?Chapter 1385:


    Before Darian could react, Terrence pressed the burning cigar into his right eye.


    The scream that followed was raw and inhuman, echoing off the walls. “No…”


    Darian thrashed violently, his hands wing at the air, but two men restrained him with ease. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, thick and nauseating.


    The agony was beyond anything he had ever imagined. For the first time, Darian understood the pain he had so easily inflicted on others.


    As his consciousness began to fade, he heard Terrence’s voice—low,posed, merciless.


    “Let him suffer a little longer,” Terrence said, brushing ash from his fingers. “Then sell him off—just as he sold others. He enjoys trading people, doesn’t he?”


    Terrence turned to leave, his expression calm, lips curled in a devilish smirk. No one dared touch what was his and get away with it.


    Two weekster, Christina suddenly received a call from an unknown number.


    She frowned and answered, but didn’t say a word, waiting to hear who was on the other end.


    After a few seconds, a mechanical, emotionless voice came through—cold and distorted, impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman.


    “Miss Jones?”


    “Yes.”


    “I’ve kidnapped Ophelia,” the voice dered without hesitation. “Do exactly as I say ande to the address I give you. If you’rete… she dies.”


    Christina’s frown deepened, but her tone stayed even. “I don’t know anyone named Ophelia.”


    The voice chuckled, a low, mocking sound. “You two really don’t know when to behave, do you?” it sneered.


    The line hissed with static, and then a panicked voice broke through. It was Ophelia’s.


    “Christina? I don’t even know her! I’m from the Vaughn family, you—”


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    Ophelia’s shaky plea was cut off mid-sentence. A sharp p rang out, harsh and cruel, meant to hurt. The sound silenced her immediately.


    Christina’s fingers tightened around her phone until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes darkened with a cold, murderous gleam. Whoever was on the other end had just crossed a line.


    From the sting in that sound alone, she could tell it was a vicious hit, the kind that left a mark.


    Rage surged through her veins. In that instant, she wanted nothing more than to track the bastard down and end them herself.


    “I’lle,” Christina said coldly, her voice steady despite the fury behind it. “Tell me where.”


    The voice let out a strange, twistedugh, a sound that made the air around her feel even colder.


    “Good,” it said smugly. “Come alone. And if you bring the police, you’ll only be collecting her corpse.”


    “Alright,” Christina replied firmly. “No police. You have my word.”


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