?Chapter 1219:


    Shock rattled him to the core. All those stories about bears being poor swimmers were nothing but lies.


    “Somebody help me!” Jarrod shouted, thrashing through the water as he struggled toward the opposite bank.


    Maia wrapped up her final surgery of the day and finally made her way back to Elysium Apartments.


    All she wanted was a few hours of real sleep. Then she would wake, prepare her gown for the banquet, review tomorrow’s n with Chris, and—if luck allowed—steal another stretch of rest afterward.


    Being a surgeon, she realized again, was easily one of the most exhausting jobs in existence.


    Thatst operation alone had stretched for six relentless hours. Yet under Carsen’s steady mentorship, Maia felt her confidence growing—especially with Chris’s uing procedure looming ahead.


    When she entered the apartment, her gaze instinctively swept to the kitchen, then to Chris’s room.


    He wasn’t home.


    That was strange. He had told her clearly that he wouldn’t be going out for a while.


    Maybe something urgent hade up? She hesitated, then pulled out her phone and sent him a message: “I’m home. When will you be back?”


    After that, she headed to her room, changed into her pajamas, and copsed onto the bed.


    Within minutes, exhaustion imed her.


    Meanwhile, across town, Chris steered his car toward a secluded manor near the airport.


    He parked, lifted the titanium mask from the passenger seat, and carefully fitted it over his face.


    In an instant, his aura transformed.


    Gone was the mild-mannered illegitimate son everyone dismissed.


    Feel the thrill at g aln  ov el s .


    In his ce stood the maskedmander—the leader of The Mask, a figure whose very name sent tremors through the underground world.


    A man approached, his tone respectful. “Sir, I’ve informed all four as you instructed. They’ve justnded at Wront Airport and are en route. My men have also secured surveince within a three-kilometer radius.”


    Chris gave a curt nod and strode toward the old rose-covered manor—once his father Kyle’s estate, long before the family fractures began.


    At three in the afternoon, in the refreshment lounge of the Marclif Hotel, Rosanna sat stiffly beneath a wide-brimmed hat that nearly swallowed her face.


    She scanned the area with anxious eyes. Thest thing she needed was for Anti to spot her meeting Raegan. If that “idental encounter” from the morning got exposed, everything would crumble.


    “Let’s go. We’ll talk somewhere else.” The low,posed voice came from right behind her.


    .


    .


    .