Chapter 580

Confronted by the women-battered, trembling, and unwilling to place their trust in her-Hannah realized instantly that there was no luxury of hesitation or facades. She could not remain passive; action was demanded of her.

Hannah pivoted and fixed her eyes on Scorpio."Can't you see? I'm here to take them out of this place."

"You're flirting with your own destruction!" Scorpio thundered, drawing a pistol and leveling it at Hannah.

The instant Scorpio brought the firearm up, Hannah moved with catlike speed, sliding sideways and surging forward; she used precise judo leverage to sweep close in, seize Scorpio's gun-wielding wrist,and hurl him forward over her shoulder with brutal force.

Scorpio struck the floor with a sickening impact, and the handgun skittered from his grip.

Simultaneously, Scorpio's subordinates sprang into action, raising their weapons and unleashing a barrage toward Hannah.

"Defend Ms. Scott!" Nate barked, and he, with his elite unit, immediately returned controlled, lethal fire.

The responding shots quickly neutralized several of Scorpio's men.

A violent firefight tore through the room.

Relying on the suppressing fire from Nate and his team, Hannah darted low and slid behind a makeshift barricade with agile precision.

Scorpio scrambled, snatching up the pistol that had fallen nearby; though struggling to his feet,he stubbornly fired in Hannah's direction.

Nate saw it, his gaze sharpening, and without a second thought, he squeezed the trigger.

"Bang!" The round struck Scorpio squarely in the

forehead as he attempted to pull himself upright.

Everything unfolded so fast that nobody had the time to alter their course.

The combat continued unabated.

Hannah sucked in air, pushed herself upright, and looked straight at the women confined inside the cages. "Do you believe me now? I am not your enemy -I came to free you."

Only a heavy, oppressive quiet met her plea.

A shadow passed over Hannah's face as disappointment and resolve settled in.

Meanwhile, in another tense theater, Vincent's parley with Brixton was underway, each moment steeped in unease.

Slippery and calculating, Brixton had repeatedly shifted the meeting location at the last minute, trying to disrupt any preparations Vincent might have orchestrated.

Outwardly,Vincent wore a composed mask, buying precious minutes for Hannah's extraction to unfold.

At last, in a deserted warehouse on the edge of a forgotten town, the two men faced each other. The air hung taut; both entourages watched with hawkish attention.

Brixton offered a cunning grin and said, "Mr. Jones,your reputation precedes you. A pleasure to finally meet you."

Vincent played along, deliberately stretching the exchange. "So you're the one above that incompetent Erica.How intriguing."

A curl of contempt crossed Brixton's face. "Had you not mentioned her, I might have let that name vanish from my thoughts."

Vincent answered with cool dismissal, "She kept her lips sealed and didn't disclose anything substantial.You have a loyal subordinate."

Brixton arched an eyebrow. "Odd. I had assumed your immediate priority would be the matter of your former wife, Hannah, rather than indulging in this small talk."

Vincent continued to stall, his voice even."Everything proceeds in order. With someone like you,haste would be foolish."

Brixton studied Vincent with narrowed eyes. "From where I sit, you give no impression of urgency. Don't you want to know about how Hannah died? And where her body might be?"

Vincent's expression hardened into an icy certainty."I don't believe for a second that she's dead."

Brixton shrugged. "I expected as much. But the reality is, she is deceased. Truly gone. What makes you so certain the corpse isn't hers?"

Suddenly, Vincent's anger exploded, and he crushed a cup on the table. Blood oozed out, but he paid it no heed.

Immediately, the bodyguards from the two sides raised their weapons and trained them on one another.

"I don't appreciate jokes," Vincent said, his tone low and dangerous.

Brixton enjoyed watching his loss of composure and smiled. "I'm not joking. The corpse is stored at my place, all chilled and ready. The only question is whether you're willing to make a deal, Mr. Jones."

Brixton's mind worked beneath the smile-they had not actually procured Hannah's corpse. He needed the illusion of control to dominate the conversation.

Vincent affected outrage. "You propose trading a cadaver with me? Is that meant to be an offer?"

Brixton leaned in, voice honeyed and coaxing. "A lifeless body carries little market value. But if it's Hannah, its worth to you would be beyond measure.She matters to you, does she not?"

Vincent kept up his charade. "If your ploy is to use her as bargaining leverage, why would you have

allowed her to perish?"

Brixton sighed theatrically. "Believe me, it grieved me too. But on a ship, accidents happen. Fate dealt her a cruel hand. You've searched tirelessly for her.I assume you would not wish her remains to be tossed into the sea for scavengers."

Vincent fell silent briefly, forcing his temper down. "A billion dollars in cash. Return her remains to me."

Brixton shook his head, eyes calculating. "If she were alive, I'd happily accept that sum. But for a corpse,that price is excessive. I will exchange Hannah's body for something else of value," he said, coldly confident. "Trust me-the trade will be worthwhile."