Secrets Of The Neglected Wife

Chapter 899:

The involvement of the military only confirmed that the forces behind it were much bigger and more complicated.

“Should we fall back?” Jareth asked after a pause. He felt tense, as though Verruckt’s silence turned him into a beast, just waiting to strike.

The atmosphere around Verruckt grew heavier, more suffocating.

“Running away won’t help,” Verruckt said, his voice dark and threatening. “With the lab gone, if the mayor is dead, we’ll just be hunted down.”

The killing intent pouring off him felt almost unbearable.

Jareth’s heart raced, as if it might explode.

Verruckt’s eyes locked onto Allison.

The lab’s destruction was now final.

The raging flames seemed to signal Allison’s triumph.

Her voice was icy as she spoke. “I planned to use Kylo to kill you, but that didn’t work out. Mr. Shaw, if you’re not leaving now, then we will.”

The raging fire would soon bring in firefighters and reporters. The sound of sirens and a faint hum grew louder by the second.

They had only ten minutes left.

Allison was sure that Verruckt would do anything to kill her. She wasn’t planning to show him any mercy either.

When Verruckt finally spoke, his voice was full of hatred. “None of you will make it out alive tonight.”

Allison tightened her grip on the black gun. “Let’s see who comes out on top then.”

With that, all hell broke loose as both sides collided.

The men in suits behind Verruckt were the first to attack.

“Kill them!” they shouted.

Jareth gritted his teeth and jumped into the fight.

“Alice, you traitor!” he yelled.

But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a young man appeared out of nowhere, kicking the gun from his hand. Bang!

The gun flew through the air, firing a stray shot into the darkness.

“Allison, the others have already gotten away with Lilian. I’ll stay here with you,” Gordon said, his movements quick and precise.

His face was hidden in shadow, making it hard to see his expression.

In the chaos, he found a rare chance to release all the anger he had been holding back.

With a blank look on his face, Gordon seemed like nothing more than a killing machine.

“Where the hell did you come from, you little punk?” Jareth swore, gripping his wrist, which was throbbing from the kick.

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