Chapter 591

Brixton's fury twisted into something so bitter that it nearly broke into a laugh, his stare on Vincent and Hannah heavy with shadow and menace. "Well, well. So you've been playing this game the entire time!Vincent,you knew Hannah wasn't gone!"

In that instant, clarity struck-Vincent's cold dismissal of that corpse, the orchestrated encounter, every subtle detail converging into one undeniable truth: Vincent had known Hannah was alive all along.

At that moment, Hudson surged forward, his glare searing into Brixton. "Brixton, how dare you lay a hand on my daughter! She is the core of my very existence!"

If not for Vincent's assistance and promises that Aanya would be delivered back safely, Hudson-ever the man to balance advantage against risk-might never have severed ties so decisively with Brixton. He might even have bent beneath pressure, conceding to a lopsided split of revenue in the end.

But now, with his daughter's safety assured and his rage stoked by Brixton's holding his daughter as a hostage, Hudson's stance hardened beyond compromise.

Right now, three factions, their forces bristling, were locked in a razor-edge stalemate.

Then, a sudden, jarring crack split the air-someone's finger had touched the trigger."Bang!"

The shot tore open the silence, and the battlefield erupted in flame and frenzy.

Chaos consumed the whole place as the three factions hurled themselves into a violent clash.

Through the storm of gunfire and shouts, Hannah did not hesitate. She cast Vincent a swift look; he caught it at once, rallying his finest fighters to cover her movements.

With precision and urgency, Hannah surged forward, guiding the team away from the blood-soaked fray,cutting straight for the ship's second deck where those women were caged.

Once more, Hannah stood before the long row of barred enclosures, the women inside shrinking back in trembling horror. "Smash the cage locks open!" she commanded without hesitation.

Her men immediately attacked the locks, forcing steel and iron to yield beneath their tools.

The cages swung wide one after another.

Yet, as before, the women did not pour out. Instead, they recoiled deeper into the shadows, clinging to one another, their faces warped with dread greater than ever before.

Hannah's eyes flicked over their terror-stricken forms. She knew that coaxing words were useless here.Drawing in a sharp breath, she hardened her features, her voice snapping like a whip. "Move now! If you hesitate, you'll be hauled out by force! Decide whether you leave on your own feet-or get dragged!"

Her tone dripped with steel and threat.

The women froze,paralyzed by terror, their widened eyes glassy, their bodies convulsing with trembling.

"Must I say it again?" Hannah ripped the dagger from her belt and slammed its blade against the bars, the clang ringing through the chamber.

Survival roared louder than the women's fear. In a surge of sobs and stumbling limbs, they poured from their cages, huddling close, still staring at Hannah with helpless, uncertain gazes.

A wave of relief brushed Hannah, though her face remained ice. She pointed sharply to Nate, who was carving the path ahead, her shout cutting over the din. "Follow him! Any straggler or deserter will pay for it dearly!"

The women obeyed, staggering forward, terror chaining their every step to submission. Inside, they clung to the bleak conviction that this was no rescue, merely another march into a different abyss. Obedience was the only currency they still possessed.

The escape line pressed forward at speed toward their appointed exit.

Hannah took the rearguard, watching every movement, refusing to let her guard drop.

But as they neared the staircase, a sudden cold presence pressed into her lower back. It was the muzzle of a gun. Hannah froze, her body rigid.

Brixton's breath brushed her ear, his voice low and venomous. "Hannah, you're quite capable, aren't you?Getting in touch with Vincent behind my back? Pulling off such a great act right in front of me? Even releasing Aanya? You've become quite the liar."

Silent as a shadow, he had slipped upon her without the faintest sound.

Nate caught the shift immediately. He whirled around, his weapon snapping up to aim at Brixton.

"Nate!" Hannah barked, her voice sharp, her head shaking violently, her eyes flashing urgency. "Take them away. That's an order!"

"But..." Nate's voice trembled with refusal, dread thick in his tone. How could he leave her alone to face Brixton?

"How many times must I repeat myself? Take them and go!" Hannah's words struck like iron, her gaze unyielding.

Nate's eyes darted between Hannah-gun barrel pressing against her-and the huddled mass of terrified women. Finally, gritting his teeth, he wrenched himself to obey, ushering the women down the stairway at a hurried pace.

Brixton did not interfere. His target had never been them. His eyes never left Hannah.