Chapter 166 Recovery

Lilith carried Liam on her back, his blood dripping down her arms as the elevator ascended in silence. Lana stood to her left, arms folded tightly over her chest, visibly shaken. Vanessa, to the right, glanced between them, her face stern but heavy with concern.

No one spoke.

The soft chime of the elevator broke the silence as the doors slid open into a dimly lit hallway. Lilith stepped forward without hesitation, her heels echoing softly against the polished floor. She reached the end of the corridor and stopped at a sleek, black door with no handle—just a glass panel beside it.

"Open," she said flatly.

A soft click sounded as the door slid open smoothly.

Lana’s brows furrowed, but she said nothing. Vanessa kept her focus on Liam.

Lilith led them through the modern, minimalistic penthouse with soft golden lights. The moment they entered, she made a direct turn to her bedroom. Her steps were swift and unhesitating, but careful—not jostling Liam’s body more than necessary. The tension in the air was suffocating.

She entered her room, pushed the heavy door open with her foot, and walked straight to the bed. With precise control, she lowered herself to her knees and shifted Liam from her back to the silky black sheets.

She laid him down gently.

Too gently.

Lana’s voice cracked the silence like thunder.

"That’s it?" she snapped, eyes wide with frustration. "That’s all you’re going to do? You said you were going to help! He’s barely breathing and you just dump him on your bed?!"

Lilith straightened slowly.

She turned her head toward Lana—her expression unreadable. Cold. Deadly.

Her golden eyes pierced Lana like twin blades.

Lana felt a chill slither down her spine.

Lilith’s voice was low and venom-laced. "Do you want him to die?"

Lana opened her mouth, but the words froze on her tongue.

Lilith’s gaze shifted to Vanessa. "Do you?"

Vanessa stood straighter. "...No."

Lana slowly shook her head too. "No..."

Lilith gave a nod, her eyes flickering back toward Liam’s broken body. "Then do me a favor," she said, voice like ice. "Shut up and leave."

"But—"

"Out." Her tone wasn’t raised. It didn’t need to be.

Vanessa stepped forward and grabbed Lana by the wrist. "Come on," she said with a sigh, her voice calmer. "We’re not helping here."

Lana resisted for a second, but Vanessa gave her a tug, and they both exited the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

They walked in silence down the short hallway to the lavish living room, where the leather couches and glass tables gleamed beneath soft lighting.

Lana spun and threw her hands up. "This is crazy! We should’ve taken him to a hospital! That woman has him lying in a bedroom—what is she even doing in there?!"

Vanessa slumped into one of the couches, elbows on her knees. "You got a better idea?" she asked, not looking at Lana.

"I—" Lana paused, frustrated. "No. But this isn’t a solution either."

Vanessa finally looked up. "That’s the thing, Lana. We’re out of solutions."

Lana paced back and forth, her arms crossed tightly. "I just... I hate this. I hate feeling like I can’t do anything."

Vanessa didn’t argue. She just nodded in quiet agreement. Truthfully, she felt the same.

They were strangers—three women brought together by blood, chaos, and one nearly dead man. None of them trusted the other. None of them owed each other anything.

The room was quiet again, broken only by the ticking of a sleek wall clock.

Twenty agonizing minutes passed.

Then the bedroom door opened.

Both women turned their heads in unison.

Lilith stood in the doorway, her clothes still stained with Liam’s blood. Her long golden-blonde hair had fallen slightly out of place, and though her face was unreadable, her eyes burned with restrained fury.

Vanessa and Lana rose to their feet immediately.

Lilith didn’t address them at first. She walked into the living room with slow, controlled steps. She wasn’t shaking, but there was a cold intensity surrounding her, like a storm barely kept at bay.

She stopped in front of them and turned her attention to Vanessa.

"I’ve been watching Liam for a long time," she said plainly. "You’re the cop. Vanessa."

Vanessa blinked. "...Yeah."

Lilith’s tone softened just a fraction. "You’re one of the few people he trusts. I don’t have a problem with you."

Vanessa was surprised to hear that. "Thanks... I guess?"

Lilith glanced briefly at Lana but said nothing.

Then she turned back to Vanessa. "What happened tonight? Who did this to him?"

Vanessa exhaled slowly. "I came to check on him after not hearing from him. When I got to his place... the noises coming from inside was chilling."

She clenched her fists at the memory.

"I ran inside and saw him—barely breathing. The guy was about to crush his skull like it was nothing. I didn’t even think—I just pulled out my gun and fired."

Lilith narrowed her eyes. "The shot did nothing, right?"

Vanessa nodded. "He didn’t even flinch. But... he stopped. Turned around. Then vanished."

Lilith was silent.

She processed the information without reaction, but her golden eyes gleamed sharper now, like a knife being drawn.

"I see," she muttered.

Lilith stood silently for a moment, golden eyes fixed on Lana.

