Chapter 554:
A chill sharpened Rylie’s gaze, her expression hardening into lethal focus. In the cramped space, her body moved with coiled precision, every motion charged with controlled power. She vaulted onto the motorcycle, twisting the handlebars in a sharp, decisive motion. Her core strength surged through the heavy frame, forcing the rear into a sweeping arc, the tail whipping out with the force of a massive hammer.
Two heavy, muffled impacts cracked through the air as the tail smashed into their sides. Both men were lifted off their feet, slammed hard against the wall, and slid down in breathless agony, their cries breaking into ragged groans. They collapsed where they landed, utterly incapacitated.
It was finished in seconds. All four of the once-aggressive thugs were sprawled across the ground, writhing in pain, unable to summon the will to rise. Only then did Rylie swing off the motorcycle with unhurried grace, her movements stripped of any wasted effort, as though the savage encounter had been nothing more than shaking off dust. She didn’t grant the fallen a single glance. Instead, she strode to Zander, swiftly working to free the ropes binding him, her hands steady and efficient until the last knot fell away.
“Are you okay?” she asked, bending down to offer him a hand. Strands of her loose hair spilled forward, catching the midday light in a silken shimmer that held Zander frozen for a breath too long.
He grasped her hand, letting her strength pull him upright.
Once he was steady, Rylie let go and crossed to where the injured men lay sprawled, their groans breaking the heavy air. She placed the sole of her white sneaker firmly on the chest of the largest one, the pressure in her stance as deliberate as the sharp glint in her narrowed eyes. “Are you from Malvren?”
The man’s eyes went wide, panic sparking in their depths. His words tumbled out, choked with fear. “Don’t kill me! I’m just… I only took the job for money.”
“Are you all from the same village?” Rylie pressed.
When the man’s babbling dissolved into incoherence, she reached for a sulfuric acid bottle lying nearby. Without hurry, she twisted the cap open, the acrid fumes cutting through the air, and brought it close enough for the sting to crawl up his nostrils.
Let your imagination soar with gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s．çο𝗺
“Speak clearly,” she said, her voice cold and precise.
“Yes! We’re all from Malvren, Silverbrook Village!” the man blurted, panic cracking his voice.
Rylie tilted the bottle just enough for the liquid to shift inside. “Does the entire village deal in human trafficking and running illegal factories?”
On the map, Malvren Manor lay barely twelve miles from Silverbrook Village, the two linked by a stretch of highway. It wasn’t too far.
The man trembled under her gaze. “Yes… yes, most of us are involved,” he confessed. “We’ve formed a crew—it’s a full-scale gang operation.”
If Lucilla’s home had been overrun with traffickers and gangsters, and she herself had been dragged into that wretched village, then how had her child ended up sold? The logic frayed at the edges. Was it driven by the old, stubborn cruelty of preferring sons over daughters?
Rylie’s voice cut through the man’s panicked breaths. “Do you know Lucilla Avila?”
His brow furrowed, eyes darting in confusion. “What?”
She studied him without blinking, every flicker of his face under scrutiny. “Lucilla Avila, the deranged woman from Malvren Manor.”
.
.
.