Chapter 926:
One man finally breathed out, awed, “That’s really the godfather’s sister? I’ve never seen anyone fight like her. Her aim’s terrifyingly sharp. No wonder he values her so much.”
Rylie and Deandre fought like they’d trained together for years. He held the front line; she struck from the shadows. Their rhythm was flawless, whether it was their first time or not.
Even Deandre found himself momentarily stunned by her speed. “She’s unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.
A Costa member dashed up beside him, eyes wide with admiration. “Boss—if your sister helped out with collections, I swear no debtor would ever dare to hide. She’s unstoppable!”
Deandre shot him a flat look. “She’s not built for this life,” he said simply. “She’s still too vulnerable.”
The words had barely left his mouth when Rylie proved just how wrong that sounded.
A towering guard—nearly two meters tall—lunged at her. She ducked under his swing, then launched herself like a spring. Her forehead slammed into his with a sickening crack. The man staggered back, dazed.
Rylie landed neatly on her feet, vaulted forward, pinned him down, and delivered a solid punch that knocked two of his teeth loose. He dropped instantly.
The Costa member blinked, dumbfounded. “Vulnerable?” he muttered. “Her head’s made of steel!”
As the skirmish wound down, Britton’s backup team still hadn’t entered. They were waiting for her signal—and wary of the lion pacing near the gate.
When the electric grid went silent, the beast leapt the fence and padded into the villa.
Over the radio, Storm’s easy voice broke through. “The lion’s started dinner. Let’s wrap this up and grab coffee after. Maybe some juice on the side.”
L𝓐tєѕτ chʜɑρτєrs ιn g𝒶l𝑛ovєl𝑠.ⲕоm
Britton chuckled. “Or we hit the biggest mall in town. The one with the giant screens.”
Nightingale groaned in the background. “Save me a slice of cake. I’m still stuck finishing the boss’s work.”
The fight raged from the upper floors down to the grand hall.
Chandeliers lay shattered across the marble floor. Priceless furniture had become barricades. Bullet holes riddled the walls. The air stung with gunpowder, smoke, and the sharp tang of blood.
Deandre’s pistol clicked empty. Without hesitation, he slammed in a fresh magazine and fired again.
Rylie ducked behind a marble pillar, checking her own weapon—only a few rounds left.
And just when it seemed they were closing in on victory, the tide of battle shifted without warning.
A guard crouched behind a massive wooden carving spotted Deandre changing his magazine. Rylie stood a few feet away, her full attention locked on the fight ahead.
A sharp gleam flickered in the man’s eyes. He lifted his gun, taking aim at the siblings—Deandre’s back turned, Rylie exposed.
His pulse quickened as he remembered his boss’s promise: a million more for killing the woman.
.
.
.