Chapter 1007
Her words made my chest ache. I lowered my head and gently kissed the crown of her hair. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep until I came up with a plan.”
She lifted her face toward me, a trace of hope appearing in her eyes. “You found a solution?”
I ran my fingers through her hair and nodded. “Yes. But I need you to help me put on a performance.”
She blinked in confusion. “What kind of performance?”
I met her gaze and deliberately emphasized each word. “A performance where you mourn the death of your mate.”
Her eyebrows immediately drew together. Hesitation flickered across her face, and she remained quiet for several seconds before finally answering, “I think I understand what you’re asking me to do, but that’s going to be extremely difficult.”
I understood her concern perfectly. When we had deceived Melisa before, all Lianne needed to do was pretend to be jealous and resentful.
But this time was different. This time, she would have to portray something far more painful — the devastation of losing her mate. She needed to show the kind of crushing grief that left someone feeling helpless when the entire world seemed to collapse around them. That sort of genuine-looking anguish demanded an extraordinary level of control and acting ability. One tiny mistake could expose the entire plan.
I took her hand and calmly explained what was at stake. “Brian doesn’t know how to make the antidote himself. The one he has is already prepared. If he becomes convinced that I’ve actually died from the poison, he’ll lower his guard completely. That will give me the opportunity to find out where he’s keeping the antidote. Once we get it, everything will finally be resolved, and we’ll be able to live peacefully again.”
As she listened, the worry on Lianne’s face slowly faded. She thought about it for a moment before a smile suddenly appeared.
Looking up at me, she let a playful spark enter her eyes. “Alright. I think I can handle it.”
Lianne’s POV:
Once we settled on the plan, the Thorn Pack’s hospital became unusually chaotic over the following few days. Ethan’s men had completely secured the top floor, making sure that no information about what was happening inside could get out.
The corridors were suddenly crowded with unfamiliar men dressed in immaculate suits. The earpieces gave them away. They definitely weren’t regular hospital security.
The nurses quietly discussed it among themselves, whispering that the security surrounding the hospital was even tighter than it had been the last time the Alpha King was assassinated.
The VIP room was even more absurd. Normally, when someone was admitted to the hospital, their room would be filled with medical equipment, IV stands, and other necessities.
But Ethan was different. His men had actually brought a heavy, solid-wood office desk into his room, complete with a laptop and an entire collection of office supplies.
Propped up in his hospital bed with an IV still taped to his hand, he had scattered a stack of papers around him, continuing to handle business affairs while faking an illness.