?Chapter 1353:


    The man rose gracefully, his shirt gaping open to expose a perfectly sculpted corbone, radiating careless charm and dangerous maism.


    He glided two steps closer to Sadie, a ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.


    “Sadie Hudson, correct?” His voice carried anguid, hypnotic quality that seemed to contradict any sinister purpose. “Surrender Brenda’s files, and I’ll grant you freedom. What do you say?”


    Sadie responded with nothing more than an icy stare, though her fingers betrayed her tension by gripping the edge of her blouse.


    The man confronting her was Afara, the traitor who had turned against the Wolfpack, left Noah grievously wounded, and now held her captive.


    He appeared harmless, almost impossibly attractive, but the predatory gleam lurking behind his warm gaze revealed aplexity that chilled her blood.


    “And who exactly are you?” Sadie demanded.


    Afara released a low chuckle, as though she had delivered the most delightful punchline.


    He drew out a chair with theatrical courtesy, gesturing for her to sit, before sinking back into his seat with practiced nonchnce.


    “I am Afara.”


    Sadie remained perfectly still.


    Her thoughts churned frantically, struggling to unravel the twisted situation.


    Emerson coveted whatever her mother had left behind, and apparently, so did this man called Afara.


    One was her blood father, the other a turncoat from Emerson’s organization.


    What could they possibly be hunting with such desperate determination?


    She jolted back to the present, her stare piercing Afara like a de seeking its target.


    “The Wolfpack craves it, and so do you. Who are you serving?”


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    Afara lifted his shoulders in a gesture of innocence. “I never saw eye to eye with that stubborn old fool Emerson, so I’m pursuing my own interests. Everyone protects their skin—it’s simply human nature.”


    He delivered these words as though discussing the weather, yet Sadie refused to ept even a syble of his exnation.


    She had escaped one predator’sir only to stumble into another’s trap. Now, it became clear that Afara posed an equal threat to Emerson. No, Afara might prove even more lethal than Emerson.


    Emerson’s brutality and hunger for dominance were openly apparent, but Afara remained shrouded in enigmatic shadows that concealed his true intentions.


    “It cannot possibly be that straightforward!” Sadie scoffed with contempt.


    Her gaze identally shifted to his upraised arm.


    The sleeve of his ostentatious silk shirt had shifted, exposing a small section of skin at his wrist.


    A tattoo marked the spot—a ck bat with wings outstretched, poised for flight.


    Despite its modest size, the design disyed remarkable intricacy, each line carved with razor precision.


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