Chapter 3 Mr. Pearson, Save Me

With the Pearson family overseeing countless businesses, its head, Alfred Pearson, valued his youngest son, Chris, the most.

Chris, however, harbored deep-seated reluctance to step into the leadership role of Pearson Group. His hesitation stemmed from witnessing the undercurrents of deceit and rivalry that plagued his family from his earliest memories, experiences that left their own scars.

On his own merit, he had built an impressive array of assets that spanned both domestic and international landscapes, demonstrating his prowess outside the family's shadow.

As Madison turned eighteen, she got engaged to Colten.

Despite that, she had hardly ever crossed paths with Chris. Alfred's only updates on him revolved around how endlessly busy he was.

Chris' attendance at trivial events like school plays seemed next to impossible, even if the school board extended a personal invitation.

"Is this important?" Chris asked, his intense gaze piercing Madison as he sought a genuine answer.

Madison had said that merely to dispel the awkwardness brought by her foolish behavior. She had no power to interfere with Chris' schedule.

Taken aback by his question, Madison faltered, the weight of his scrutiny pushing her into retreat. "It's not important," she murmured.

A shadow of emotion flickered behind Chris' thick lashes as he turned away, his response curt and final.

The car rolled to a stop at the gates of a discreet private hospital.

Despite the minor nature of her injuries, Chris summoned the chief surgeon and a top orthopedic specialist.

After a thorough examination, they reassured him that the scratches were superficial and would not impede her dancing ambitions.

Flushing with the unfamiliar attention of being treated like a VIP, Madison's cheeks turned a vibrant shade of crimson.

When the doctors had finally exited, she requested iodine, cotton swabs, and gauze from a nurse. Slipping on a pair of disposable gloves, she turned to Chris, her tone both gentle and reassuring. "Just extend your hand. I promise I'll be careful not to touch you."

Just a while ago, he had stubbornly turned down the nurse's help.

Given that he had sustained his injuries while saving her, Madison felt it impossible to ignore his plight.

She had braced herself for a challenging persuasion but was taken aback when he complied almost immediately, extending his hand with a resigned air.

With meticulous care, she treated his wounds, skillfully wrapping the gauze to avoid any direct contact.

Perfect!

Madison looked up, her gaze meeting his as she exhaled a deep breath, her eyes sparkling with gratitude and free of the earlier despair that had clouded her in the auditorium.

"Let's go!" Chris averted his eyes and strode out of the consulting room first.

Standing at the roadside, Madison didn't intend to trouble Chris further and called out, "Goodbye, Mr. Pearson."

Chris halted mid-step and glanced back, a slight crease forming on his brow. "You're not heading back to school?"

Just as Madison opened her mouth to reply, her phone interrupted with a sharp ring from an unknown number.

Without hesitation, she declined the call.

Chris' eyes flickered with curiosity to her phone. "Where are you headed? Let me give you a ride."

Once more, the phone rang—this time, a message popped up instead.

Madison cast a fleeting glance at the message, frowning. She lifted her gaze, her voice carrying a note of finality. "I have something to attend to. Thank you for today."

As she spoke, a taxi pulled up to the curb of the hospital. With a brisk nod and a cheerful wave, she slipped into the back seat, sealing herself away from Chris with a soft thud of the closing door.

Unseen by her, Chris' hand tightened into a fist at his side, knuckles whitening as the gauze wrapped around his palm darkened with fresh, seeping blood.

The moment the taxi left the hospital grounds, Madison leaned forward and gave the driver an address.

Someone from the props team had texted her, claiming to have seen Lana tampering with the stage light and bribing workers to dismantle some support plates.

The informant had insisted on a face-to-face meeting to exchange damning video evidence for cash.

Colten's betrayal had left a cold void in Madison's chest, and she was determined not to be scapegoated.

Bathed in the flickering light of a dimly lit bar, six rugged men lounged, one of them unmistakably a member of the props team.

Cutting straight to business, Madison asked, "Where's the video? You'll have thirty grand in your account the moment I see it."

The Dixon family, while not as opulent as the Pearson family, certainly weren't strapped for cash.

Madison was well-prepared for this deal.

"Lana went way too far—even I couldn't turn a blind eye to it." The man slid a tablet across the table towards her. "Let's make this clear: whether or not you take Lana down, our lips are sealed after tonight. You can't expose me."

With a solemn nod, Madison accepted his offered drink, their glasses clinking a somber toast. She downed hers in one swift gulp, then turned her attention to the tablet.

The screen revealed a folder containing a large video file which she promptly opened, her fingers poised over her phone, ready to capture the crucial evidence.

Abruptly, grotesque images flashed across the screen, shocking Madison so deeply she let the tablet clatter to the floor.

The room erupted with raucous laughter from the men watching.

In the corner, the tablet blared relentlessly, echoing the crude banter of a man intertwined with the provocative moans of a woman, each sound slicing through the air and grating on Madison's nerves.

As Madison spun on her heel to escape, a rough hand clutched her hair.

"You're not going anywhere tonight... Ah!"

With a sharp, effortless motion, Madison sent the man flying over her shoulder, his body twisting midair before impact.

Seizing the moment of stunned silence, Madison dashed for the door, but a crushing wave of heat rolled over her, draining her strength and buckling her knees.

The man she had tossed groaned, clutching his head as he tried to steady himself.

"Not bad, but what a shame—you're already screwed. That drug? It's three times the normal hit. It won't even take ten minutes before you're panting, desperate, and begging us to satisfy you."

Madison made several desperate attempts to stand, her body wavering weakly as mocking laughter spun around her, heightening her dread. The ominous sound of a belt unbuckling echoed chillingly close.

A wave of despair and regret washed over her, rendering her momentarily powerless. With a thunderous kick, the door flew open, and a man stepped inside, his silhouette cutting through the light as he effortlessly swept her into his arms.

His face, stern and imposing, held the stoic grace of a fallen angel, his aura chilling.

"Mr. Pearson, save me!" Madison called out, her voice breaking.