Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
Seizing a moment, Martha threw a handful of powder at Horace, who quickly shielded his face and staggered back. Martha pulled a gun from beneath a fallen wooden table and fired several shots in Horace’s direction.
Horace moved extremely fast, dodging the bullets with ease.
Wiping blood from her lip, Martha aimed the gun at Horace and questioned, “How did you get free?”
The knots binding them were Doom’s signature, impossible to escape without a blade.
Horace smirked, revealing a hidden razor blade sewn into the hem of his shirt. “Not that it matters now, but we’ve got blades sewn into our clothes. With a thread, we were free.”
Not just him, but Mirabella had several blades hidden too.Whether their hands were bound in front or behind, they could effortlessly access the blades and slice through the ropes.
Mirabella had come up with this trick years ago. The stitching was inconspicuous, undetectable without close inspection, especially in the thick fabric of winter clothing.
And it wasn’t just blades – the button on his cuff hid a lifesaving pill crafted by Mirabella. To an onlooker, it seemed he’d simply rolled his sleeve for comfort, but only he knew its true potential, a secret weapon that could turn the tide when it mattered most.
His belt also contained a clever mechanism. By touching a button on its side, he could quickly draw a small handgun that was capable of firing four bullets.
That wasn’t an original invention of theirs—At the end of the 19th century, military units from other nations had been taken such weapons onto the battlefield. But Mirabella had improved the performance of these older models, to create a safer secret weapon suited for their outfit, the Mafia Flame.
His shoes were no less ingenious. Martha’s goons had only thought to check under the insoles. But the crucial part was in the tiny metal buckle on the shoelaces—By pressing and holding this clasp for two seconds, it could be detached and thrown to the ground to create a thick smokescreen.
It was one of their secret weapons—a smoke grenade.
That’s why, when their car was swarmed by Martha’s lackeys, Horace wondered why Boss Bella was even considering surrender.
With the arsenal they both carried, the odds of escaping were more than good.
Later, as Boss Bella kept grilling the hag with questions and tipping Horace the wink, Horace started to realize Bella was setting a trap for Martha.
But even though it was a trap, seeing Boss Bella being slapped still hurt him.
His Boss, who was worshiped by them as God, was tormented by this old crone!
“That’s quite a lot of gimmicks.” Martha snorted upon hearing this. Raising her gun, she fired into the air and bellowed, “Listen up, everyone! Catch them, tear off their skins, and pull out their tendons—I want them to die so,”
She hadn’t finished her sentence when “bang”—a shot from Mirabella sent Martha’s weapon flying.Mirabella was a crack shot. As her last bullet was spent, she threw down her own gun and moved toward Martha with the grace of a swallow.
Without her gun, Martha was forced to fight hand-to-hand.
But it was clear, Martha was no match for Mirabella.
Mirabella’s skills were forged in countless battles, a far cry from Martha, who had only managed to secure a minor post in Doom.
Mirabella had the upper hand in all aspects—in moves, speed, and strength.
Martha was sent stumbling back with Mirabella’s kick, refusing to accept defeat, she glared at her, “Who the hell are you?”
No average families could raise someone like her!
Could she also be from some organization?
“If I’d known, I would’ve stripped you and that minion.”
Then she would not be snapped by the button from the minion’s shirt, and Serena wouldn’t have been dragged into such a mess.
“Even without my clothes on, your voice can still be recorded. And don’t forget, my hair band also doubles as a camera.”
“What?” Martha stared incredulously at the inconspicuous hair band on Mirabella’s head. If one were to talk of its value, only the tiny diamond tiara counts, which didn’t look pricey anyways—and it certainly looks not like a camera.
“You’re bluffing? That can be a camera?”Mirabella pinched the tiny tiara, and what Martha just said echoed from within it.
Serena, who hadn’t ended the video call, widened her eyes in shock.
She had seen in the news that how someone would disguise micro-cameras as screws, USB drives, lighters.
But the tiara, no one can tell it was a camera at the first glance!
She’d never imagined cameras could be masked as buttons and tiny crowns, yet look so convincing.
What should she do now? Mirabella and her underling both held “incriminating evidence” against her and Martha.
If the evidence fell into the hands of the Collins family, she and Martha would be finished!
Martha was definitely worried that this would pass into the Collins family, which would do no good for her and Serena. So, she reached out her hands and snatched for it.
Mirabella smacked Martha’s cheek, and then quickly punched on her nose. Serena helplessly watched, as blood trickled from Martha’s nose. She barely let out a scream when Mirabella kicked Martha away into a pillar.
Martha’s back hit the pillar with a thud, and she then slid to the floor. But at the sight of the little tiara on Mirabella’s hair bend, she shot a look to her henchmen, and in no time, seven or eight of them charged in.
But Mirabella wasn’t even fazed by these goons. Within seconds, they were sprawled on the ground, defeated.
She advanced toward Martha again.
Serena again, watched helplessly as Mirabella kicked Martha in the head and chest.
“Stop, Mirabella, please stop.”
When Martha was smitten to the ground, coughing up blood, Serena’s eyes welled up with tears.
But Mirabella didn’t go soft. She kicked Martha away to the pillar again, like she was kicking off the trash.
Once more Martha was hit to the pillar, and a fresh wave of blood spilled from her mouth.
Still, as if unwilling to throw in the towel, she struggled to her feet, but only to receive another kick from Mirabella on the face and stomach. She was knocked into the air, crashing into the wooden table, whichwas shattered into pieces.
“Martha, get out of here.” Serena cried out, choked with tears. “Stop fighting, you can’t beat her.”
Somewhere along the line, Steward’s men had made it upstairs, firing at Martha’s henchmen.
Martha wiped the blood from her lips, still wanting to make one last stand.
As she lunged for Mirabella, and reached for her hair bend.
In a flash, Horace kicked one of Martha’s thugs so hard that he flew into her, and they both went tumbling down the stairs.
Serena widened her eyes, stunned, unable to believe what she was witnessing.
Just now.
Martha, who had doted on her for eighteen years, had fallen down the stairs?
Serena’s eyes bugged out, her mind was blank. And it was after quite a while that she caught on Martha’s death.
Martha, who had cared for her for eighteen years with genuine affection, was dead.
“That bitch got off too easy dying like that!”
Coming from her ears was the mutter from one of Mirabella’s underlings.
Serena couldn’t believe it. Tears streamed down her face like pearls scattering from a snapped strand of necklace. Was it Mirabella’s people who killed Martha? Or was it Mirabella herself?
Mirabella or her goons couldn’t be seen from her angle.She only saw Martha trying to stand up, and trying to rush in a certain direction.
Then someone flew in, knocking Martha down the stairs.
It had to be Mirabella!
It had to be Mirabella taking the opportunity to kill Martha!
Serena was both tense and angry, a low sob escaped her throat, which then turned into a loud, anguished scream.
“Mirabella, you murderous fiend, you killed Martha! You vile, despicable woman.”
Ah—
Her Martha was dead!
DEAD!
Horace, who was not far off, brought down a few more thugs and kicked the cellphone on the ground down the stairs.
The screen was shattered.
The video call was cut off automatically.
“What is she making a fuss about,” Horace didn’t pay any attention to the scream. But when he saw Steward leading a group upstairs, he felt a bit worried, “Boss Bella, why are they here? It looks like they’re on the warpath.”
Steward and his crew stormed up. When Steward saw Mirabella and her entourage still alive, both standing on the edge of the 18th floor, he was wild with joy.
Their Ms. Collins was still alive! She was alive and kicking!
At the same time. Sean had been scouring the ground floor but found no trace of his little sister’s body.