A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 127

Following instructions, Butler Murphy put the call on speaker.

He dialed several times before someone finally picked up. It wasn’t Rowan’s voice. “Butler Murphy, it’s lan. The boss is busy. He asked me to remind you: calling in the middle of the night is a good way to get yourself struck by lightning.”

The old woman’s face darkened even further. She looked ready to flip the table right

then and there.

Butler Murphy cleared his throat, hurrying to the point. “lan, could you ask the young master–just now, the team at the city outskirts called about-”

lan, who’d spent too long shadowing Rowan, interrupted in a drawl that mimicked his master’s careless tone, “That was our boss. He did it.”

Both Butler Murphy and the matriarch were momentarily speechless.

They hadn’t expected such a blatant, unapologetic admission–no effort to hide it at

all!

Even a subordinate dared to speak this way now!

Under the matriarch’s withering glare, Butler Murphy pressed, “So what does the young master mean by this?”

“Nothing much,” lan replied, tone unchanged. “That’s just how the boss is—anyone hurts his people, he makes sure to pay them back.”

“Oh, and by the way, there are more bombs in the other buildings. They’re on timers.”

lan sounded almost helpful. “Might as well wait till it’s all blown up before you send the workers in to rebuild. Wouldn’t want anyone getting killed.”

“What did you just say?!”

The matriarch couldn’t take it anymore. Her voice was thunderous. “Ask Rowan what exactly he’s trying to do!”

If the whole project was demolished, everything would be ruined–billions in losses, years of work down the drain.

“But Ma’am, the boss is busy, lan replied, the sounds of a card game faintly audible in the background. “But he did say before, the final losses on this project–it all depends

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on how you handle things.”

“How I handle things?” the matriarch demanded, then suddenly realization dawned.

Traitor. Turning on your own family!

She slammed the phone down, her face clouded with rage. “Get that girl cleaned up with a hot shower–now! And have the doctor take care of that cut on her forehead. At least make sure she looks presentable before she leaves this house!”

“Move!” she barked, firing off orders so quickly Butler Murphy stood frozen for a

moment.

Then she turned on him, teeth clenched. “Can’t you see what all this is about? Why do you think he went to such extremes?”

She’d dragged Elissa here in the dead of night, a direct slap to Rowan’s face. The boy who once wouldn’t dare cross her openly had grown into someone utterly defiant.

She only blamed herself for being too soft–hearted back then–giving Rowan the chance to grow his claws.

The lake ice was thawing. Elissa had just dipped a foot into the freezing water, bracing herself to climb out, when Butler Murphy waved her over to the shore.

A whole crowd came to haul her up.

No punishment followed, no family discipline. Butler Murphy was unusually attentive, even arranging a driver to take her home.

Once the car had sped away, Butler Murphy hurried back inside. “Matriarch Murphy, I’ll call the young master right away.”

“No need,” the old woman said, rubbing her temples and letting out a cold laugh. “Before you even pick up the phone, I’m sure he’ll already know what happened.”

Elissa sat silently in the backseat, unable to guess what had prompted the matriarch’s sudden bout of mercy. There’d never been any leniency before–her punishments only

ever escalated.

As her thoughts drifted, her eyelids grew unbearably heavy, feverish heat spreading through her body.

It was the dead of winter, the middle of the night, kneeling on thawing ice–anyone would be laid out sick, and she hadn’t expected the matriarch to suddenly change her mind. She’d even taken off her coat, afraid it would weigh her down if she fell into the

water.

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By the time she stumbled home, dawn was breaking. Tanya Foster had already left for work but had set out breakfast for her on the table.

Elissa had no appetite. Her head was spinning, her whole body weak. She downed some fever medicine and collapsed onto her bed.

Her sleep was restless, plagued by strange, feverish dreams.

Near the end, she dreamed she was kneeling on the ice again. Dreamed she fell into the lake, weeds wrapping tighter and tighter around her, and when she finally crawled onto the shore, it felt as if half her life had slipped away.

Chapter 128