?Chapter 1545:


    Robin swallowed hard and nodded. “Alright. But be careful. If anything feels off, call for backup. Don’t throw yourself into danger.”


    “Okay.” Christina’s voice softened slightly.


    She grabbed her phone and turned to leave. Without looking back, she said, “Robin, I’m leaving my back to you. Don’t let me down.”


    “You can trust me. I won’t disappoint you,” Robin said firmly.


    She had ced absolute faith in him—and he knew he couldn’t afford to fail.


    Christina stormed into the garage, slid into her supercar, and gunned the engine. The tires screeched as she sped toward the red dot’s signal.


    Her eyes remained steady, her expression hardened, her mind sharp and focused.


    The red dot’s movement and her own coordinates reyed over and over in her head.


    Her thoughts worked withputer-like precision, calcting the quickest routes in seconds—most of them cutting through rows of traffic lights, minimizing travel time.


    Christina drove with cold precision, keeping the car at the upper limit of the legal speed as she narrowed the distance. When she hit the highway, she pushed the car to its limits.


    Out on the outskirts, the supercar’s deep growl drew too much attention—too loud, too conspicuous. Anticipating the routes her target might take, Christina switched vehicles in advance. She slipped behind the wheel of a in ck sedan—so ordinary it could vanish in any row of parked cars.


    The red dot on her screen stayed perfectly aligned with the coordinates Robin kept rying, proof that the signal hadn’t wavered.


    Atst, it halted inside a long-abandoned vige.


    Before stepping into the vige, Christina pulled out her phone and contacted her team.


    “Miss Jones! We’ve received the location you sent. We’re en route!”


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    Christina’s tone turned iron-hard. “Scarface, hold your position. Tell the sniper to set up. We don’t know how many are inside. No one moves until I give the order.”


    “Yes, Miss Jones!” Scarface replied, his voice crisp and disciplined.


    Bethel woke up slowly inside an abandoned building. Before she could make sense of where she was, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the stillness.


    “Finally awake, are you?”


    She froze. That voice was painfully familiar. It was her son, Trevor.


    She snapped her head up, and there Trevor stood, right in front of her.


    Her wrists were bound tightly to the arms of the chair. She stared at him, stunned, unable to believe this was real.


    “You’re not hurt? You… you did this to me?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.


    Not long before, someone had called to tell her Trevor was badly injured and had been rushed to the hospital. She never imagined it was all a trap he had set himself.


    “If I hadn’t said that, how else could I have gotten you out of the house?” Trevor said with a cold smirk.


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