NovelOnlineChapter 515
Carole was sitting on the floor, her blouse rumpled and askew. She hugged her arms tightly to her chest, inching
backwards, voice trembling. "Don't cany closer! Stay away from me!"
One of the thugs sneered, his tone oily and mocking. "Relax, sweetheart. We're gonna take real good care of
you."
In that instant, Anthea didn't hesitate. She charged across the room, moving with a speed and ferocity that
stunned everyone. Within seconds, the air was filled with the sound of agonized screams.
It didn't take long-one brutal moment later, the thugs were curled up on the ground, whimpering and clutching
their broken limbs. Nanson, wild-eyed with rage, grabbed a metal pipe from nearby and began swinging it down,
again and again. "Bastards! You filthy bastards! How dare you lay a hand on my mom! I'll make you pay for
touching her!"
"Mom, are you okay?" he called, voice shaking.
"Annie!" Carole sobbed, collapsing into Anthea's arms, relief and terror mingling in her tears.
Thank God. Thank God Anthea had cin time. Any later, and Carole shuddered to think what could have
happened.
"It's over, Mom. You're safe. I've got you," Anthea murmured, gently rubbing her mother's back.
Carole clung to her, still trembling, haunted by what she'd just endured.
"Stop! Please, no more! You're gonna kill us!" One of the battered thugs knelt,
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇttears and snot streaming down his swollen face. "We were just hired muscle, we
swear! It wasn't personal! Please, let us go, I'm begging you!"
Every one of them was a mess-bruised, bloodied, barely able to speak.
Anthea's eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"
The room fell silent. No one dared answer. Even in their world, there were certain rules.
"Speak!" Nanson barked, bringing the metal pipe crashing down again.
Another chorus of screams echoed. At last, one thug, hands trembling, fumbled out his phone. "It-it was the
woman in this photo," he stammered.
Anthea snatched the phone. She didn't recognize the woman, but it was clear she was just another pawn.
She sent the photo to her own phone, then pulled a small bottle from her pocket and tossed it onto the ground in
front of the thugs. "Take the pills in that bottle. All of you."
They exchanged panicked glances, fear written across their faces. What if it was poison?
Suddenly, one of them bolted for the door, desperate to escape. But Anthea, without missing a beat, grabbed a
metal pipe and hurled it with terrifying precision.
Crack!
The pipe struck the man's leg, sending him crashing to the floor. The sickening snap of bone echoed in the room.
"I'll take it! I'll do it!" another thug cried, scrambling to open the bottle and swallow a pill in one gulp.
too! I'll take it!" The rest followed suit, terrified, snatching up pills and swallowing them hastily, not daring to
fake it.
Once they'd all downed the pills, Anthea finally spoke. "Get out. Now."
The thugs scrambled away, tripping over each other in their haste to escape.
Anthea knelt beside Carole, helping her to her feet. “Con, Mom. Let's go home."
Carole, still shaking, allowed herself to be led away, trying to steady her breathing. Nanson draped an arm
protectively around her shoulders.
"It's okay now, Mom," he murmured. "You're safe."
He glanced at Anthea, curiosity piqued. "Annie, what did you just make them swallow? Personally, | think they
deserve worse. Turning those creeps into eunuchs would be too good for them."
Thank God Carole was only scared and not hurt beyond that otherwise, Nanson
was sure he'd never forgive them, no matter what he did in return.
Anthea's voice was calm, almost cold. "That's exactly what the pills will do."
Nanson stared at her in shock. "You're serious?"
Anthea nodded.
Back at home, after making sure Carole was settled and comforted, Anthea sat down at her computer and began
searching for information on the woman in the photo.
Clara. Female. Currently working as Rebecca's assistant.
It didn't take a genius to guess who was really behind this. Rebecca.
Anthea's eyes narrowed.
Rebecca, was it? Whatever Carole had suffered tonight, Anthea would make sure Rebecca paid for it-twice over.
She opened an encrypted international platform and posted a bounty: half a million dollars.
When she was finished, Anthea shut
the laptop, made a call, and strode over to the window. Staring out over the city lights, she spoke clearly, each
word clipped and icy. "lI want to see the Morris Group file for bankruptcy within three days.” Céntent
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