He was another one of Celine’s admirers.
But it was hard to say just how deep his feelings for her ran—especially now.
In her previous life, on Celine’s 21st birthday, he’d watched Fenton spend two years’ worth of savings on a necklace for her.
Celine had seemed delighted in front of everyone, but as soon as she got back to her room, she tossed the necklace straight into the trash.
The next day, when the maid was emptying the bin, she found the necklace—and Sabrina saw it.
Sabrina had even gone out of her way to return it to Celine, thinking she must have accidentally thrown it out.
She could still remember the look of disgust on Celine’s face.
As for Fenton—well, he was always the loyal lapdog.
So if Fenton was targeting her now, there was no way Celine wasn’t pulling the strings.
But knowing Celine’s style, she’d never get her own hands dirty. That meant—
“What’s the plan?” Sabrina had already pieced most of it together; she just didn’t know exactly what they intended to do to her.
Kill her in the Sutton family’s own house? Impossible.
That only left kidnapping.
Fenton hesitated, torn between loyalty and fear. But the threat of what would happen if he kept his mouth shut—he’d heard the rumors about being “fed to the dogs”—was enough to break him.
Finally, terror forced him to give in.
“My job was to get you to Waverly Wharf. There’s someone waiting there to take over. I don’t know what happens after that.”
But there was something else nagging at Fenton.
He’d been told Sabrina would be drugged—hallucinating, out of it.
Yet here she was, not only clear-headed, but strong enough to take down him and six others.
There was only one explanation: she hadn’t been drugged at all.
“Waverly Wharf!” Sabrina’s mind raced. “Who’s meeting you there?”
Fenton hung his head, and with his confession, he gave up everyone else too.


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