Vincent’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty edge. “I got lured into a trap,” he replied, his voice low and sharp. “Someone claimed there was an intruder in our hotel room.”
If not for that deliberate misdirection, he would never have left Katelyn alone in such a vulnerable position.
He had believed that keeping Katelyn out of harm’s way by leaving her behind would reduce the risk. Yet, no one could have anticipated the audacity of their enemies, who didn’t hesitate to ignite chaos in a restaurant full of innocent people. Their recklessness defied logic, a blatant disregard for human lives.
Katelyn’s expression grew colder. The question gnawed at her—who had orchestrated this bold attack? At least for now, it seemed unlikely that Sophia had a hand in this.
After the mayhem, the thought of finding another restaurant didn’t appeal to either of them. Vincent promptly arranged for food to be delivered to their hotel room instead.
Meanwhile, his team scoured the city tirelessly, following every lead to track down the perpetrators.
Three hours slipped by.
In a rundown shack nestled within the slums, Brendan lounged on a battered sofa, his polished demeanor at odds with the shabby surroundings. A crystal glass of red wine rested lightly in his hand.
Taking a measured sip, he fixed his gaze on the man standing before him. His lips curled into an amused smile as he asked, “So, you failed?”
The man dropped his head lower, his voice trembling with regret. “I am deeply sorry.”
Brendan’s smile remained unchanged, his tone deceptively calm. “I suppose it’s understandable. Katelyn isn’t exactly easy prey.”
A flicker of relief crossed the man’s face, as though Brendan’s words had offered him a reprieve.
But…
Updates loaded now at gα?ησνe?s?com
That moment of solace shattered with Brendan’s next words. “Still, failing to handle one woman?” His tone sharpened, his smile fading. “Perhaps the world no longer has a place for you.”
Fear etched itself into the man’s features as he abruptly raised his head to face Brendan. His voice trembled. “Mr. Adams, I know I messed up. Please, spare me! I’ll succeed next time, I swear.”
A serene smile lingered on Brendan’s face, giving no hint of anger or impatience.
But that calm facade shattered in an instant. Without warning, he smashed the fragile glass against the man’s forehead, the sharp shards scattering as it broke.
With a chilling lack of hesitation, Brendan gripped the jagged remnants and plunged them into the man’s face with brutal force.
“Ahhhh!” The man’s anguished scream echoed through the room, but it only deepened Brendan’s sinister grin.
Brendan’s voice was steady as he gave his orders. “Make good use of his organs. Sell them on the black market. Even a useless life should serve a purpose.”
His tone was detached, almost casual, as though he were discussing disposing of old furniture, yet the subject was a man’s existence.
Overwhelmed by the pain, the man fell to his knees, his pleas pouring out in desperation. “Please, Mr. Adams! I won’t fail again. Just give me another chance. I don’t want to die!”
.
.
.