Chapter 491

Beatrice Quincy finally relaxed as she stepped through the mansion's gates. She glanced around, noting the numerous bodyguards her father Reginald Quincy had stationed.

This time, Evelyn Laurent wouldn't stand a chance against her!

A smug smile curled Beatrice's lips as she hummed a tune walking toward the parlor.

From Evelyn's cryptic remarks, she'd deduced her father had kidnapped Ethan Sullivan. Her brother Xander Quincy had also mysteriously vanished. Clearly, Reginald had used Xander as bait to trap Ethan.

But Beatrice felt no remorse.

Xander had disgraced the Quincy name these past three years. The eldest son of the Quincy family, abandoning everything for some woman? Degrading himself with menial work?

Her eyes filled with contempt at the thought of her worthless brother. She shook her head, dismissing the irritation. With this security detail, she could rest easy.

However formidable Evelyn might be, could she possibly defeat the elite martial artists Reginald had hired?

These bodyguards were legendary fighters, each a master in their own right!

Beatrice uncorked a bottle of vintage Bordeaux, sipping elegantly. Unbeknownst to her, Evelyn was already crossing Cloudhaven's borders with murderous intent.

Evelyn entered Cloudhaven unimpeded. As a property owner here, security didn't stop her. She easily obtained the Quincy mansion's exact location.

Making no attempt to conceal herself, she marched straight to the estate's gates. As expected, bodyguards immediately blocked her path.

"Private property. No entry!" The guard's voice was ice, radiating danger.

Evelyn ignored him, gazing past toward the mansion. "Is Beatrice here?"

"No comment!" The guard's tone turned glacial.

Evelyn suddenly smiled. "So she is..."

Before the words faded, her eyes turned deadly cold. As the guard shifted into a defensive stance, her hand struck like lightning against his neck. He collapsed instantly.

"Stop her!"

The remaining bodyguards swarmed forward in alarm. These so-called martial arts masters were no match for Evelyn. She moved with blinding speed, felling seven or eight within moments.

"Reginald's standards have fallen," Evelyn flexed her wrist scornfully. "What kind of trash hires this many men who can't stop one woman?"

The guards could only watch helplessly as she advanced unchallenged.

After neutralizing them all, Evelyn frowned at the reinforced door. Her gaze shifted to the second-floor French windows.

Upstairs, Beatrice lounged on the balcony chaise, headphones on, basking in sunlight and wine—oblivious to approaching danger.

Evelyn scaled the wall like a cat, slipping through the open window effortlessly.

When shadows fell across her, Beatrice irritably opened her eyes. "I said not to distur—"

The words died in her throat.

Her pupils contracted violently. The wineglass shattered on the tiles.