Chapter 583

"Just now, it was too terrifying," Hannah murmured, her hand brushing away a tear with deliberate care."Scorpio, Kayce... They collapsed right in front of me, their blood spraying across the deck. I was certain I would be next."

Brixton studied her quietly, his stare weighted with suspicion, as though measuring whether her words could be trusted.

Rising from his chair, Brixton strode over to Scorpio's fallen form, crouched, and pressed his fingers against Scorpio's throat and chest, verifying the absence of both breath and pulse. Death was confirmed.

But then, a faint groan rippled through the silence-one of the wounded still clung to life a short distance away.

At the sound, Brixton moved toward him with steady, deliberate steps.

A jolt of dread shot through Hannah. That man was still conscious. If he spoke, would he unravel her entire lie?

Brixton knelt beside the bloodied figure, examining the grievous injuries.

Sensing Brixton's presence, the man forced his eyelids apart, his lips twitching faintly as though words were trapped inside his failing body...

The atmosphere on the upper deck tightened, thick and breathless, as though the air itself trembled.

Cold sweat drenched Hannah's palms in an instant. An idea struck, and she pointed in another direction,shifting Brixton's focus. "I heard something strange. While I was hiding, Scorpio said Kayce was betrayed and stabbed by someone close to him. And right after Scorpio revealed that, he was shot down."

She intentionally muddied the key information, successfully diverting Brixton's attention.

Brixton's expression darkened; he rose abruptly and crossed to Kayce's body, crouching low to examine the deep knife wound in his chest. His brows knit together, carrying the same weight of disbelief Scorpio had shown earlier. With Kayce's abilities, such a strike should have been avoided. Such a wound indeed suggested betrayal by someone trusted.

Brixton suddenly snapped his head up, his gaze sharp as steel, cutting straight into Hannah."SOyou truly saw nothing?"

Her stomach tightened, but she held her mask of confusion. "Nothing at all. I was terrified, hiding the whole time. I couldn't see-only the sounds reached me."

He searched her face for long, drawn seconds. At last, he appeared to accept the answer, at least for now.

Turning back to the groaning subordinate, Brixton approached and crouched down-only to discover that the man had exhaled his final breath, silenced forever before speaking.

Brixton's features grew grim, the shadows on his face deepening. He rose to his full height, his presence pressing down like a suffocating weight.

Below deck, the gamblers had long since fled when the gunfire broke out, leaving the ship heavy with emptiness, the silence unnatural.

It was then that Vulture stormed back with his men, fury and frustration written on his face. "Forgive me, Mr.Ward. I lost them! Couldn't catch them! Those bastards slipped away too fast, and the fog swallowed their tracks."

Brixton did not erupt. He stood still for a few beats before his voice emerged, cold as iron, more to himself than to Vulture. "Do you think it's a mere chance those raiders struck while I was gone, slaughtering and looting?"

Vulture hesitated, watching Brixton cautiously, and then muttered, "I would't presume..."

"Answer me!" Brixton snapped, his tone razor-sharp.

Vulture swallowed and steadied himself, forcing the words out. "Mr. Ward, the only name that makes sense is Hudson Chadwick. Aren't we planning a banquet for him in a few days? Maybe he wants a bigger cut or to keep it all for himself, so he sent his men over while you were away-took everything, spilled blood, showing his strength before negotiations."

The more he spoke, the firmer his voice became, until anger sharpened every word. "Mr. Ward, it has to be him. We can't let this slide! Since he struck us first, we should strike back-hit hard!"

Hannah lowered her head, quietly memorizing the name-Hudson Chadwick. So he was the honored guest for the upcoming banquet? And Brixton's men believed Hudson orchestrated the attack? What an unexpected twist. If Brixton accepted this story, suspicion would never turn toward Vincent.

Listening to Vulture's analysis, Brixton did not refute, seemingly agreeing with the possibility. He lifted a hand, cutting off Vulture's growing fury. "Patience. His daughter is still here. When he comes to the banquet, we'll settle both debts-past and present."

Vulture frowned, reluctant to drop the matter like this."Mr.Ward,but-"

"It's settled," Brixton declared, his tone unyielding. "Clean up the scene. Give Scorpio and the others a respectful farewell. See their families well provided for-double what we promised."

"Yes, Mr. Ward!" Vulture replied, immediately setting men into motion.

From the side, Hannah observed wordlessly. She noted that Brixton's idea of a respectful farewell involved cremating Scorpio's and the others' bodies right on the deck.

But amid the grim process, Vulture stiffened, eyes narrowing. After counting carefully, he stepped up to Brixton, his voice uneasy. "Mr. Ward, something's wrong. One body's missing. Alfredo isn't here. Could he have slipped away in the chaos? Or worse-was he working for Hudson all along?"