Chapter 130
Marco, Sophia, and Megan had decided to part ways and meet Jasper the next day.
but as Marco steered his car toward hits family’s mansion, a dull sense of foreboding began to gnaw at him.
The roads were nearly empty, streetlights flickering like dying torches, and an oppressive silence settled over everything.
Suddenly, a screeching set of headlights tore through the gloom. vehicle slammed into his front bumper, jolting him forward.
He barely had time to gasp before another car rainmed his rear, sandwiching him in place.
Marco’s heart hammered against his ribs. He fought the impulse i flee, but there was nowhere to go.
Then came a sickening crash- an iron baton smashed into the side window.
Glass shards flew like deadly confetti, and he ducked, arms raised defensively.
Too slow.
A rough hand snagged a fistful of his hair, yanking him from the driver’s seat.
Sharp pain exploded through his scalp, and his cry of protest was drowned by the roar of rain and adrenaline.
He hit the pavement hard, cold air punching at his lungs.
Three figures materialized from the shadows, all brandishing iron batons.
Their leader stepped forward, face contorted with a snarl–it was Hank. The rage in his eyes sent a chill through Marco’s blood.
“I told you, Marco,” Hank spat, his fingers knotting tighter in Marco’s hair. “I know every filthy detail about your life. You damn gigolo.”
Marco’s breath came in panicked gulps. Fear snaked through him, coiling around his chest.
“Talk,” Hank snarled, delivering a sudden backhand across Marco’s face, the impact echoing through the deserted street. “Tell me everything about that man. I want it all, down to the name of his dog.”
“I–I’ll talk!” Marco gasped, his cheek stinging, voice trembling. “I swear, I’ll tell you everything.”
Hank sneered, releasing Marco with a sharp shove. In that moment, Marco knew he would betray any secret, spill every piece of gossip, just to survive the night.
Meanwhile, across town, the Kingston banquet wound down, the final guests drifting out under the glittering lights of the grand hall.
Jasmine Kingston had presided over the evening like a monarch, her every word measured, every look commanding.
By the end, the onlookers whispered in awe.
Many believed she would steer the Kingston empire to new heights, perhaps even surpassing what Alfred Kingston had achieved.
Others those secretly allied with Harlan Drake–departed with uneasy looks.
They’d underestimated Jasmine, and now, they felt wedged between two snapping jaws: a tiger on one side, a wolf on the other.
In a private suite overlooking Vancouver’s skyline, Jasmine found Alex waiting.
The marble floors felt cold against her heels, but the instant she saw him, the ice in her demeanor thawed,
She moved into his arms, burying her face against his chest.
“Well?” she asked softly, exhaustion threading her voice. “Did I pull it off? Did I seíze Vancouver tonight?”
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Chapter 130.
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Alex’s gaze softened. “You did what needed to be done. You’re to her than most people can handle,”
A tremor passed through Jasmine, “I never wanted to be cruel. But hey betrayed Kingston first… I–I couldn’t afford to show mercy.
“Jasmine,” Alex said gently, “sometimes survival means you dont have a choice. You’re stronger than you know.” She leaned into him, inhaling the faint scent of leather and comfort, the only refuge in her storm of deceit and danger. He understood the burdens she carried–understood the predators Jurking in every corner, waiting for her to stumble. She lifted her eyes to his. “Alex… do you ever think we could leave all this behind? Just vanish to a quiet place where the world doesn’t follow?”
He exhaled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. His own demons–his parents‘ unsolved murders–still held him captive. “Maybe someday,” he said softly.
Jasmine bit her lip, as if wrestling with a heavy secret. Finally, it tare free like a confession. “I know where Chris Roland and Bianca are hiding–and where they stashed the stolen money.”
Alex straightened, surprise lighting his face. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“No,” she whispered, voice tight. “It’s terrible.”
His expression darkened. “Why?”
Jasmine’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Because my brother Charles is hiding them. He has the money. He’s betraying the Kingston family… betraying me.”
A pained silence fell between them. Alex knew precisely what this meant: Jasmine would have to strike at her own blood or risk the Kingston legacy.
Elsewhere, six cars tore through Vancouver’s streets like a pack of wolves on the hunt.
Pedestrians leapt aside, curses turning to screams when one of the cars nearly clipped a trio of teenagers.
The boys, anger flaring, hollered after them, only to go silent when the convoy screeched to a halt.
Doors flung open, and armed men spilled onto the road like a tide of violence.
Iron batons gleamed under flickering streetlights, and machetes winked with malicious intent.
The teenagers scattered, fear overriding their bravado.
From the lead car, Hank emerged again, every step radiating menace. “Apartment 406,” he barked.
“We want Sophia Lancaster.”
A chorus of affirmations rippled through the twenty thugs as they stormed the building.
The thunder of their boots echoed in every stairwell.
Neighbors, peeking through door cracks, blanched and hurried to lock themselves in.
A suffocating dread choked the halls.
Inside apartment 406, Sophia slept unaware, her family also lost in slumber.
The violent pounding on the front door tore them awake, followed by the splintering crash of it being kicked off its hinges.
Florence Lancaster, eyes wide, stumbled into the living room.
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Chapter 130
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Five men rushed in, crowding the space with an aura of raw aggression. One stepped forward, voice a hiss.
“Where’s Sophia Lancaster?”
“Who are you?” Florence managed, voice trembling. One of the thugs shoved her, sending her sprawling onto the carpet.
“Don’t make us repeat ourselves,” he sneered.
Justin, Sophia’s father, emerged, panic blanching his face.
Fear rooted him to the spot. Another thug smashed an iron baton into the television, glass and electronics raining down.
Sparks flew in the flickering overhead light.
“Where is Sophia Lancaster–the wife of Alex?” the leader demanded.
Sophia appeared in the hallway, clad in a thin nightgown.
Though her heart thundered, she held her chin steady. “I’m Sophia.”
The men parted, allowing Hank to stride forward. He sized her up with cold, triumphant eyes.
“Woman, we meet again. My boss wants a word with you. You’re coming with us.”
“Let me at least change,” Sophia pleaded, voice laced with both fear and dignity.
Hank let out a bark of a laugh, then swung the baton down on Justin’s arm.
A sickening crack split the air, and Justin’s scream churned Sophia’s stomach.
“There’s no time for that. Move, or I’ll spill blood right here.”
Tears gathered in Sophia’s eyes. She fought back a sob and nodded. “Okay… just don’t hurt them.”
He jerked his head toward the door. “Go.”
Florence, voice quavering, cried after them, “Where are you taking my daughter? I’ll call the police!”
Hank glared over his shoulder with a twisted grin. “Don’t bother. They’ve already been paid off. Nobody’s coming to save you.” Sophia cast one last glance at her family, fear and guilt warring in her eyes, before the men dragged her into the corridor.
Doors slammed. Locks clicked. All around them, neighbors cowered behind thin walls, desperate to pretend nothing was happening.
The gang’s footsteps pounded down the stairs, carrying Sophia into the unknown.
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Chapter 131
