Chapter 348: Love Makes People Predictable

"I’ll come with you."

Babydoll’s voice was calm, but the firmness in it left no room for argument.

Brandon glanced at her for a moment, studying her expression as though trying to read something beneath the surface. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, because he gave a short nod.

"Good," he said.

Then he turned and left the bedroom.

Babydoll remained sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheets gathered loosely around her waist. She listened to his footsteps fading down the hallway, followed by the faint sounds of movement in the kitchen.

A cupboard opening.

The clink of mugs.

Once she was sure he was gone, the casual, almost playful light that had been in her eyes disappeared.

Her shoulders sagged.

"What did you think?" she muttered quietly to herself. "That one night of sex and he would immediately abandon all thoughts of that woman and swear eternal love and loyalty to you?"

She let out a humorless laugh.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket.

"Why didn’t she just die?" she murmured bitterly.

The words hung in the quiet room.

Babydoll leaned back slowly, staring up at the ceiling.

As much as she tried to appear indifferent when Brandon reacted to the news about Lyse, the truth was gnawing at her.

She was furious.

Disappointed.

And, worst of all... hurt.

Some small part of her had allowed herself to hope.

Last night had felt different. Brandon had been different. There had been a vulnerability in him she had never seen before, something raw and honest beneath his usual cold intensity.

For a moment she had believed he was finally starting to see her.

Not as a tool.

Not as a convenient partner in crime.

But as something more.

Yet the moment Lyse’s name appeared on that phone screen, everything had changed.

The shift had been immediate.

Complete.

Babydoll closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

Men were all the same.

They spent their lives chasing women who barely noticed them while ignoring the ones standing right in front of them.

"What a cliché," she muttered bitterly.

She swung her legs off the bed and stood up.

For a moment she caught her reflection in the mirror across the room.

Her hair was messy.

Her eyes slightly swollen with exhaustion.

But she still looked dangerous.

Still looked like someone who could get exactly what she wanted.

Her lips curved slowly into a thin smile.

What am I thinking?

Brandon isn’t the problem.

That Lyse is.

The realization settled into her mind like a quiet certainty.

If Lyse were gone...

If she disappeared from the picture entirely...

Then Brandon wouldn’t have anything tying him to the past.

He would have no reason to keep chasing ghosts.

Babydoll crossed her arms thoughtfully.

And that meant he would have nowhere else to turn.

Except to her.

"I’m gonna make some coffee!" Brandon’s voice called from outside the room.

Babydoll blinked, pulled out of her thoughts.

"Fine!" she shouted back. "I’ll take a quick shower!"

Without waiting for a response, she walked into the bathroom and turned the shower knob.

Water burst from the showerhead in a steady rush, steam quickly filling the room.

Babydoll stepped inside and closed the glass door behind her.

The hot water cascaded down her shoulders and back, washing away the lingering scent of perfume and sweat from the night before.

She tilted her head back and let the heat soak into her muscles.

For a moment she tried to clear her mind.

But the thoughts returned anyway.

Brandon pacing the loft.

The way his voice had broken when he said Lyse’s name.

The anger.

The desperation.

It made something dark twist in her chest.

She clenched her jaw.

"Pull yourself together," she muttered under the rushing water.

Feelings were a weakness.

And Babydoll had survived far too long by refusing to let herself have them.

Still...

A quiet voice inside her whispered a dangerous thought.

What if Lyse doesn’t survive?

Babydoll closed her eyes.

The water kept running.

Across the city, in a cramped rented apartment that smelled faintly of stale cigarettes and cheap cleaning chemicals, Igor stood by the window like a restless bear.

His massive frame practically filled the space.

Behind him, Luca sat sprawled across a battered sofa, staring at his phone.

Igor turned suddenly.

"So," he said impatiently. "How do we find them?"

Luca slowly lowered the phone and stared at him.

"What have I done," he muttered under his breath, "to deserve this lumbering idiot becoming my shadow?"

"What did you say?" Igor growled immediately.

His thick brows lowered in suspicion.

Luca forced a strained smile.

"I said," he replied loudly, "how would I know?"

He gestured toward Igor with exaggerated frustration.

"I’ve been with you all day. If you don’t know where Brandon is, how exactly am I supposed to know?"

Igor’s small, dark eyes narrowed.

The silence that followed made Luca deeply uncomfortable.

"I thought it was your job," Igor said slowly, "to find people like that."

His voice dropped an octave.

"Find them. Or else."

Luca raised both hands defensively.

"Alright, alright."

He leaned back on the couch again and picked up his phone.

"Let me think."

For several seconds he scrolled aimlessly through various news sites, half expecting to find nothing useful.

Then suddenly he froze.

"Oh."

Igor leaned forward.

"What?"

Luca’s lips curled slowly into a grin.

"Well," he said, tilting the phone slightly toward the light, "would you look at that."

Igor stepped closer.

"What is it?"

Luca didn’t answer immediately.

Instead he read the headline again, making sure he wasn’t imagining things.

Then he nodded slowly to himself.

"I think," he said with quiet satisfaction, "I know exactly where to find Brandon."

Igor’s eyes gleamed.

"Where?"

Luca lifted the phone and showed him the article.

The headline glowed brightly on the screen.

Breaking News: Fashion Mogul Lyse Spade Hospitalized After Mysterious Accident.

Igor stared at it for a long moment.

Then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Of course," he murmured.

Luca chuckled.

"Love makes people predictable."

Igor grabbed his coat from the back of a chair.

"Then we go to the hospital."

Luca groaned loudly.

"Oh fantastic," he muttered as he stood up. "Breaking into hospitals. That always ends well."

Igor ignored the sarcasm completely.

His mind was already racing ahead.

Toward revenge.

Toward Brandon.

And the inevitable confrontation that was drawing closer with every passing minute.