Chapter 493

Reginald Quincy's fingers dug into his palms as he stared at the surveillance monitor.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

Evelyn Laurent had breached multiple security layers and appeared in Ethan Monroe's mansion—now holding Beatrice Quincy hostage.

Were those six-figure bodyguards just for show?

"Daddy!"

Beatrice's scream pierced his eardrums.

Evelyn yanked her hair, smashing Beatrice's face against the camera lens. The actress's carefully styled curls were disheveled, her makeup smeared.

"Stop!" Reginald roared.

The sight of his daughter's reddened cheek made his heart clench like a vise.

"Don't understand plain English?" Evelyn tilted her head, tracing Beatrice's carotid artery with her fingernail. "Let me rephrase—where's Ethan Sullivan?"

The surveillance feed flickered.

Evelyn delivered another backhanded slap.

As Beatrice shrieked, Reginald heard his own molars crack. This madwoman had torn open his meticulously laid plans.

"You think I won't hurt her?"

Evelyn leaned into the camera. The murderous glint in her almond-shaped eyes turned Reginald's blood to ice.

He remembered the report three hours prior—all twelve bodyguards sent to intercept Evelyn were hospitalized with critical injuries.

"Evelyn..." Reginald's voice shook. "Ethan's perfectly fine—"

Smack!

The third slap left Beatrice whimpering soundlessly.

Evelyn flexed her stinging palm. "Uncle Quincy, your daughter's delicate skin can't take much more." Her smile turned saccharine. "Let's play a game. For every minute you stall, I break one of her fingers."

The screen suddenly switched to a basement feed.

Reginald's pupils contracted—Ethan Sullivan was chained in the corner while Xander Quincy advanced with a syringe.

"I'll release him now!"

Evelyn blew on her nails. "Should've cooperated sooner." Her expression darkened. "Remember—this is your last chance."

As the screen went black, Beatrice's bloodcurdling wail echoed: "Dad! She snapped my pinkie—"