The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 130

Riiiiing—

The sudden chime of her phone jolted Alexia from her thoughts. She took a slow, steadying breath, forcing her nerves to calm, then picked up and answered. Bertha’s voice came through at once.

“Alexia, how did things go on your end?”

“He figured out I played him tonight. Not only did he warn me not to try it again, he didn’t even spare my brother’s reputation. He just cut me off.”

Bertha sucked in a sharp breath. “You’d better lie low for a while. Don’t let him see you anywhere near him or his people. Yves isn’t one to make empty threats—he means what he says, and he’s ruthless. He’s not someone you can afford to cross.”

“I thought as long as I didn’t go too far, he’d cut me some slack out of respect for my brother. I never imagined he’d confront me so directly.”

That night, she realized for the first time: the only person Yves ever felt guilty toward was Charles. She, Alexia, had never mattered—not even in the slightest.

Whatever she had now, she’d bought with Charles' life.

“You’re too naïve. How do you think he earned a nickname like ‘The Iceman’? People are terrified of him for a reason.”

Alexia pressed her lips into a thin line. The injustice gnawed at her. She didn’t want to go back to the way things were; her only chance to change her fate was through Yves.

“But don’t lose hope just yet,” Bertha said with a cold chuckle. “Lindsay’s luck is about to run out.”

“Oh?” Alexia perked up, curiosity piqued.

“Althea’s brother is back in town—you know, Zachary. He’s not just any gangster; he runs half the city’s underworld. And Lindsay? She’s the one who landed Althea in the hospital. Zachary’s obsessed with protecting his sister. There's no way he’ll let Lindsay off the hook.”

Alexia’s mood brightened instantly. She pressed for more details about Zachary.

Bertha filled her in. Zachary wasn’t just the kingpin of the city’s criminal underground—his interests stretched across the globe. Maybe his hands weren’t clean, but he was rich—filthy rich.

“Relax. I know how to handle people. I’m not stupid.”

Bertha, reassured by Alexia’s quick wit, gave her Althea’s hospital and room number.

***

The next morning, Lindsay woke up feeling off. Her limbs were weak and heavy, her vision swimming in and out of focus. The sensation sent her into a panic. She remembered this feeling all too well—the early symptoms after she’d been drugged in her previous life had felt exactly the same.

Without wasting a moment, she called her manager to report in sick, threw on some clothes, and rushed straight to the hospital, not daring to delay.

The ER was packed. With nothing to do but wait, she took a seat on a hard bench in the corridor, clutching her phone and anxiously watching the digital board for her name.

She never noticed the eyes tracking her from the shadows—the cold, predatory stare of someone who wanted nothing more than to tear her apart.