?Chapter 1601:


    Vickie had been raised in wealth and privilege—the epitome of a refined, well-bred woman. In background and bearing, shecked nothing.


    Christina, by contrast, was nothing more than an abandoned orphan, shipped overseas and forgotten for years.


    Her adoptive parents had sent her to a secretive, brutal training program rumored to break even the strongest operatives. No one knew what horrors she’d endured there.


    For all Vickie knew, the men in that ce—beasts wearing human skin—might have already shattered her in ways too vile to imagine.


    Surviving such an inferno? Vickie couldn’t believe any young woman could emerge unscathed.


    Men barely came out alive—what chance did a girl have? Whatever Christina had suffered must have been a nightmare worse than hell itself.


    Jealousy twisted through Vickie’s mind, distorting her expression before she could school it back intoposure.


    Terrence caught it instantly—the flicker of malice in her eyes. His smirk vanished. His piercing blue gaze narrowed, and the air around him thickened with a quiet, lethal energy.


    Those exotic eyes darkened, glinting with a ruthlessness that chilled the room.


    “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Terrence said coldly, his voice low and edged with steel. “Christina isn’t someone you’re allowed to touch.”


    He leaned forward slightly, his posture coiled like a predator ready to strike. Every line of his body radiated hostility—a wolf lurking in shadow, poised to tear out a throat the moment it moved.


    Vickie flinched. The fear knotting in her gut only deepened her envy. Why did every extraordinary man end up worshiping Christina?


    “And what if I do?” she shot back, her tone sharp with defiance.


    The words had barely left her mouth when something icy pressed against her forehead.


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    She froze. He had drawn the gun so fast she hadn’t even seen him move.


    Her mind went nk. Instinct took over, and her trembling hands rose halfway in surrender. Cold sweat beaded at her temple and rolled slowly down her skin.


    Terrence’s expression didn’t waver. He pressed the barrel against her skin twice—slow, deliberate, cruel.


    “I’m not negotiating,” he said evenly, his voice deadly calm. “I’m giving you an order.”


    A suffocating aura of violence poured off him. His dark blue eyes grew sharper, colder, deadlier by the second.


    “If you touch her,” he continued, “I’ll make sure you beg for death.”


    Vickie trembled so violently her knees nearly buckled, but she forced herself to stay still.


    One wrong move, and she knew he’d pull the trigger without hesitation.


    “I— Let’s just talk,” she stammered, her voice cracking under the pressure.


    What kind of man could shift like this—from calm to murderous in a heartbeat? He wasn’t just dangerous—he was unhinged.


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