Then, with a calmness that held sharp undertones, she finally spoke. "What’s your story?"

Lana, who had been tense with her arms wrapped around herself, slowly turned to face her. She wiped the drying blood from her cheek with the back of her hand and looked down for a moment, as if gathering her words.

"...It’s all my fault," she said in a voice that trembled.

Lilith and Vanessa both furrowed their brows at once, exchanging a confused glance. Vanessa leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

Lana looked up, her green eyes red and slightly puffy. "Yesterday... two guys tried to attack me in my house. They were going to throw acid on my face."

Vanessa gasped quietly, but Lilith’s expression didn’t change.

Lana continued. "Liam... he saved me. He came at the exact moment. He beat them down and... he poured the acid back on one of them."

A bitter edge crept into her voice as she clenched her fists. "I thought it was over. But... maybe this was their revenge. Maybe they sent someone after him to get back at him for what he did."

The room fell into silence.

Then Lilith, surprisingly, shook her head. Her fierce eyes softened, just barely, and her voice came out gentler than either woman expected.

"No," she said. "It’s not your fault."

Lana blinked. "What...?"

Lilith met her gaze. "It’s not because of you."

"But—"

"I said it’s not your fault."

Lana stared at her, confusion and emotion swirling in her chest, but Lilith offered nothing more. She turned her back slightly and crossed her arms.

"That’s all you need to know," she added.

Vanessa looked between them, clearly trying to piece things together. "Wait... then why did that man attack Liam? Who the hell was he?"

Lilith didn’t answer. Instead, she turned back to Lana. "Where were you when the fight happened?"

Lana hesitated. "I was... inside. Liam locked me in one of their rooms. The place was reinforced, I couldn’t break out."

Lilith’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Reinforced room?" she muttered more to herself.

"I don’t know what they use it for," Lana admitted. "I just know it was impenetrable."

Lilith nodded quietly.

Suddenly, a faint sound interrupted the tension. A soft, raspy cough came from behind them.

All three women turned sharply.

Liam stood there, leaning heavily against the hallway wall.

His shirt was half torn, his body wrapped in haphazard bandages stained red. Blood still clung to his skin in places, and there were dark bruises across his ribs and chest, but... he was standing. On his own.

Lana gasped.

Vanessa’s jaw dropped. "What—"

"Liam!" Lana cried as she shot to her feet, rushing toward him.

Vanessa was right behind her, stunned beyond words.

Lilith, however, didn’t smile or cheer.

Her eyes went wide with disbelief—but what followed was fury.

She stormed over to him in seconds and grabbed his arm, slinging it over her shoulder before he could collapse. "Are you crazy?" she hissed. "You’re supposed to be in bed—healing!"

Liam gave a painful chuckle, though it turned into a cough. "You sound like you care."

"I don’t," she muttered, guiding him slowly to the nearest couch. "But I also don’t enjoy watching you kill yourself again after spending twenty minutes putting your bones back together."

Vanessa and Lana, however, weren’t recovering from the shock.

They both stood frozen, mouths slightly open, eyes wide as they looked him up and down.

Just thirty minutes ago... he had been dying. Covered in blood. Barely breathing. Bones shattered. They had seen it. Felt it. Vanessa had carried his weight. Lana had felt the limpness in his limbs.

And now... he was walking.

Slowly. Weakly. But walking nonetheless.

"How is this... possible?" Lana whispered, her voice barely audible.

Vanessa’s mind was racing, her rational side refusing to accept what her eyes were telling her. "This doesn’t make sense. You shouldn’t even be alive—let alone standing."

Liam glanced at them both as Lilith lowered him onto the couch. He leaned back, wincing slightly, then looked down for a moment—silent, unreadable.

Then, as if making a decision, he looked back up.

His eyes met Vanessa’s first, then Lana’s.

"I know," he said softly. "It doesn’t make sense. Not to you."

Lana took a shaky step forward. "Then tell us."

Vanessa crossed her arms, her tone cautious. "Liam... what’s going on with you?"

Lilith, still crouched beside him, narrowed her eyes slightly. She said nothing—but she was watching him closely.

Liam leaned forward a bit, pain flashing across his face as his ribs shifted. Lilith instinctively moved to support him, but he gently waved her off.

"I have... a lot to explain," he said, eyes flicking between them. "Things you won’t believe. Things you probably shouldn’t believe."

"But you’re going to tell us?" Lana asked slowly.

Liam nodded.

"Why?" Vanessa asked.

His lips curled into a tired, small smile. "Because you both deserve the truth."

Lilith blinked. She hadn’t expected that. She remained quiet, unreadable—but somewhere deep inside, she respected his choice.

He was taking the risk. The kind of risk she’d never dare.

And the women watching him—confused, anxious, still catching up—had no idea how deep the truth was about to go.