Chapter 451
Chapter 451:
The response came quickly. Not sure exactly. I heard angry people went to her hotel, she ran, and then somehow ended up in the middle of something much worse.
The replies piled on. More cruelty, more satisfaction, more calls for punishment.
Elyse switched back to her public account and posted: Please, let’s not be unkind. I’m sure Kristine didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Let’s wait until she’s safe and can share her side of the story.
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
Elyse is actually talking to us!
She’s defending the person who wronged her. What a genuinely good person.
Don’t be so generous, Elyse — she doesn’t deserve it.
Elyse allowed herself a small, private smile.
Kristine wouldn’t be sharing her side of anything. She wouldn’t survive long enough.
𝘗о𝗽𝗎𝗅a𝘳 𝗌𝘵or𝗶е𝗌 оո ѕ.𝖼𝘰𝗺
In Evira, the pursuit hadn’t let up for a moment.
Davin had nearly broken free several times, but the operation chasing them was too well coordinated. Every time one car fell back, another smoothly took its place, maintaining the pressure without interruption.
Kristine watched the road and picked her moment. “Next corner,” she said. “Jump out there p>
“Understood,” they answered together.
Davin pushed the engine to its limit. The car screamed around the corner and braked for a fraction of a second — just long enough for two shadows to drop out and vanish into a dark alley. Then the car was moving again, full speed down the main road.
It happened so quickly that the pursuing drivers lost a beat entirely.
Had the bodyguards actually just abandoned their client?
“Forget them,” the leader’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’re here for the woman. Stay on her p>
Someone laughed. “Maybe they decided she wasn’t worth dying for p>
The laughter didn’t last long.
Kristine drove like she had been born in a car.
She threaded through heavy traffic with an instinctive fluency that left her pursuers blinking at each other in disbelief. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess, didn’t flinch — she cut into oncoming lanes and came back out clean, reading the road three moves ahead with absolute composure.
They exchanged glances.
None of them had expected this.
They pressed harder on their accelerators, teeth set, determined to close the gap.
Eventually, the car began to slow. The engine had been pushed beyond its limits, and it was starting to fail.
The leader’s voice sharpened over the radio. “She’s losing speed — go now p>
The energy in the convoy shifted immediately. All twelve cars surged forward in unison, engines howling, tires dragging against the road with a sound that cut through the noise of the surrounding streets.
Within seconds, they had her boxed in from every direction.
The leader climbed out, weapon in hand, and approached the vehicle with measured, unhurried steps — the walk of someone who already knew how this ended.
“Out of the car!” he called. “Hands where I can see them. Come out now, and I might let you live p>
His voice offered the words. His eyes offered nothing of the kind.
The car door swung open with a slow, deliberate creak.
A hooded figure climbed out from the driver’s seat.