?Chapter 1092:


    “Bingo, Mr. Nelson. Right on target.” Rosanna’s tone turned yful, almost sing-song. “I’ll use him to destroy Maia.”


    “This feels like rather an interesting notion.” Austen lowered his eyes,ughing under his breath as he tenderly brushed Rosanna’s slender chin, a trace of yful cunning shimmering within his gaze.


    At first, his new sister-inw had been nothing more than a diversion for him, a fleeting distraction. Yet as time passed, Austen realized he no longer knew whether he was the maniptor or the manipted, for the game seemed to tighten its grip around him.


    Raindrops slipped unnoticed, speckling Austen’s jacket and moistening Rosanna’s lightly curled tresses.<fn17f4> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? </fn17f4>


    Vapor drifted across the faraway hills, weaving a spectral and uneasy mood as rainfall and firelight intermingled in the open air.


    “Come on. The rain’s falling,” Austen murmured, drawing Rosanna into his hold, his tonenguidly deep while a sly, almost wicked smile edged his lips. “Since I’ve aided you so much, shouldn’t you grant me something in return?”


    Rosanna’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes alluring as though intoxicated. She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “How about… we don’t go back tonight? Let’s search for another ce and really unwind?”


    A sudden ze of desire red in Austen’s eyes.


    In the following instant, the pair hurried off through the storm.


    Elsewhere, mes surged from beneath the cliff.


    The vehicle that had recently gone over erupted once again, hurling fiery streaks into the night sky, setting alight the nearby shrubs and brittle twigs. The rain fell like tears from the sky… yet even the torrent failed to smother the inferno stoked by gasoline.


    “Good heavens! That nearly killed me; I was close to finished,” muttered a middle-aged fellow in a dark brown outfit bearing the word “Ranger” on the sleeve. He spat into the dirt, trying to rid his lungs of the acrid smoke.


    He had been patrolling close by and rushed to aid the two passengers the moment the automobile plummeted, only for it to explode as he stepped away. Drawing a long breath to steady his nerves, the ranger studied the two motionless figures resting under the tree.


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    “Fortunate you ran into me, or nothing would have remained to bury,” he grumbled to himself while moving nearer, first examining Sandra, who seemed less injured. “Hey! Wake up! Are you still alive?”


    She gave no reply, yet he found a faint exhale when he pressed a finger beneath her nostrils.


    The ranger then turned toward Richard, whose brow was streaked with blood.


    As he inspected him, Richard’s eyes fluttered open, zed with disorientation. He seemed ready to speak, but before a word escaped, he copsed again into unconsciousness.


    “Don’t give up on me!” the ranger leaned forward, confirming Richard was still alive, then swiftly called emergency services, stating their whereabouts. At that instant, a mobile rang inside the clothing of the injured, senseless man.


    Pausing, the ranger reached into Richard’s pocket and retrieved the device. The fractured disy revealed the name of the caller—Jarrod.


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