Chapter 5

The helicopter descended quickly, kicking up a storm of sand. Liam was the first one out, jumping to the ground before it had even fully landed. He ran towards me, a small medical kit in his hand. For a moment, his face showed genuine fear.

"Ava! Ava, hold on!"

He knelt beside me, his hands fumbling with the clasp of the kit. Chloe followed him out of the chopper, her face a mask of feigned concern.

"Oh no, is she okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Liam ignored her. He finally got the kit open and pulled out a syringe and a small glass vial. The antivenom. My only chance.

He prepared the syringe, his hands shaking. As he leaned over to inject my leg, Chloe "tripped." She stumbled forward, knocking the vial from his hand.

It shattered on a rock, the clear liquid soaking instantly into the hot sand.

Silence.

Liam stared at the broken glass, then at Chloe. "What did you do?" he whispered, his voice dangerously low.

"I'm so sorry!" Chloe cried, collapsing into fake sobs. "I tripped! My shoe... it caught on a rock! I didn't mean to!"

"That was the only dose!" the doctor yelled, rushing over from the helicopter. "We don't have any more on board!"

Liam's face was pale. He looked from Chloe's crying face to my rapidly swelling leg. The numbness was already at my knee.

"We have to get her to a hospital," the doctor said urgently. "Now. We might have twenty minutes."

Chloe grabbed Liam's arm. "But the livestream, Liam! Everyone is watching! If you quit now, they'll say she won. They'll say you're weak!"

He hesitated. I watched him, my vision blurring at the edges. I could see the conflict in his eyes: the flicker of concern for my life warring with his pathetic, wounded pride.

His pride won.

He turned back to me, his expression hardening again. He was back in control.

"It's not that bad," he said, trying to convince himself as much as the others. "She just needs to apologize. That's all this was ever about."

He knelt beside me again, his face close to mine. His breath smelled sour.

"Apologize, Ava," he said, his voice a low command. "Just say you're sorry to Chloe. Say it to the camera. Tell them you were wrong. Do it, and I'll fly you to the best hospital myself."

My head was spinning. The world was a hazy, painful dream. But through the fog of the venom, one thing was crystal clear.

I would rather die here than give him the satisfaction.

I looked past him, at the camera Chloe was still holding, and gathered the last of my strength.

"Never," I rasped.

I pushed him away with my hand. The effort was immense, and my arm fell uselessly to my side.

Liam's face twisted in fury. "You stubborn bitch!" he screamed. "You'd rather die than admit you're wrong?"

He grabbed my shoulders. "Hold her down!" he snarled at his bodyguards.

Two large men grabbed my arms, pinning me to the sand. The pain from my feet and my leg was excruciating.

"Get her on her knees!" Liam ordered. "She'll apologize!"

They started to drag me up, forcing my body into a kneeling position. The movement sent a bolt of agony through my leg.

Chloe stepped forward, a triumphant smirk on her face. She leaned down, whispering in my ear so only I could hear. "This is my place now, Ava. You've lost."

She kicked a spray of sand into my face.

As the bodyguards forced my head down, a new sound cut through the air. It wasn't the whir of Liam's rented chopper. It was deeper, heavier, more powerful.

Everyone looked up.

A sleek, black military-grade helicopter was descending rapidly from the sky. It had no markings, but it moved with an unmistakable authority.

It hovered a few feet above the ground, its downdraft a hurricane that sent sand flying, stinging our faces.

The side door slid open. A man stood silhouetted against the bright sky. He wore a tactical suit, and his face was calm and cold.

"Let her go," his voice boomed, clear and commanding even over the roar of the rotors. "Now."