?Chapter 1218:


    By the time breakfast came to an end, their conversation flowed with such ease that it felt as though they had known each other for years.


    Rosanna believed her sharp eye had made the connection possible, while Anti saw no harm in it—Rosanna was Austen’s wife, after all, someone who might prove useful.


    “Well then, I’ll see you at the charity g tomorrow.” With a quick wave, Anti stepped into the elevator and shed Rosanna a smile.


    Rosanna lifted her hand in return, her mood bright despite the fatigue of a sleepless night. She never imagined that spending time with Anti could be so enjoyable. For the first time in a long while, it felt as if fortune had finally turned in her favor.


    The moment the elevator doors slid shut, Anti’s cheerful expression dissolved into open disdain.


    “Austen’s wife? What an idiot,” she thought coldly.


    Too many times, she had crossed paths with people who engineered “coincidences,” measured every word, and moved with rehearsed nerves. Still, Anti had gained another admirer for the g—one more person who would, by sheer presence, reinforce the lie that she was exactly who she imed to be.


    In the forest park, golden beams filtered through the canopy, sketching jagged patterns across the tent’s fabric. Only a short distance away, a tree trunk bristled with bolts, while the ground beneath it glittered with shards of broken lightbulbs.


    Without warning, a deep roar rolled through the woods, shattering the stillness.


    A massive brown bear burst from the thicket, towering at nearly six and a half feet as it charged the tent, as though the forest itself had sent it to drive the intruder away.


    Jarrod jolted awake and snatched up his crossbow. He slid a bolt into ce and tore open the tent p—only to face the beast’s hulking silhouette looming over him, its body blotting out the light.


    The musky, earthy stink of the animal filled his lungs. The bear growled, stretched its powerful jaws, and lunged forward, swiping with a wed paw.


    “Dammit!” Jarrod shouted, bolting in panic as adrenaline surged through him.


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    If money hadn’t been an issue, Jarrod would have chosen the safety of a shooting range instead of running for his life through this cursed forest park with a brown bear on his heels.


    The thought of firing the crossbow shed through his mind, but the beast was far faster than he had ever imagined.


    Every nce over his shoulder showed the massive animal nearly upon him, leaving him no choice but to throw himself to the ground again and again to avoid its swipes.


    Aiming was impossible, and pulling the trigger was out of the question.


    The tent had already been torn to shreds, and that destruction was the only reason the bear wasn’t already crushing him beneath its weight.


    After another desperate roll, Jarrod sucked in a lungful of air and hurled himself toward the nearby river, clinging to the slim hope of escape.


    The instant he surfaced, dread seized him—the bear had leapt into the water after him.


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