Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
Seeing that they truly didn’t know, Mirabella turned to her brothers.
“Lock them up for now,” Hans commanded, and the head of security immediately motioned for his men to move in.
“Hold up,” Mirabella whispered to the security chief, “check the place for bugs.”
It stroke her that the hitmen could have been here ahead of her and possibly left behind some nasty surprises.
Hadn’t expected Ms. Bella to be so vigilant, the security chief nodded and said, “Right away.””Let’s step outside.” Mirabella suggested, leading the way out of the basement to avoid any chance of eavesdropping.
In the garden.
Hans spoke in a calm tone, “Looks like this puppet master is cautious; he guessed right it was a trap and didn’t jump in. Instead, they’ve stirred up panic among the hitmen, pushing them to break out their boss Erik to deal with the mess while he watches from the shadows.”
“If these hitmen managed to free Erik, the puppet master could reap the benefits and sweep them all up in one go. If the hitmen failed, and fell into our hands, it’s no real loss to the puppet master,” Chasel analyzed.
“If Erik won’t show up, and the Collins family remains in the dark about the truth behind that fire accident after a while, the puppet master will figure out that Erik is either dead—because dead men tell no tales—or has keeping his mouth shut for his daughter Serena’s sake. Either way, the puppet master won’t show up easily,” Sean added, “then we’ll be exposed while our enemy keeps hiding in the shadows, leaving us vulnerable on all fronts.”
“You got it spot on,” Mirabella chimed in, “Next up, the puppet master’s gonna be peeping at our every move. What we gotta do ain’t to mess up our own game, but to lock up these hitmen and keep spreading the word that Erik’s hanging by a thread and ready to spill the beans on the past at any moment. That’ll make them antsy enough to slip up.”
Mirabella continued, “With holidays coming, both kin and business associates are likely to drop by—
especially after my identity’s out in the open—we’ll have even more visitors. If our mystery foe wants to check if Erik’s really kicked the bucket, they’ll probably come snooping around themselves.”
With a sly smile, she added, “Then, we’ll see who’s too curious about Erik, and who wants to sneak down to the basement. That’s when they’ll show their true colors.”
“You’re right on the money,” Hans agreed, “With New Year around the corner, I reckon they won’t stir the pot in the next couple days, so as not to raise any alarms.”
Chasel grinned, “Just as sis said, we wait for them to come knocking during the festivities, and everything will be clear as day.”
After all, those who didn’t know them had no reason to harm them. It had to be someone close who planned the clinic fire back in the day.
What the mastermind had aimed to snuff out were Kenneth and Louisa.
Mirabella was just an unintended pawn in this conspiracy, which led to a whole series of events.
“As we nabbed all the hitmen today, they’ll know we are gonna beef up security, and would definitely not waltz in here to meet their maker in the next few days,” Clark confirmed.
“Now, we just need to hear how Sean’s holding up.”No sooner had Mirabella finished speaking than the head of security stepped forward, “Ms. Bella, we’ve thoroughly checked the basement; it’s clean of any bugs. We’ve scoured the place inside and out, multiple times.”
Mirabella nodded and whispered her next instructions.
Hearing Ms. Bella’s plan, the security chief was impressed with her smarts and promptly saluted, “Understood.”
“Sis, your noggin’s sharper than a tack. They’ll likely buy into it.” Clark patted Mirabella’s head, amazed at her calm and strategic mind in the face of danger.
Meanwhile.
Ophelia had just left the Collins residence when she realized she was being tailed.
As a pro race car driver, she spotted seven or eight cars doggedly pursuing her. Though she managed to shake off a few, the rest clung on stubbornly.
While passing under a bridge under construction, her car skidded after a silenced shot took out her tire, and crashed into a bridge column. Glass shattered all around her.
The airbag deployed just in time, but a shard nicked her forehead.
A dozen hitmen jumped out, firing at her car relentlessly.
Ophelia unbuckled and ducked low, as bullets turned her car’s interior to swiss cheese.
