Alyssa hung up abruptly, saying nothing else. She stared at the darkened screen,
her chest heaving as her breathing turned ragged. It took her several long moments to regain her composure.
Should she meet Justin?
The safest path was clearly to decline, avoiding all risks and potential traps. However, that wasn't in her nature. Feigning ignorance while Justin was free felt like cowardice. Now that he had been bailed out, his influence, his darkness, and his psychosis were unpredictable variables. As long as he was alive, he would continue to rise from the ashes.
She remembered his uncle, Zachary, who had been sentenced to death for murder only to have his sentence commuted to life imprisonment after providing proof of psychosis. With "expert guidance", he had operated from behind bars for years, using a scapegoat to serve his time while he remained free.
Though the legal system had evolved, Justin was more than capable of exploiting similar loopholes to evade justice while on medical furlough.
She had to go. She must.
She wasn't afraid of falling into infinite darkness. Her only fear was failing to pin this serpent down that she would let him slip away for good. She had a sinking feeling that if he escaped this time, they might never get another chance to capture him.
Alyssa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were rimmed with red.
"Ms. Alyssa... is everything alright?"
Unease filled Sean as he gazed at her rigid back. For no apparent reason, he was suddenly gripped by a chilling sense of dread.
"I'm fine," Alyssa replied.
"Did something happen with Justin?"
"Sean, cancel all my plans for tomorrow. I'm visiting Grandpa at the hospital," she instructed in a firm tone, not giving anything away.
Noticing how steady she seemed, Sean's unease vanished. He nodded. "I'll drive you, then."
Night fell over Heightsnew Villa.
Alyssa was uncharacteristically quiet when she returned home that day. She avoided her family members, retreating to her room immediately and locking the door.
She then retrieved a surgical kit and began sterilizing the instruments one by one. It was time for "Dr. White" to take the stage.
She sat at the edge of the couch, took a deep, steadying breath, and rolled her skirt up to her thigh.
Then, she pulled out a syringe and injected a local anesthetic into her inner thigh. Moments later, she picked up a gleaming scalpel, her gaze firm and resolute. Without a moment's hesitation, she made a half-inch incision.
The bloody gash looked jarring against her fair skin. It was a truly gruesome sight.
Alyssa pressed her lips tightly together as sweat broke out across her forehead. But thanks to her swift, professional technique, she barely bled.
Although the cut was small, it was deep, making the pain all the more agonizing. Even so, her expression remained unchanged as she picked up a sleek miniature tracker and embedded it deep into her flesh.
This tracker was the latest product from KS Group's technology research and development
department. In fact, it hadn't even et
been released to the public yet White still in the testing phase, this final model was stable and capable of receiving signals vastly superior to thousands of similar products. It would be able to locate her
anywhere on earth.
As she pushed the device deeper, a dull groan of pain escaped her lips. Beads of sweat trickled slowly down her cheeks.
Once the tracker was embedded, she meticulously stitched the wound shut. To ensure the work was foolproof and left no trace, she finished by applying a piece of medical-grade artificial skin over the incision.
Later that evening, she joined
Winston and the rest of the family for dinner as usual. Winston noticed her pallor and asked if she was. feeling unwell, but she brushed his
concerns aside with a nonchalant response.
concerns aside with appi
After dinner, she leaned against the wall for support as she made her way back to her room.
The anesthetic had worn off, and the pain from her incision was becoming unbearable. She had to get back to her room immediately and get some sleep. Only then would she have the strength for tomorrow's battle.
"Hey, Lyse."
Startled, Alyssa looked back slowly.
Remy was walking toward her in casual wear. His off-white shirt, with its impeccable tailoring, fit him perfectly, while his sharp, dark brown pants accentuated his physique.
This was how Damien used to dress at home. The cold, ruthless edge Remy once carried had faded. He was slowly reclaiming the gentlemanly, elegant version of himself from the past.
Alyssa couldn't help but well up with tears. "Damien, that outfit looks great on you."
"Is that so?" Remy looked down at himself and chuckled. "According to Lyla, this used to be mine, but I don't remember it at all. Was I really so pretentious back then?"
Alyssa burst out laughing. "Pretentious? It's called being a refined gentleman!"
Remy smiled. "Finding myself is an interesting process. Though, I have to admit, expensive clothes are comfortable. At this rate, I'll never be able to go back to cheap ones."
"Go ahead and spend it all. I might
not be good at much, but I'm the best moneymaker you'll find I'm
still
only worded you ve cash left over when you're in your golde
year
need to work harder at
spending it!"
FindNovel.net
Alyssa winced as the movement tugged at her wound, sending a sharp jolt of pain
down her thigh.
The slight wince didn't escape Remy's piercing gaze. He took a sudden step forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What's wrong, Lyse?"