?Chapter 1556:


    Marc panted hard, a wild glint shing through his bloodshot eyes. He stepped toward the window and stared at the darkening sky, jaw clenched as his resolve hardened around Nina’s n.


    If gentle persuasion had failed, then force would have to work.


    When the vi went up in mes and Ste had no way out, he would arrive at precisely the right moment and be the one who saved her. In the chaos, no one would notice him taking her away — and once they were overseas, he would find a way to erase her recent memories. Cut off from everyone, with no one to rely on but him, she would stay obediently by his side. After so many years with her, he believed he understood her far better than William ever could.


    Once the thought took hold, it refused to fade. His heart, which had hovered near despair only moments before, burned back to life. This was the only answer he had left.


    The following day, Marc began preparing without dy.


    Although the fire had been nned alongside Nina, he still had to move cautiously and keep it hidden from Amon. Through discreet underground contacts, he obtained several barrels of highly vtile elerant along with a timed ignition device. Nina had already secured the viyout for him. He studied the n for hours, searching for the best point to strike, reying every step again and again until the details were embedded in his mind. He spent the night without sleep, his eyes heavy yet lit with a frantic energy.


    Once every detail was confirmed, he rubbed his sore temples and leaned back, his breathing slowly settling. Before carrying it out, onest task remained — getting his mother Jazlyn out of Choria as soon as possible. He had already asked Nina to book her on the final outbound flight that night.


    It was already three in the afternoon. He showered and headed straight for Jazlyn’s ce. He knew William was ruthless and never let things go. Once he made his move, whether he seeded or not, there would be consequences — and he could not leave Jazlyn exposed to danger. She was the only family he had left.


    That evening, Marc drove to the Walsh family home.


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    Jazlyn was watching television in the living room and startled when he walked in. She was about to speak, but the exhaustion and anxiety carved into his face made her frown immediately. She stood up, worry clear in her voice. “Marc, why are you here today? You look awful.”


    Marc dropped his jacket and sank onto the sofa with a tired breath. “Pack your things. You are flying to Sharbesy tonight and staying there for a while.”


    Jazlyn stared at him in disbelief. “Sharbesy? Why there, and why so suddenly? What is going on?”


    He avoided her eyes, his tone deliberately t. “Nothing is wrong. It is just a trip. You always said you wanted to travel. The ticket is already booked. I will take you to the airportter.”


    Her expression darkened. She stepped closer and studied his face carefully. “Marc, tell me the truth. What are you actually nning?”


    She did not believe for a second that he would send her abroad on a whim — not with this kind of urgency. Her instincts told her it had something to do with that cursed woman again.


    “Mom, I am doing this for your own good,” he said, his voice rising, irritation shing in his eyes. “You lose nothing by going abroad, and you can rx and enjoy yourself. What is wrong with that? Why are you questioning me?” She hadined so many times about wanting to travel — yet now that he was arranging it, she refused. It made no sense.


    But the harder he pushed, the more uneasy she felt. She knew him too well, and his behavior made it in that this was far from a simple holiday.


    Jazlyn leaned back against the sofa and crossed her arms, her voice firm. “I am not going. If you do not exin everything clearly today, I am not stepping anywhere.”


    Marc’s frustration was immediate and visible, a vein pulsing at his temple. He had not expected her to be this unyielding. His n was already at its final stage — if he failed to convince her now, everything would have to stop. That was thest thing he could afford.


    “This is not the time to argue. You have to leave tonight,” he said sharply.


    Jazlyn met his rigid tone with equal coldness. “Marc Walsh, I am your mother.”


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