Someone tossed a smoke grenade inside. The smoke was thin, but it made her drowsy. She tried covering her nose, but the fatigue was relentless.She saw the potted plants Bella had given her had toppled over, soil scattered all over. She reached out, but as her bun was peeked out by the hitmen, she got shot and was forced back down.
Suddenly, more vehicles approached fast and stopped nearby.
Ophelia knew her luck had run out.
She pulled out her phone wearily, and the first contact was Bella.
She sent Mirabella a voice message, “Bella, looks like your plants won’t make it. Next time, bring me something cheaper, or I’ll feel bad. Drop by my folks, and marry Romeo soon. Live a safe and happy life and no more dangerous stunts”
Including avenging her.
Ophelia released the button and sent her voice message. As footsteps approached, she knew it was the end.
The acrid smoke filled her lungs, leaving her as helpless as a fish on a cutting board, which was ready for the taking.
If it weren’t for the disorienting fumes and her complete lack of weaponry, she could have easily slipped away with her skills.
The car door swung open, and Ophelia, drained of strength, closed her eyes when she faintly heard someone calling out to her.
“Ophelia??”
It was a voice laden with urgency.
“Ophelia??”
The tone was tender and cautious.
“Ophelia???”
The very next moment, she felt herself being lifted.
Who would be calling her Ophelia??
Barely managing to pry her eyelids apart, she saw Sean’s face.
Why was she thinking of Sean on the brink of death? It must be that this man left such a dark mark on her.
“Snap out of it!!” Sean cradled Ophelia in his arms; seeing her eyelids drooping, his eyes were ablaze with a bloodthirsty frenzy.His underlings had already captured a dozen or so hitmen.
Staring at the defeated thugs before him, he said with a voice thundering with fury, “What did you do to her??”
Sean kicked the closest hitman, sending him flying several feet, “What the hell did you do to her??”
Still, no answer.
He brutally kicked another in the face, turning the man’s features into a bloody pulp. As the hitman fell, Sean delivered another savage kick to his head.
The scene was gruesome; the remaining hitmen hadn’t anticipated the legendary Mr. Collins to be so violently unhinged.
In the midst of this, Ophelia’s grip on Sean’s coat began to loosen, her hand falling limply to her side.
Sean was frantic, “You can’t die! I haven’t confessed my love to you yet, and you haven’t agreed to be my girl; I forbid you to die, wake up!!”
Ophelia was just weak and craving for sleep, yet Sean’s absurd and imperious declaration forced her eyes open once more. There he was, his face etched with urgency, even with a tinge of sorrow and distress.
What was going on??
Was Sean feeling sorry or upset for her? It couldn’t be that. He was the last person to cut her any slack, let alone show compassion.
It must be the hallucinogenic effects of the smoke bomb.“Yes, that’s it, keep your eyes on me! It’s Sean!” He jostled the girl in his arms, “I like you, damn it, and you can’t die on me!”
The underlings around him were taken aback – even Sean’s love confessions were laced with rage.
Ophelia doubted her own ears.
Sean liked her???
What a ludicrous hallucination.
Exhausted, she no longer wanted to waste energy pondering the impossible. She was about to close her eyes again when Sean bellowed, “You dare die on me, just try it??”
The guy wouldn’t stop yapping in her ear, which was driving Ophelia nuts!
All she wanted was to catch some z’s, but then she heard him snap, “What the hell did you do to her?
Nobody’s answering? Fine, then start slicing off their flesh strip by strip for a good week or two before killing them.”
Ophelia couldn’t believe her ears: Who’s this monster?
When Sean scooped her up to leave, one of the mercenaries finally blurted out, “It was the sleeping gas.”
They couldn’t figure out why Sean was so on edge.
“Anyone who smells it will zonk out for ten hours and that’s it.”
As the killer finished, his eyes shifted to the girl in Sean’s arms.
Maybe she was still semi-conscious because Sean was too loud, so loud that she couldn’t fall asleep right away.
Sleeping gas?
Just puts one to sleep?