Can’t Win Me Back

Hell on Earth? This place resembled a decrepit hospital.

But why had Sheryl described it as "hell on Earth"? Amber's body convulsed uncontrollably, her consciousness flickering between clarity and haze.

Fragments of memory surfaced —a dim recollection of drinking with Carl in the cellar after The Millennium's closure.

She'd despised working with Carl but had cozied up to him for the sake of extracting information.

Carl had revealed that "Sir" was deeply entrenched in the pharmaceutical industry.

With connections to Mosgravia's government officials and elite circles, "Sir" wielded considerable power and ran a thriving business.

Since his business revolved around pharmaceuticals, clinical trials were inevitable.

To facilitate this, Sir owned a private hospital in Mosgravia.

That hospital, however, was merely a facade.

Beneath its sterile exterior, three basement levels housed patients—unwilling subjects for experimental drugs.

Amber shivered.

This place bore an uncanny resemblance to Carl's grim description.

Could this be where Justin and Sheryl conducted their drug experiments? Scoffing through her labored breaths, Amber mustered a response.

"Hell on Earth? D-Did you think...

I'd be...

defiant

down fighting, Amber added, "All those days by Jameson's

were hell...

It's...

just death...

W-What's there...

fear?" Sheryl's face twisted

your dreams!" Grabbing Amber's chin,

a god

I control everything here.

a good mood, I might go easy on

Amber's eyes betrayed no emotion,

Fuming, Sheryl slapped her.

Jameson! He was just one of Sir's lackeys, and you? You're nothing but a pet he

slept with countless men! "Now that you're with Axel and backed by the Taylor family, you think

piece of shit!" Amber's lashes fluttered, and tears slid down her

words mirrored her darkest fears, and hearing

some things I can share with you since you won't escape this place anyway." Stroking Amber's tear-streaked face, she continued sinisterly, "1

Jimmy wasn't

what I'm capable of." With that, Sheryl strode out like a victor, flanked by two medical

metal doors slammed shut, the deadbolt

motionless, her body paralyzed except for her

the blinking green light of the surveillance camera