I Refuse to Be Your Second Choice novel Chapter 185

Bruce leaned forward, lowering his voice. "While he was having dinner with his doctor friend, he learned some disturbing details."

Alexander waited, his expression unreadable.

"What kind of chemical?" he finally asked.

"It's called furanocoumarin."

Seeing Alexander’s blank look, Bruce elaborated. "My friend explained that large amounts of it can interfere with blood pressure medication, causing a person's blood pressure to drop dangerously low. It can lead to severe complications, even a fatal heart attack. And as it turns out, Camila's ex-husband had a history of taking blood pressure medication and, coincidentally, died of a heart attack."

"But here's the really strange part," Bruce continued. "The man was disabled and had a known medical history, so his attending physician didn't think twice. And his family—meaning Camila—insisted the hospital issue a death certificate immediately, refusing any further tests or an autopsy."

Bruce laid it all out for Alexander. "I was shocked when I heard it. I know it was an arranged marriage, but there were never any rumors of abuse. In fact, everyone said she took excellent care of him, and his family was very pleased with her."

When Alexander remained silent, Bruce prompted him, "So, what do you think?"

Camila was about to become Alexander's fiancée. Though the three of them had grown up together, Bruce's loyalty was to Alexander. He had to warn him.

The frustration in Alexander’s eyes began to fade, replaced by a cold clarity. "You think Camila was involved."

"I'm not trying to accuse her, but it's suspicious, especially considering how badly she's always wanted to marry you."

Alexander's face darkened, and he ran a thumb over the rim of his glass. Finally, he looked at Bruce. "I need you to do me a favor. Find out everything you can about this."

"Done," Bruce agreed. "And if she's innocent, then we'll have cleared her name."

*

The auction at the beginning of next month was fast approaching. Between that and the new collaboration with The Thompson Group, Natalie was completely swamped.

Her days were a whirlwind of meetings with her team and conference calls with headquarters.

At nine-thirty on Friday night, she finally wrapped up her last video call. Remembering that Arianna had been asking her to see a movie, she picked up her phone and sent a message.

The message was followed by a reassuring smiley-face emoji.

Natalie sighed softly. If this was Arianna's decision, she would support it.

Because her hand was still healing, Natalie wasn't driving. She had already called a taxi. As she stepped out of the office building, the driver called and asked her to walk a bit further down the street to a spot where it was easier to pull over.

She checked the map on her phone; the car was coming from the opposite direction, so the new pickup spot made sense. She started walking.

The designated spot was at the entrance of an alley. Natalie was looking from her phone to the street, trying to spot the car.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth and nose, while another arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her into the pitch-black alley.

Panic surged through Natalie. She struggled, kicking her legs wildly, but a strange, sweet scent filled her nostrils, and her limbs went limp.

A cold dread washed over her as she was dragged deep into the alley and thrown onto the hard ground. Dazed and weak, her vision blurred, finally focusing on a pair of red high-heeled shoes standing before her.