Chapter 200:

Corrine was ready. As the thin man lunged, she dodged with ease, snatching his wrist and wrenching it back with brutal force. He yelped as the knife slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.

With a sharp kick, she sent the blade skidding toward Donnelly.

Then, pivoting smoothly, she slammed her elbow into the man’s ribs, yanked his arm behind his back, and flipped him over her shoulder.

The impact sent up a cloud of dust as he crashed onto the ground with a sickening thud, his body curling in agony.

If Donnelly weren’t busy sawing through his restraints, he might have applauded. Seeing his partner crumpled on the ground, the burly man’s face twisted with rage.

“You little—”

With a bellow, he spread his arms wide and charged at Corrine like an enraged bull.

Donnelly flung the knife toward her.

“Heads up!”

She caught it effortlessly, the blade glinting in her grip. As the brute barreled forward, she pressed the cold steel against his thick neck.

A slow, taunting smile curled her lips, the look of a cat toying with a trapped mouse.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.”

From the ground, the thin man groaned, glaring up at her.

“Who the hell are you?”

Corrine didn’t answer. Instead, she drove her heel into his chest, shoving him back down.

Her eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicked over him.

“Take me to your handler.”

Brevard’s operation had a signature method—recruiting low-level thugs from across the country, rotating them constantly to sell products. No one ever dealt twice in the same place.

Each seller had a handler. But only the trusted few ever got close to Brevard himself.

I∆†€$† ¢♄₳þŧëяŞ ¡η gałnøνεlŞ.cø₥

To track down Brevard, Corrine and her team had to follow the trail leading through these two men’s handlers.

A flicker of calculation crossed the thin man’s face.

“If I take you to them, do I walk free?”

“That depends on how useful you are,” Corrine said coolly.

Five minutes later, both men were bound and marched out of the abandoned building.

The sharp command was followed by the thunder of approaching footsteps as a unit of armed officers surrounded them, weapons raised.

“Hands on your heads! Get down—now!”

Corrine’s brow twitched in irritation.

She flicked a glance at Donnelly, who was lazily running his fingers through his hair.

“Tell me you didn’t call them.”

Donnelly snorted.

“You think I’d do something that stupid?”

.

.

.