?Chapter 1388:


    It was as though dying for their business was some kind of honor.


    “You sound… proud of it,” Ophelia said quietly.


    Her difort deepened as she watched his face twist with satisfaction. There was no remorse in his eyes—only the thrill of dominion, of ying god over lives that weren’t his to control.


    “Of course I am!” Howard dered, throwing his arms wide. “A swarm of ants should feel honored to serve the Lloyd family. It’s their only purpose in life!”


    The expression that crossed his face was grotesque—a smile too wide, too eager, distorting his once-dignified features. His skin was taut, unnaturally smooth for his age.


    Ophelia’s gaze lingered on him, her stomach twisting. He looked like a man who had cheated nature itself. He must have done something to himself—something unholy.


    For the wealthy, wealth alone was never enough. Once they owned the world, they sought to outlive it—even if it meant sacrificing others to chase immortality.


    These people were maniacspletely consumed by darkness and drunk on their hunger for power.


    Ophelia’s mind raced as she struggled, desperate to find a way to break free and escape. Suddenly, she heard frantic footsteps echoing down the corridor.


    “Bad news! Someone’s broken in!” A wiry man stumbled inside, gasping for breath, terror etched across his face.


    “You worthless coward! Frightened over something so small? What use are you? You’ll never amount to anything!” the one-eyed man snarled, kicking him hard in the ribs.


    The scrawny man crashed to the floor, but scrambled up in a panic. “That woman… she’s terrifying! She took down a bunch of our men—alone! Her moves were unreal.”


    His voice quivered as he swallowed, the memory of her piercing eyes and that faint, mocking smile sending a shiver down his spine. She was far more frightening than anyone from the Lloyd family.


    “Damn it! That woman’s courting death—how dare she ughter so many of my men!” the one-eyed man roared, pulling out his pistol, his temper boiling over.


    L?t??τ чh?ρτ?r? ιn gɑl??οv?l?.сo??


    Howard watched from his chair, a faint smile curling on his lips as if the chaos before him were a show put on for his amusement. There was no panic in his eyes—only a flicker of exhration. If they caught Christina, he would finally uncover his grandson’s whereabouts.


    “Take the girl. We’ll go greet Christina,” Howard ordered coolly, confidence gleaming in his gaze, already picturing his victory.


    In his mind, he could already see Christina begging, her arrogance crushed beneath his heel. He would make her pay for her insolence.


    Momentster, two burly men stormed in, untied Ophelia, and hauled her roughly out of the basement.


    By the time they dragged her outside, Christina had already wiped out the men posted there. Blood stained her clothes, bright and fresh against the dark fabric.


    “Don’t move!” the one-eyed man barked, pressing the cold muzzle of his gun against Ophelia’s head.


    It was obvious—one wrong move from Christina, and he would pull the trigger without hesitation.


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