Inside Ethan Mark’s compound, every security guard, under the command of Guard 3 as per Mr. Smith's instructions, assumed strategic positions, reminiscent of a well-orchestrated dance of readiness. At this moment, Mr. Smith was also present in the compound with his two pistols right in his hands as he stretched them forward, ready to shoot any ninjas he saw advancing at him.In this manner, three of the ninjas had been shot right in the arm and ankle and were kneeling on the ground helplessly and in agony by Mr. Smith. He had given a perfect instruction to the guards, ordering them to disable the men in dark clothing's movement rather than killing them, with the expectation that the police would arrive to arrest them in due time.Having delivered six well-placed shots to critical points on each of the three men's bodies, Mr. Smith advanced towards them and kicked their firearms out of reach, as if ridding the scene of potential danger with swift efficiency.In this manner, he removed
Hearing their thoughts on the news about her, Isabella didn't express surprise. She merely chuckled briefly and said to herself,"I couldn't have masterminded something this stupid. Ethan Mark, you just wait and see how I will bounce on you. Trust me, you won't see it coming."Immediately after uttering that, she immersed herself in the phone screen again and listened to what the two journalists were saying live."I don't think it's Ethan Mark's ex-wife, Mrs. Isabella Rosewood, who masterminded this. I mean, she was only angry at the media for showing her family matters on the news, so she spoke to the reporters rudely. She doesn't seem like a person capable of murder. Or rather, we'll have to wait to find out.""You're right, Mrs. Jacob. Let's find out what's happening on the streets of Ethan Mark. Henry, any further developments?"At that moment, Isabella observed how the screen divided again, and the same man she had seen earlier when she started watching this live video reappeared
Making his way through the entrance door of the mansion, Mr. Smith's eyes peered at Guard 2, who was standing alert, ready to fire at any unwelcome guest in dark clothing approaching like a vigilant sentinel on duty.When Guard 2 saw that it was Mr. Smith who had walked through the entrance door, he lowered his pistol from the position from which it had been aimed at the door. However, if that gesture suggested any relaxation in his state of alertness for potential intruders into the mansion, it was a blatant lie.Mr. Smith gave him a nod like a silent affirmation passing between comrades in the heat of battle, and in response, Guard 2 nodded back. Thus, Guard 2 raised his pistol again and pointed it at the mansion door. Similarly, he kneeled in a strategic position that would protect his head from potential gunfire entering the house. Thereafter, suddenly, he shot. A ninja was attempting entrance and had just been hit in the ankle and another in the arm, disabling any further movement
"Take a look at this, Isabella. The 'Ninjas of Assassination Mission' can't reveal who sent them. Instead of revealing their source, they used to be trained soldiers, and they believe in the concept of dying an honorable death rather than succumbing to defeat. They understand very well that if one of them is captured, the rest of them are in jeopardy. Therefore, they resort to taking their own lives using a type of Eastern poison that no one can explain the workings of. So, if this is their modus operandi, you can simply become a whistleblower," Alexa explained.However, to Isabella, Alexa still spoke in parables, as she found everything Alexa said to be complicated. Hence, she immediately said, "Help me understand, Alexa. What do you mean?""Come on, Isabella, don't be clueless for goodness' sake.""Language, Alexa!" Isabella quickly cautioned"I apologize, Isabella. I just wanted to ensure you grasped what I was telling you. If you think deeply, it's as simple as ABC. After you've o
Mr. Smith was on the verge of leaving the glassy room when the wail of police sirens reached his ears, announcing the approach of police cars toward their gate. Similarly, Ethan, Sophia, and Guard 1 were also alerted by the sound of the police cars.However, what took each of them by surprise was the sudden disappearance of the ninjas from the compound. There was no sign of them running out through the gate, nor did they leap over the fence as they had when entering. In the blink of an eye, they were all gone, as if they had disappeared into thin air.In response, Sophia sprang from her seat like a gazelle in full flight and dashed towards Ethan, her eagerness radiating like a beacon. She then placed her tiny hands in Ethan's larger palm, and she looked up at him as though he were as tall as Mount Everest."Dad, where did they go?" she inquired, her tiny voice brimming with curiosity and fear as her gaze remained fixed on her dad, conveying her desire for a quick answer.However, Etha
Arriving at the car park adjacent to the children's playground, Isabella noticed that the playground, which had been bustling during her previous visit, now resembled nothing more than a ghost town infected by lots of dusty cars by the car park.However, it didn't give off an abandoned playground vibe. Instead, it seemed like the playground was frozen in a moment of absent footsteps. However, if Isabella took this as a big concern, it was a lie, as she simply pulled the door handle and stepped out of the car.At that moment, when she was out of her fancy car, she held her fancy bag in her hand, and her phone was connected to her earpiece, which she had plugged into her ear. Then, as she remained standing by the car door, she took a sudden, deep sigh."So, why do you sigh like that, Isabella? Are you nervous?" Alexa asked immediately. However, the only response she received from Isabella was fervent silence. To which, in a short moment, Isabella took another sigh before finally saying,
