Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 412 Poppy

"What?" Lucas's face twisted into a sly grin as he drilled Inch with his gaze. "Have you got a soft spot for her or something?"

His words were dripping with scorn and a clear warning, as if daring Inch to disagree.

Inch looked like he had seen a ghost, and he clammed up, not daring to utter another word.

Lucas then turned his scorn on me, pushing me back with a sneer. "Yvette, take a good look." He leaned in, his voice low and taunting. "If you're thinking of begging for mercy, I might just make your life a little less miserable."

He shot Inch a loaded glance and added, "That old man has had it too good for too long. Time for him to test out the new playthings."

Respect was apparent on the surface as Inch nodded, yet a shadow of cruelty lingered in his eyes.

I watched Lucas walk away, biting my lip, my forehead creased with worry. I did not catch all of his words, but I knew none of them were good.

"Ms. Scott, this way, please," Inch said, his voice neutral as he gestured for me to follow.

If I had not just seen him step in to save my skin, I might have thought he was as cold and bloodthirsty as Lucas.

Glancing up at him, I muttered a quiet "Thanks." It was not loud, but he heard me alright. Without another word, I bolted from the villa's fancy entrance hall.

Lucas had sent him to escort me to this place called Eccentricity Courtyard. Even without the details, I could tell it was not going to be a picnic.

Inch's face, all chiseled and cool, flashed a brief 'don't mention it' expression before he slipped back into his usual detached vibe. "No need," he said, and next thing I knew, we were heading to a car. Thrown for a loop, I was. "We're driving there?" I asked, eyebrows knitting together.

He just nodded, all calm and collected. "The boss can't stand the smell of blood at home."

I could not help but snort at the irony. A butcher who could not stand the smell of blood? Right.

I followed him into the car, and we left Hartfield behind. The place was a tropical paradise, with lush greenery everywhere. Inch drove along a road hemmed with banana trees, and eventually, we hit a mountain path that shook us like a pair of dice.

After a bit, my stomach was doing somersaults, and I could not focus on anything outside the car.

Thankfully, we did not have much further to go.

"Out of the car," Inch announced, throwing a glance at my ghost-white face. He seemed like he wanted to say more but just managed, "You good?"

I pressed my lips together, feeling lousy. "I'm not dead yet."

He gave a tight-lipped nod, then gestured forward. "Come on, let's head inside."

I had only taken a few steps behind him when the scene around us came into sharp focus. My heart skipped a beat, and I gasped, "You have got to be kidding... all these poppies?"

Everywhere I looked, there were fields of them. They represented fields of danger. Clearly, this was their stronghold.

Inch caught my look of astonishment and gave a tight-lipped response, "The boss is not concerned with this place at the moment."

I could not help but chuckle, "So, he's planning to let someone else have their fun with me?"

Inch's brow creased with a hint of seriousness as he met my gaze, "Ms. Scott, if he really wanted to make you suffer, Hartfield would not be your destination."

I let out a derisive snort, unimpressed by his attempt at reassurance. A wave of anger washed over me as my eyes swept over the endless poppy fields. These plants were a curse to countless lives. Lucas had lost his humanity.

We walked on, and soon, Inch led me into a row of dilapidated tile-roofed shacks. It was a place that screamed of pain and punishment.