Chapter 1297:
What was Terrence doing back here all of a sudden? She’d heard Terrence was supposed to be gone for a while, long enough that she thought she’d have time to breathe. Were all the plans she had made going to crumble before they even started?
“So… you’re finally awake?” Terrence’s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp, stripped of any warmth.
“Why… why am I here?” Besty asked, her voice shaking with fear.
She remembered drinking at the bar, losing count after a few glasses, then blacking out, only to wake up here, clueless about how she had gotten there.
This place wasn’t new to her. Terrence had taken her to this yacht before. It was the same one where she’d once seen just how cold and merciless he could be.
“Take a guess,” Terrence said casually, pulling out a small knife and spinning it between his fingers like it was a toy.
Besty’s eyes followed the blade as it glinted in the dim light. Her heart pounded, and her throat went dry.
She knew exactly how sharp that blade was. Besty had seen Terrence use it before, and she still remembered the screams. She instinctively shrank back, curling into a corner, her body shaking so hard it was impossible to hide her fear.
Terrence had always spoiled her, treated her like she was special. Because of that, she’d ignored the monster inside him, never once thinking his cruelty would turn on her.
She had even justified it to herself, believing every person he got rid of had somehow earned their death.
But now, a sickening feeling settled in her gut. She could sense it. She was next. The unease in her chest turned into full-blown terror.
“Are we… are we in international waters?” Besty whispered, clinging desperately to whatever hope she could find. If they weren’t too far out, maybe, just maybe, someone could still save her.
Terrence’s lips curved into that familiar, wicked smirk that sent chills down her spine.
I∆t€$† ¢н∆ρŧεґš ¡и g𝒶l𝑛ovєl𝑆.𝗰om
“You’re right. But there’s no prize for getting it right.”
He looked like a predator playing with his prey—calm, patient, and deadly.
Terrence didn’t even move. He just sat there on the black leather sofa, silent and still, while Besty trembled uncontrollably.
She could see it in his eyes. This time, he wasn’t just thinking about killing her; he was ready to erase her completely.
A deep, gut-wrenching fear gripped Besty’s chest and refused to let go.
Death felt close, like a giant net closing in around her, tighter with every breath, leaving no way out.
“Sir… I am sorry,” Besty stammered, her voice shaking like a leaf.
She’d prayed he’d never find out. But Terrence had peeled back the truth like it was nothing, and it knocked the wind out of her.
.
.
.