"Betrayed by Magic" Chapter 4
Nina lifted her eyes, her fingertips nonchalantly tracing the miniature hammer hidden in her sleeve. Her tone was calm. "What did they change it to?"
When she reached the stage, the water tank was the first thing she saw.
Julian happened to walk over, his brow furrowed. "Why is it still the water tank? I told you to change it."
The staff member stammered, "Clara said this one has the best visual effect and that the audience would pay for it."
Julian's brow relaxed slightly, and in the end, he didn't argue. He walked to the tank and said to Nina, "Get inside and hold your breath. I'll open the lock once I count to thirty. Three minutes at most, you'll be fine."
Nina said nothing and stepped straight into the water tank.
The cold water washed over her skin, chilling her to the bone. She lifted her eyes, looking at Julian through the glass, her gaze unmoving.
The countdown began, and she held her breath.
The lock mechanism remained unmoved.
Julian's expression darkened. He twisted the latch repeatedly, his force increasing, but the lock remained stubbornly jammed. The staff swarmed around in a chaotic mess, someone shouting urgently: "Julian! The lock has been tampered with—it won't open!"
Julian’s face turned deathly pale.
Just then, a deafening commotion erupted from backstage. Someone roared: "Fire! The prop room is on fire!"
The glow of the fire reddened half the sky, illuminating Julian's panicked face.
His gaze darted frantically between the water tank and the backstage area.
Nina watched him from inside the water, the small hammer she had hidden gripped tightly in her hand, her eyes devoid of emotion.
She had long anticipated that Clara would tamper with the props; she only wanted to see which side the man she had once loved so fiercely would choose.
"Julian!" Clara’s shrieks pierced through the glow of the fire, sharp and urgent.
He glanced at the water tank, gritted his teeth, and took a step back. Inside the water, Nina watched his back as he ran toward the fire.
Just as the glass hammer in her palm was about to touch the glass, her consciousness began to sink, and the strength in her fingertips slowly faded.
In a haze, she heard a deafening "clang." A young staff member, his face covered in soot, raised a fire extinguisher and smashed it viciously against the water tank. The glass shattered upon impact.
She fell to the ground, choking out mouthfuls of water, the young man’s anxious shouts ringing in her ears: "Ms. Sinclair! Ms. Sinclair, hang on!"
Nina opened her eyes. On her arm was a massive patch of red; blisters had formed, skin raw and turned inside out. She was shaking uncontrollably from the pain.
She stood up and walked outside, seeing a crowd of people. Ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars.
Julian stood beside an ambulance, Clara leaning into his embrace. As if sensing something, Julian looked up.
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Nina saw his face. It was covered in soot, and his hands appeared injured as well. He looked at her, his eyes suddenly widening as if he had only just remembered there had been someone else in the tank.
He took a step forward.
Nina took a step back.
She looked down at her arm. The burn was still throbbing, blood and water mixing as they dripped from her fingertips.
She turned around and boarded a different ambulance.
Chapter 6
Nina lay in a hospital bed, her left hand wrapped in thick gauze.
On her phone was the surveillance footage Attorney Chen had sent. Clara entering the prop room in the middle of the night to change the lock, and Clara entering the prop room to set the fire before the show. It was all clear.
She saved the video to a flash drive and picked up her phone, ready to call the police.
The door was pushed open. Julian stood in the doorway.
Seeing Nina in the hospital bed, his eyes were full of guilt and heartache.
He took a step forward, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something. Then he saw the flash drive in her hand, her fingers gripping the phone, and the surveillance footage still playing on the screen.
He froze.
He strode over and snatched the phone from her hand, slamming it onto the bed.
"What are you doing!" Nina looked up at him.
Julian didn't speak. He stared at the flash drive in her hand, reaching out to grab it.
Nina gripped the flash drive tightly, pulling her hand back. "Julian!"
"Give it to me." His voice was low. "Why should I give it to you?"
Julian stopped speaking. He reached out to pry her fingers apart.
His grip was immense. It was so strong that Nina's fingers ached, and her gauze-wrapped left hand slammed against the bed rail, making her gasp in pain.
"It hurts—" she cried out.
Julian’s hand paused.
In that instant, it was as if he had been struck by something; his grip loosened. He looked down at her, at her brows furrowed in pain, at her injured left hand, and at the blood slowly seeping beneath the gauze.
Nina clutched the flash drive tightly, looking up at him, her eyes reddening. "Are you insane?" her voice trembled.
Julian stood there. "Don't call the police."
Nina was stunned. "You know it was her? You saw what she did? Changing the lock, setting the fire, nearly burning me to death inside—and you’re telling me not to call the police?"
Julian’s voice was hoarse. "She didn't do it on purpose."
Nina couldn't believe it.
"She was just impulsive and wanted to let off some steam." Julian looked at the wall, refusing to meet her eyes. "You did those things to her before; it's normal for her to be angry."
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Julian stood by the bed, taking a deep breath. "In all these years of marriage," he said, "I’ve never asked you for anything."
Nina turned her head, looking at him.
There was a flicker of evasion in Julian’s eyes, but he didn't avoid her gaze.
"This one time," he said, "can you let her go?"
"Fine. Tomorrow, accompany me to the old family estate."
"Okay," he said.
The next day, at the old estate. Nina’s father stood at the entrance. Seeing Julian get out of the car behind Nina, he paused, his gaze lingering on him for a moment, but he said nothing.
"Wait here," Nina said, and Julian nodded.
Nina followed her father into the inner chambers. Passing through the corridor, she pushed open a door: it was her mother’s room, left exactly as it had been three years ago.
Her father walked to the cabinet, took out a rosewood box, and handed it to Nina.
"Your mother left this for you," he said. "Before she passed, she gave instructions: once you had been married for two years, have your husband accompany you to pick it up."
Nina took the box. Before her mother had passed, she had still been fretting about wanting to see her in a wedding dress, wanting to see the man she had married.
But Nina had never brought him here once; he had refused to come.
Her father remained silent for a moment, reached out to pat her shoulder, said nothing, and turned to walk out.
Julian was still standing in the courtyard. Seeing her walk out, his gaze landed on the box in her arms.
On the way back, neither of them spoke.
At 10:00 PM.
Nina had just laid down when the door was pounded on.
She opened it, and Julian stormed in, grabbing her wrist and dragging her off the bed.
"Where is Clara!" he roared, his eyes bloodshot. "Where did you hide her!"
Chapter 7
Julian’s hand gripped her wrist like a pair of iron tongs. Nina stumbled twice as he dragged her along, her foot slipping, causing her knee to slam against the edge of the bed. She gasped in pain.
"I don't know," she managed to say.
Julian didn't listen at all. He hauled her outward, dragging her out of the bedroom, through the living room, and to the doorway. Dressed only in her pajamas and barefoot, Nina was pulled all the way into the elevator and forced into the car.
The car door slammed shut with a bang.
Julian started the engine and floored the accelerator. Nina sat in the passenger seat, a ring of red marks on her wrist burning with pain. She watched the streetlights flying backward outside the window, saying nothing.
The car headed toward the coast.
When they reached a desolate pier, Julian slammed on the brakes. He got out, rounded the hood, and yanked the passenger door open, hauling Nina out by force.
"Move!"
Nina was dragged forward by him. Under her feet, sharp gravel and weeds dug into her skin, causing intense pain.
By the seaside, a discarded fishing boat was moored against the shore. A person was tied to the mast of the sail.
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