Chapter 916:
Ten minutes before the tragedy, Rylie and Samson had come across another SUV. A plan was already forming in Rylie’s mind.
“The villa is heavily guarded,” she said. “I’ll go in first and try to get her out. Do you trust me?”
Samson’s eyes burned with desperation. “If you can save her, please do.”
Rylie gave him a brief nod, whispered a few quick words, then disappeared into the shadows beside the road.
When the SUV approached, Samson sprang from the bushes, shouting, “Where’s my daughter? Bring her back!”
A gunshot shattered the car window, and the vehicle screeched to a stop.
In that instant, Rylie slid beneath the SUV, gripping the metal frame tightly.
With Rylie in position, Samson charged forward—his ferocity sending the SUV’s occupants scrambling in panic.
The men in the SUV were employees of the reserve. Marlin had warned them that a child might have wandered inside. Killing was not part of their plan; they only wanted to find the girl and take her out quietly before the wealthy hunters noticed. But the message came too late. The girl had already been sent to the villa.
The SUV sped off. As soon as it stopped inside the compound, Rylie slipped out from underneath, melting into the dark like a shadow.
From the villa’s open living room, she saw one of the staff rush in, his voice shaking. “Our vehicle was attacked! The girl’s father is inside the reserve—ah!”
Before anyone could move, they saw the girl carried out, drenched in blood.
“She’s been shot,” one staff member cried. “Get her to the hospital. We can help.”
Hands reached forward, ready to take her.
But the man carrying the child stepped past them and spoke with chilling calm. “Step aside. Help Felipe bring the grinder.”
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“Grinder?” someone blurted, disbelief ringing through the room. “Why a grinder?”
They looked at the bloodied girl again, and the meaning hit like cold water. One worker stammered, his voice shaking, “You mean you’ll… grind her?”
“Mix her with gnu meat. Feed it to the hyenas tomorrow. No one will know the difference.” Kailee stepped forward, her voice soft and controlled. “As for that farmer, pay him off. If he refuses—”
She drew a quick line across her throat with her finger. “If he still protests, blame it on trespassing. We’ll bring in another pack of hyenas. If anything happens to him, who will be blamed? And the girl… she may already have been killed by the very lion she loved most. We had no choice but to hunt it, cloaked in the pretense of a rescue.”
The scheme was monstrous and precise—kill the girl, stage an animal attack, erase the evidence.
The wealthy guests caught onto the plan and nodded in ugly agreement. Conscience flickered, then died.
The staff stared at the floor, lips sealed.
No one dared to object, not when the cost of defiance was so clear.
The workers set the grinder down on the tile near a drain. Guests reached for knives.
.
.
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