After Ethan had spoken to Mr. Smith, he said once more, "Let's go out to the compound and hear what the police have to say about this."As soon as he said this, he let out a gentle smile, akin to a sunrise illuminating the sky. Consequently, he fastened a button that seemed to have come loose from its hole to its proper place and began walking slowly toward the exit of the glassy room, leaving the mansion as the wealthy tycoon he was.Following closely behind him, Mr. Smith walked, ensuring to open each door as Ethan passed through with gentleness, like a guardian guiding a cherished ward.Finally, outside the compound, a police officer approached them. The officer was in uniform, donning a neatly pressed blue shirt, black trousers, and polished shoes. In his shirt pocket rested a pair of sunglasses, ready for use when needed.In the same manner, his hair was neatly combed and slicked back, framing a face that exuded authority and experience. A strong jawline and a chiseled chin gave
"Alright, Alexa Rosewood, can you tell me the password now so I can go in?""It feels nice that you finally acknowledged me by the right surname, Isabella. And yes, I feel so good that we are now on the same page of this revenge book. So, what is left for you is to promise," Alexa said."Promise? Promise what, Alexa?” Isabella wondered as she glanced at her phone screen to check the time.In the same manner, she looked to the left and right again, just to confirm if anyone was walking past or seeing her in front of the dusty door, like a cat on a hot tin roof, as if she were nervously awaiting some unseen danger."Alexa, we do not have time for this. Tell me the password, and we can talk this out later.""No, Isabella, we must do this now. This is the perfect time, or else you will not have my ear. So, you must promise before I tell you the passcode. You must promise never to talk rudely to me again. You must promise never to indirectly tell me to become a slave. I am as free as a bir
Pushing her back into her prison cell like a reluctant pawn being returned to its square on a chessboard, Isabella fell on the prison floor, resembling a fragile autumn leaf descending with a surrender to the inevitable embrace of the cold, hard ground. No matter how her voice had risen in anger towards her mother in the meeting room, she knew very well that she wanted to read the contents of the letter in the envelope and discover the help Ethan Mark had promised her. "Would he file for my release?" "Has he bought me a home as a sign of my forgiveness?" "Would he take me back as his wife?" Different questions rushed through her mind like a tumultuous river, each query cascading over the other. As she held the envelope in her hand, she sat at the corner of her cell and stared at it much more closely. In this way, she saw that the surface of the envelope bore a faint trace of handling, like a blank canvas marked only by the weight of the untold. She also observed the edges, crisp
As Isabella saw her mother through the glass panel, her eyes first peered at her face, which was fresh and glowing like a sun-kissing morning, radiating warmth and vitality. Similarly, she observed her hair, cascading strands of silk, flowing effortlessly, resembling a gentle waterfall gracing a serene landscape.But if that were all, it would be a lie. She also noticed her dress, which was as beautiful as a field of blooming flowers, each petal a vibrant hue, creating a tapestry of elegance. Likewise, her neck, ears, and wrists were adorned with jewelry, resembling constellations adorning the night sky, each piece a sparkling star in the galaxy of her elegance.Taking in this perfect image of her mother, the thought immediately struck Isabella that her mother's current appearance was the complete inverse of hers—a mess in a uniform and in a confined space, akin to a wildflower struggling to bloom in a cramped garden bed."Been a while," Victoria Sinclair said again, immediately as Is
Like a fish forced to live in the desert for the crime she had committed, Isabella's prison days wove a bleak tapestry of monotony and despair. The cold, unforgiving reality of prison life left her yearning for freedom, with each passing moment feeling like an eternity. The absence of familiar faces and the pervasive loneliness created a profound sense of desolation that permeated every aspect of her existence.Most especially, the daily beatings from her tormentor, Elara Whitewind, resembled an unrelenting storm, leaving Isabella's spirit battered and broken, akin to a shipwreck in the tempest of her despair. This was the reason she wished she had never set foot in the prison yard, mess hall, or communal bathroom ever again.However, whether she wished to visit those places or not, prison protocol had to be followed, leaving her no choice but to be present even in the devil's face if the protocol demanded it.In the dimly lit mess hall, clattering trays and hushed conversations fille
