The Humble Ex-wife is Now A Brilliant Tycoon

Chapter 27:

“Out! Move it!” A rough hand dragged Christina out of the van with little care.

Nothing but emptiness surrounded them—the landscape barren, an abandoned warehouse looming ahead like a warning.

Christina’s ankles were trussed together, the rope giving her just enough freedom to shuffle, never enough to move fast.

Disheveled hair fell across her face as they pushed her ahead, her balance faltering more than once.

Her captors started chatting. “When are the Terrells supposed to show?”

“Just got a call—Jacob’s coming himself to handle her.”

A nasty click of the tongue followed. “She’s in for it, then. Everyone knows about Jacob’s twisted tastes in intimate encounters. He likes it when they scream in pain.”

“Doesn’t concern us. All we do is hold her till the Terrells arrive. We grab our money and disappear. No point sticking our necks out. Only thing to remember—keep your hands off the employer’s target. Get the cash, and there’s plenty of pretty chicks out there to play with later.”

By this point, Christina had been tossed unceremoniously into a dusty corner.

Clouds of filth rose as she hit the concrete, the grime adding to her already battered appearance. She already looked a mess, and the dirt stuck to her just made things worse.

Beneath the surface, however, her mind was razor-sharp, nerves steady as steel, taking in every word they said.

Hearing that Jacob planned to come in person, her mouth twitched ever so slightly, a glimmer of dark humor sparking in her eyes. So, she wouldn’t even have to hunt the Terrells down—Jacob was volunteering himself for the slaughter. He thought he could break her and make her beg for mercy? How amusing. Let him dream.

Jacob’s arrival would be the signal. The curtain would rise on the true spectacle. Her captors would be granted front-row seats to her metamorphosis—from a seemingly cornered, trembling rabbit into something far more dangerous.noveldrama

Read the newest chapters gⱯlnσν𝓮ℓs․cøm

“Forget about running. You’re not getting anywhere. Cooperate, and it’ll hurt less. Sit tight!”

That final threat hung in the air as the kidnappers sauntered out, utterly convinced she was too rattled to attempt an escape. In their minds, she looked too defeated, too broken to even bother trying. To them, she was just a caged sparrow—flightless, helpless.

They couldn’t have guessed that as they lingered outside, passing cigarettes and checking their watches, Christina was already twisting her wrists against the ropes. She wasn’t about to spring free just yet. The bindings were loose enough to slip in a second, but she bided her time, hidden by stillness.

Head dipped low, a subtle, chilling smile played across her lips. Her eyes glowed with a hint of red, a ruthless promise gleaming deep within.

A storm of cruelty and madness churned in Christina’s eyes, as if some ancient beast waited to burst free. Had anyone glimpsed her expression in that moment, the raw threat would have sent them fleeing in terror.

“Mr. Terrell!” A loud shout shattered the silence, paired with the abrupt cutoff of a car engine.

“Where is that little bitch?” Jacob’s voice, thick with arrogance and malice, echoed into the warehouse.

“She’s inside,” came the immediate reply from one of the hired kidnappers.

“Stay here and don’t let anyone in.”

“Understood!”

Seated in a wheelchair, Jacob let one of his goons roll him across the dusty concrete. The woman inside had stripped him of his pride in a bar fight—left his manhood ruined and barely clinging to life. Retribution burned in his veins. Today, she’d pay for every humiliation.

Whispers had circulated for years: the elusive doctor King could supposedly repair injuries no one else dared to touch—even restore what had been lost and make it better than before.

Getting close to King, however, was nearly impossible. No amount of power or money had opened that door.

Left with no options, the Terrells had shifted their focus to the shooting champion, hoping to buy or bully their way into a miracle cure from King. But fate had a twisted sense of humor—the marksman they hunted was the very woman who’d destroyed Jacob’s manhood from the start.

.

.

.