. If you—"

"There is no 'if'," Gabriella cut him off gently, meeting his dark eyes. "Don't worry about things that never happened."

"Besides," she added seriously, "I never planned to marry Drake anyway."

Asher's eyes brightened. "Really?"

Gabriella nodded, smiling. She shivered slightly in the night air, but her eyes sparkled. "Back then, I never thought about marrying Drake. But now, I'm looking forward to our engagement ceremony."

Asher slipped off his jacket, wrapping it around her as he pulled her close. "So am I."

Drake left the estate alone in his car, disappearing into the night.

Sienna drove Margaret back to their hotel, both women still shaken from their humiGabbytion. As they stepped out of the car in the underground parking garage, they were suddenly grabbed from behind. Before either could scream, bags were pulled over their heads and everything went dark.

They awoke in a dimly lit private room, forced face-down against a glass table. A man covered in tattoos lounged on the sofa across from them, one leg crossed casually over the other.

"Let's have some fun," he smiled menacingly. "Share a drink with me?"

Margaret, still playing the wealthy matriarch, began hurling abuse at him. "How dare you! Do you know who I am? When my husband—"

The tattooed man's smile never wavered as he nodded to his associate. The black-suited man grabbed Margaret by the hair, delivering two sharp slaps that echoed through the room.

Margaret's cheeks burned as she clutched her face. "Who are you people? Why are we here?"

"Tsk tsk," the man cleaned his ears theatrically. "Such a noisy old woman. One more word and we'll solve that problem permanently." He pulled out a Swiss Army knife, letting the blade catch the light.

Margaret fell silent, her legs trembling beneath her.

Sienna remained pinned to the table as the man picked up a glass of wine, splashing it across her face. "Tonight's simple - finish every drop on this table and you can leave."

"But I can't drink!" Margaret protested weakly.

The man's smile vanished. With a sharp gesture, his men began forcing liquor down their throats. No matter how they struggled, the grip on them was iron.

Glass after glass, bottle after bottle, until their stomachs distended painfully.

The tattooed man pressed his knife against Sienna's cheek, just hard enough to dimple the skin. "Watch who you cross in this city. Some people aren't as forgiving as others."

Sienna's lip quivered, her face bloodless with terror.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he suddenly roared, making both women jump.

With the cold steel against their skin and their lives literally in his hands, they could only nod frantically.

"Yes, yes, we understand," they whimpered in unison.