Chapter 1392:
But Macauley only laughed harder, his voice thick with madness.
Outside the factory, the people watching the stream could barely stand it.
Alexia was shaking, tears pouring down her face.
“Millie…”
Others clenched their fists, trembling with rage.
“If I ever get my hands on that bastard…”
Nearby, Lynda paced anxiously.
Macauley had been specific about keeping the livestream running, and now the whole world was watching.
“What’s the situation?” Lynda demanded into her walkie-talkie.
“Not good,” came the tense reply.
“We almost had a clean angle, but the target moved back and we lost him. He knows exactly how to block sniper lines. If we take a risky shot and miss, he’ll become more alert. And then… we lose all opportunity.”
Lynda lowered the walkie-talkie, her face tight with worry as she looked at the group beside her.
She had tried to dispatch a squad to slip into the factory and rescue Millie and Ari, but as they neared the area, it became immediately clear: cameras were everywhere. The space was exposed, without a single blind spot—a prison painstakingly crafted by Macauley himself.
Any approach would be noticed. Any misstep could put the hostages in even greater danger.
With two lives hanging in the balance, even saving one wasn’t enough—Macauley could still wield the other as a weapon. Lynda’s chest tightened with anxiety, but there was nothing she could do but wait.
They needed a spark. Something to set events into motion.
Inside the abandoned factory, Millie lay sprawled on the cold ground. Pulling Macauley out of this carefully constructed trap wasn’t an option; he knew every inch of his domain and its limits.
𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗽𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 g𝓪l𝗇ovè𝗅𝓈.𝓬𝗈𝗺
She panted, her eyes darting across the room, memorizing the terrain as best she could.
Another slap sent her tumbling toward a pile of debris. The collision knocked items over—bowls, plates, containers, scraps of metal and glass—clattering to the ground.
The impact shattered them into sharp fragments.
Millie landed on the wreckage, cutting her hands and legs. Blood seeped out, warm and sticky, mixing with the dust and grime on the floor.
“Hahaha, how pathetic!” Macauley sneered.
“Millie, once so prestigious, so proud… what a joke you’ve become!”
Millie lay there, wincing from the pain, unable to rise. Discreetly, she curled her fingers around a jagged shard of broken porcelain.
“Get the fuck up!” Macauley barked.
Slowly, painfully, Millie forced herself upright.
Her wedding dress was streaked with blood now. Earlier, at the banquet hall, she had ripped the hem to give herself more mobility. Now her knees were raw and bleeding, her elbows scraped and gritty with gravel, and every movement sent waves of fire through her body.
Macauley’s laughter echoed again, cruel and unhinged.
“Hahaha!”
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