Chapter 1009
Chapter 1009:
Domenic suddenly groaned, his knees buckling. A jagged shard of a test tube was embedded in his shoulder, the pale blue liquid inside already seeping into his bloodstream.
“Miss Roberts… take Mr. Barton through the freight elevator p>
“We go together p>
Yelena tore the hem of her shirt, wrapping it tightly around Domenic’s arm to stem the bleeding. But as her fingers brushed against something unexpected, her stomach twisted. There was a tiny, nearly imperceptible bump sewn into the fabric’s lining. A tracker. It was the custom coat Austin had gifted her just last week.
In her arms, Austin trembled, his bloodstained palm pressing over the back of her hand.
“Whatever I’ve done, I was trying to protect you p>
A weak, bitter chuckle followed, though it was cut short by a ragged cough.
The floor beneath them lurched violently. A faint, acrid scent—burnt, metallic—snaked through the air, curling from the fractured columns. Jaw clenched, Yelena hoisted Austin and Ellen onto her shoulders and bolted toward the elevator.
As the metal doors slammed shut, she caught one last glimpse through the narrowing gap—Leonel’s secretary standing amid the firelight, phone clutched tightly in hand.
The garage on the second basement level reeked of gasoline.
Yelena placed Austin in the backseat, her eyes flickering to the half-charred photo peeking from his suit pocket. She reached for it. The image was faded, but unmistakable—her, sixteen years old, crouched in a medical school dissection room. Beyond the glass window, a blurry figure stood, shielding themselves beneath a black umbrella.
“Go to the Barton estate…” Austin’s weak fingers clamped around her wrist, his fevered gaze dark, yet oddly luminous—a golden-brown gleam that sent a chill through her bones. “The third wooden chest in the attic p>
Before she could respond, the steering wheel jerked violently to the right on its own. A sharp, crimson warning flashed across the control screen. “Autopilot system has taken over p>
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In the rearview mirror, she saw the blood seeping from Domenic’s wound, taking on an unnatural, ghostly blue hue. In the passenger seat, Ellen stirred, her groggy voice cracking through the tense silence. “Where are we? Let me out p>
The tires screeched against the asphalt, but Yelena barely registered it. Her fingers brushed against Austin’s—cold and trembling.
Her breath hitched. The car had a mind of its own. It wasn’t just veering—it was steering itself straight off course.
Yelena slammed her foot against the brakes. Nothing. She tried again. Still, the car didn’t slow.
Her gaze darted to the autopilot’s route. Destination: Suburbs.
The streets were still packed, even in the dead of night.
A black vehicle surged into their path. The other driver reacted quickly, expertly swerving at the last second and narrowly avoiding a full-blown collision.
He rolled down his window, furious. “What the hell are you—” His words faltered. Something about the sheer panic in Yelena’s expression made him hesitate.
The driver found it odd. Maybe the car had been going too fast, and Yelena’s face had blurred past him so quickly that he couldn’t be sure if his eyes had played tricks on him.
Yelena didn’t waste time. She grabbed her phone, dialing swiftly. “Brody. I’m in trouble in Kheley. Send people. Now p>
She rattled off her coordinates and the autopilot’s projected destination before abruptly hanging up.