Chapter 536

The iron gate clanged open, and a man with a fierce scowl stormed in, muttering curses under his breath,"Damn it all, what a nuisance! Move it, now."

An icy glint flickered across Hannah's eyes. The moment had come.

Just as the man drew near, reaching out to seize her, Hannah tore free from the ropes. With sudden force,she struck-a sharp sweep aimed at his lower body, swift and merciless.

The man never expected resistance from the woman he had bound. His cry echoed as his legs buckled, and he crashed heavily to the floor.

Hearing the commotion, another man standing guard rushed in from outside.

Hannah spun, driving her elbow hard into him, and then swept his legs out in one fluid motion. With a grunt,he too collapsed at her feet.

Without wasting a heartbeat, Hannah darted from the cell.

Yet, the moment she stepped outside, her heart sank. This was no ordinary place-it was a sprawling,labyrinthine fortress. Narrow stone passages wound like tangled threads, linking countless identical low buildings, and in the distance loomed a watchtower.

Trusting only her instincts, Hannah picked a direction and ran with all her might.

But her dash for freedom quickly stirred the hornet's nest. Whistles split the air, sharp and piercing, as more guards in black poured from every corner, closing in on her.

She tried to weave through the passages, but her unfamiliarity betrayed her, and she soon found herself at a dead end.

Behind her, footsteps echoed-slow, deliberate, almost mocking.

Pressing against the cold stone wall, Hannah gasped for breath as Brixton appeared from the passage's mouth, his entourage shadowing him like wolves at dusk.

Brixton's gaze fell on Hannah, defiant and fierce, surprise flickering across his features. "You actually broke out on your own? I misjudged you." He smirked, his eyes gleaming as though sizing up a rare prize.′′NO wonder-Vincent's woman is far more interesting than I thought."

When Hannah's brief message reached him, Vincent had been out of town, attending a crucial signing ceremony in another city. She spoke of Erica's possible escape-and her own plan to intercept.

Every word in that message unsettled him. Without hesitation, he abandoned all arrangements and headed straight for the airport, seizing a private flight to return to Dorbarrow as fast as the skies would allow.

The instant the plane touched down, he refused to wait for the steps to be lowered. Striding down impatiently, he leapt into the waiting car.

"To Dock 3-hurry!" Vincent barked, his voice taut with urgency and edged with raw concerns.

All the way there, he kept calling Hannah, but the line never connected. He tried the bodyguards he had assigned to protect her, but every call ended in silence.

A shadow of foreboding loomed larger with every passing minute.

"Faster!" he pressed the driver, watching the scenery blur past the window, though no speed could ease the storm in his chest.

At last, the car screeched to a halt outside Dock 3-and Vincent's heart sank like a stone.

Police lights blazed red and blue, casting harsh shadows. Yellow tape cordoned off wide stretches of the dock, the entire place tense and heavy with tragedy.

"What happened here?" Vincent staggered from the car, nearly stumbling as he grabbed a nearby officer.His voice cracked with dread.

Before the officer could answer, Derek came running. His face was pale, his voice grim and rushed. "Mr.Jones, it's bad-terribly bad! There was a shooting at the port. The bodies we found... All of them are our men. The five bodyguards assigned to protect Ms. Scott are dead."

The words struck Vincent like a bolt from a clear sky. His vision blurred, his body wavered, and only Derek's quick grip kept him upright.

A single thought pounded in Vincent's mind-all the bodyguards were gone, but what about Hannah? She must have been with the bodyguards at the time.