A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 150

But he never cared for these social gatherings.

Every year on his birthday, he only wanted Elissa there. Lately, Cliff had started coming too.

His son lived abroad, and to them, Elissa was as good as family.

“Your mentor will be over the moon when she hears this,” Jacqueline said,

her voice warm with affection.

Jacqueline adored Elissa’s sweet, considerate nature. “Blaine and I are at the grocery store right now–anything you’re craving?”

Elissa played along, her tone gentle and obedient. “It’s her birthday today. Whatever she likes, I’ll just have the same.”

“Listen to you–always knowing the right thing to say,” Jacqueline laughed, sharing the moment with Aaron as she walked through the seafood aisle, making a mental note to grab the salt–baked shrimp Elissa liked. “Alright then, you and Cliff come over after work.”

“Okay.”

Elissa agreed without hesitation, hung up the call, and moved on to the

next customer.

Cliff was at a meeting with the Department of Health, so after work, Elissa waited for him in the car, heater running against the winter chill in the parking lot.

She’d been pulling late nights for a research project, and the comforting warmth quickly tempted her into drowsiness.

Cliff was still twenty minutes away. Elissa figured she might as well close her eyes for a bit. But just as she reclined the seat for a quick nap, someone knocked sharply on the window.

She blinked awake, spotting Marcia standing outside.

Rolling down the window, Elissa’s voice was weary. “What is it?”

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Chapter 150

Marcia glared at her, anger simmering. “Did you say something to Frank?” Frank hadn’t acted any differently toward Marcia lately–on the surface. But underneath, he was probing, testing her at every turn.

Paranoia gnawed at Marcia. She needed to know exactly where shet stood.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Elissa replied, already guessing this was about the jade pendant.

She’d decided to play dumb. After that mess Marcia stirred up at the hotel, Elissa still felt unsettled. She wanted no part in Marcia and Frank’s drama.

Marcia’s brow furrowed. “Don’t play stupid. I’m talking about the pendant. Did you say anything to him or not?”

“No,” Elissa answered coldly. “Why would I? Frank always takes your side. Whether that pendant is really yours or you stole it from someone else, does it even matter to him?”

Truth was, she *had* told Frank the pendant wasn’t Marcia’s. But just the other day, he and Marcia were out shopping together as if nothing had changed.

Suspicion flickered in Marcia’s eyes. “Really?”

“Marcia,” Elissa suddenly smiled, considering her, “what, is there some dirty secret hidden in that pendant?”

Why else would Marcia be so obsessed, so afraid of Frank finding out the

truth?

“It’s just a stupid piece of jewelry. What secret could it possibly hold?” Marcia scoffed, feigning indifference as she took a step back. “I’ll just give you a word of advice–mind your own business.”

Elissa wasn’t interested in dragging out the conversation. She rolled up the window.

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Chapter 150

Marcia stormed off, heels clicking furiously as she made her way back to her own parking spot. But just as she turned the corner, a rough hand shoved her hard against the wall.

Slate grabbed a fistful of her hair, eyes blazing with fury. “You little bitch. Been dodging my men for days. Did you really think I wouldn’t come find you myself?”

She was clever–too clever for her own good.

At Old Mrs. Atwater’s birthday banquet, she’d come to him with a proposal: mutual benefit. But the night of the auction, at the hotel, Marcia had used the Atwater family as cover and slipped away, leaving him to deal with the fallout alone.

He’d sent people to track her down these past days, but she’d either holed up at home or stuck close to Frank.

Marcia’s scalp burned where he gripped her hair. “I haven’t been avoiding you. The hotel job fell through–not my fault.”

She’d planned everything perfectly.

Even if Rowan’s men were quick, it should’ve still been enough time for Slate to ruin that woman’s reputation. If anyone was to blame, it was Slate for screwing up–not her.

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