The Villainess Needs a Hug (Ivy Windsor) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Ivy arrived at the station and was led to see the two human traffickers. She studied their faces carefully, searching her memory, but nothing came to mind.

“Gallagher, these aren’t the ones who took me,” she said, a trace of disappointment in her voice.

Gallagher nodded, but added, “According to their statements, some of the people they trafficked were also sent to Silverfen.”

Silverfen–the bleak, forgotten countryside where Ivy had been held captive for three long years. “Maybe… these traffickers are connected. They might work together,” Ivy guessed.

“Yes, they share information and do business with each other,” Gallagher confirmed. Then he asked, “Do you remember what any of them looked like?”

Ivy thought for a moment. “Some faces… I still remember.”

She’d always been sharp–a prodigy, with a memory that rarely failed her. During those endless, desperate years locked in that filthy barn, she’d spent countless hours sketching her captors‘ faces into the dirt with stray bits of straw, afraid she might one day forget.

Gallagher was both surprised and hopeful. He waved over a colleague. “Take Miss Windsor to get composite sketches done, and make a detailed statement.”

Ivy spent half the day at the precinct, recounting every detail of her abduction and captivity for the officers. With the help of a forensic artist, she recreated the faces of the traffickers who haunted her memories.

When the sketches were finished, Gallagher showed them to the suspects in custody. One of the traffickers recognized a face immediately.

“That’s Black. I did a deal with him just last year,” the man said, eager to cooperate in hopes of a lighter sentence.

But when pressed for more details, he simply shook his head, claiming to know nothing else.

Still, it was a lead–finally, a direction for the investigation.

Gallagher thanked Ivy sincerely, took down her contact information, and personally escorted her out.

When Ivy returned home, the house was quiet except for Rosetta, who was upstairs. The rest of the household was out.

She went to her room to check on the little pet she’d brought home yesterday. It seemed to be doing well. Satisfied, she covered its enclosure with a fresh cloth, grabbed her car keys, and headed out.

That afternoon, she had to meet with a contractor at the duplex to measure for new curtains. All the old ones were in cold, sterile colors she disliked; she planned to replace them with

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Chapter 52

something warmer.

Ivy had just pulled her Maserati out onto the street when she crossed paths with Micah, who was driving Emma home.

As their cars approached, Micah deliberately slowed and rolled down his window.

Ivy ignored him completely, didn’t even glance his way, and drove off without a backward look.

In the passenger seat, Emma fumed. “Look at her–so smug and untouchable!”

Micah glanced at the rearview mirror. “Is that her new car?”

“Obviously. What, are you blind?” Emma shot back, her jealousy barely contained.

Micah swallowed, suddenly uneasy. “That car must’ve cost close to three hundred grand. I only loaned her a hundred.”

Emma turned to glare at him, her irritation barely hidden. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“You said she sold her jewelry, right? That would’ve covered the rest.”

Micah figured Ivy must have blown all her money on the car, and that’s why she’d come to him for a hundred thousand–to keep herself afloat for a while.