Ethan said nothing in response to Mr. Alexander's words. Instead, as if he hadn't heard him, he seized a seat on the other side of the table and crossed his left leg over his right.Yet, this did not mean he spoke at this moment. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the table, as if he were playing an invisible piano.In this manner, Ethan Mark exuded authority. Gazing calmly from Mr. Alexander's feet to the tangled mess of hair atop his head, he looked at him. With a serenity akin to the gentle flow of the Nile and a voice as soft as a satisfied dove contemplating a defeated jungle lion, he suddenly spoke."Kneel and apologize."Upon hearing these words, Mr. Alexander's eyes widened in shock. He never anticipated a day when he would be asked to kneel and beg for mercy, especially from the person he had always regarded as a poor bastard.Like an enslaved cat in the presence of a lion, Mr. Alexander fell to his knees as Ethan Mark instructed, pleading, "I was a ter
Seeing how bold, tall, and dangerous this prisoner appeared and observing his audacious manner of poking at him was akin to witnessing a prowling lion, confident in its dominance, taunting its prey before the impending strike. Mr. Alexander then immediately turned his back, attempting to escape from this menacing part of the communal bathroom like a startled deer seeking refuge from the looming threat in the dark forest. "I have to run," he muttered in total fright, his voice a tremor in the echoing silence, like a desperate whisper carried away by the chilling wind of impending danger. However, if his intention was for success, it was a futile hope. "And where do you think you are running to, huh?" Another prisoner said this behind him and pushed him forward like a pawn on the unforgiving chessboard of the prison's power dynamics. As Mr. Alexander was pushed forward, he witnessed how the older prisoners immediately surrounded him. He also noticed how they revealed smirks on their c
After speaking for hours, the man who had conversed with him advised Mr. Alexander to get some sleep. He emphasized the importance of having alert eyes to observe any unfortunate events that might occur in the morning. And with that, Mr. Alexander retreated to the corner of his cell once again, burying his head in his ankle like a ship seeking refuge in the harbor of solitude, sheltering itself from the tempest of the prison's harsh reality. He sat on the ground, succumbing to a haunted sleep. *** The next morning revealed Mr. Alexander as a mere specter of resilience, marked by the weariness of a night spent in the clutches of haunted dreams, like a tattered flag fluttering weakly after enduring the relentless storm of a sleepless night. His eyes, burdened with unrest, betrayed the toll of his surroundings. Disheveled strands of hair clung to his forehead, bearing witness to the restless hours entangled in unsettling dreams. As he rose from the dark corner of his cell, his eyes fir
"Long story, man," the man answered. However, if this was all he said, it was a lie. He began to unravel his own narrative, detailing how his legs became amputated and one of his hands irreparably broken and dislocated."You see, I entered this prison as a healthy man. My crimes weren't that significant. I robbed a bank because I couldn't bear to watch my daughter suffer. We hadn't eaten for days, and robbing the bank seemed like my only option." He took a deep sigh and continued talking."Yes, you guessed right. The mission was unsuccessful, and before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the police. I had no guns, only a knife and a dagger. I never headed to the vault but collected pieces from each person I encountered in the bank. I just wanted to be able to feed my daughter and move on with life the next day.""While being surrounded, there was nothing more I could do than raise my hands in the air and let the police apprehend me. God knows it was the biggest mistake I ever m
Arriving at the prison, Mr. Alexander saw how the prison walls were imposing, resembling a fortress of despair that stood as a testament to the shadows of society. Certainly, he shook his head in regret, as he had never been to a place this horrible before.He observed cold steel bars, like sentinels of incarceration, confining notorious men whose stories were etched in the graffiti of hardened souls. Similarly, he noticed how the air hung heavy with the weight of regret, whispers of past misdeeds echoing through the dimly lit corridors.The sounds of his handcuffs tucked in chains down to his ankle made obvious sounds as he was escorted through the corridor harboring the cells of different notorious men by two prison officers whose faces lacked smiles, as if they hadn't smiled for many notorious years. Hence, he saw individuals behind these cells harboring untold secrets with their unappealing faces and frightful behaviors.Upon witnessing him and the others being escorted to their r
“Detective Sharon, we would love to ask you a few questions if you do not mind. We are sure this would help the public understand more of what is going on,” one reporter said immediately. “Alright, please go ahead. If this would help the general public understand more of what is going on, “Thank you, Detective Sharon. Now that Mr. Alexander, Mr. X, and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to lengthy prison terms, and Attorney Reynolds is awaiting the outcome of his investigation before he is sentenced, do you think that would be the end of this deadly organization?” “Yes, Mr. X. Mr. Alexander Rosewood and Attorney Hughes have been sentenced to prison for a very long term, and if care is not taken, for life imprisonment. However, this is not the end of the organization. As you might already know, the deadly organization is a large organization that has penetrated every sector, which could even include the police, the prison officers, the legal system, and many more, which could even i