?Chapter 1517:


    She scrambled into her car, her heart pounding as she struggled to steady her breath in the darkness.


    Shutting the door gave her a fragile sense of safety.


    At least her car was no ordinary ride. With bulletproof ss and a reinforced frame, it was a fortress on wheels.


    Just then, a sudden burst of light shed across her windshield, forcing her to throw up a hand against the harsh re. The brightness was so strong that she couldn’t tell how many people now stood in front of her car.


    Knowing she had already been seen, she twisted the key in the ignition and flipped on her headlights. The beam revealed eight silhouettes lined up in front of her, each one clutching either a bat or a knife, every posture radiating hostility.


    Good thing she had moved fast and gotten inside the car. If she had hesitated for even a moment, they would have beaten her up already.


    She quickly locked the doors.


    The mob was irritated by her headlights, their anger boiling over into snarls and twisted grins as they approached. Sandra’s pulse spiked. Hitting the gas would mean plowing straight through them.


    But if she didn’t, they would hurt her.


    “Get out of the car!” shouted one man, his bat cracking down on the hood with a sharp ng.


    Each strike bounced off harmlessly, leaving nothing but scratched paint. The reinforced shell didn’t bend an inch.


    Sandra’s first instinct was to call Brenna.


    She fumbled with her phone, hands shaking so badly that she nearly dropped it.


    Eventually, she pressed the right buttons and heard the line connect.


    Relief washed over her when Brenna’s steady tone filled her ear, easing her panic.


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    “Brenna, I’m in serious trouble,” she said. “There are guys all around my car with weapons. What should I do?”


    Brenna happened to be in Ethan’s car at that moment, and the two of them were headed to visit Belen.


    “Are you inside the car?” Brenna asked coolly, not the least bit rattled.


    “Yeah, I’m inside. But I’m terrified they’ll smash the ss and drag me out.”


    “Calm down,” Brenna said. “That vehicle’s practically a fortress. They won’t break through the ss easily. Send me your location.”


    The leader of the group, a young man in his twenties with stark white hair, gripped a cigarette between his lips and wielded a steel bat. He swaggered toward Sandra’s car, striking the hood with forceful blows that sent shivers through her. Sandra’s gaze fixed on him, filled with dread and helplessness.


    His aplices fanned out, encircling the vehicle and hammering the windows with fierce intensity.


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