Felicia's audacity in taunting Maurice stunned his men. But instead of anger, Maurice burst into laughter, smacking the armrests of his wheelchair; his deep chuckles vibrated through his chest. When he finally calmed down, he looked at Felicia with a sly smile. "I'll give you that—you're definitely unlike other women. No wonder you caught Stephan's eye."

In a flash, the pieces fell into place. Felicia's mind raced; she recognized him. The only one bold enough to abduct her in broad daylight, speak of Stephan with such hostility, and fly her toward Ablil was Maurice—the tyrant of Ablil, also known as a mad dog.

Felicia's stomach churned, but she maintained her composure. At least she'd sent Carmen away beforehand. Only God knew what this lunatic would have done if Carmen had been there too. Maurice studied her face, his smile deepening. "Judging by that look, I'd say you've figured out who I am."

"Nope. Never heard of you," Felicia replied, refusing to give him satisfaction. Even knowing his identity, she wouldn't let him gloat; denial would irritate him further.

Maurice remained unfazed. Leaning back lazily, he said, "How about I give you a chance? You're my hostage now. If you want to live, let Stephan come save you." He tossed a communicator onto the seat, smirking. "Call him. Video, voice—whatever. Say anything to lure him into my trap. Pull that off, and I'll let you go. I promise." He raised an eyebrow, a sly chuckle hinting at a sarcastic remark about lovebirds.

But Felicia cut him off. "I handle things myself. Relying on someone else? Not my style." She wouldn't gamble her life on someone else's mercy. Stephan had saved her before—dismantling the Lawson family's threats, ousting Arnold as heir, installing Mike, and giving her an oil field and a mine. Without Stephan's influence, she wouldn't have received an apology, let alone compensation.

But that was precisely why she couldn't rely on him—or anyone. To stand tall, she had to build her own strength; depending on others was folly. Besides, she wasn't naive enough to believe Stephan would risk himself for her. Banking on someone else's emotions was a losing strategy.

Felicia shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Of course I want to live. That's why I'll ensure I do. On my own terms."

This time, Maurice looked genuinely surprised. Her refusal didn't stem from arrogance, but from unwavering self-reliance.

"Interesting," Maurice murmured, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips. "But if I decide to kill you, what makes you think you can escape me?" Felicia didn't answer.

At some point, she had slipped free of her bonds. She approached him step by step, her calm composure unnerving his men. One of them moved to stop her, but Maurice signaled him to stand down.

Felicia stopped before him, leaning forward slightly. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulder, framing her face like a silk curtain in the cabin's gentle breeze. She locked eyes with him, her gaze steady and unflinching.

"What if," she said slowly, enunciating each word, "I could fix your legs?"