Chapter 335: Going Down Together
Dominic had been calmly observing the erratic movements of Frank's vehicle ahead. When he saw Frank's car suddenly lose control and swerve wildly, he figured the guy was panicking, making some last-ditch move. But when he realized Frank's car wasn't slowing down—instead, it was adjusting direction with deadly intent, charging straight at him—Dominic's eyes went wide. He instantly understood: the crazy bastard was going for a murder-suicide!
"Shit!" Dominic reacted lightning-fast, yanking the steering wheel hard while slamming the brakes. His driving skills were equally exceptional as he tried to avoid the fatal collision. The tires screamed against the asphalt as his black sedan slid sideways, barely missing Frank's car by inches. Metal screamed as the cars clipped each other.
But Frank's goal wasn't just a collision. At the moment of near-impact, he jerked the steering wheel again, using the centrifugal force from the scraping collision to send his car sailing through the air in a grotesque arc, like a missile shooting straight off the cliff!
"No!" Dominic shouted, wanting to help but already too late.
The crash echoed like thunder through the mountains, followed by metal grinding and smashing against rock before everything fell silent. Below the cliff, only endless darkness and profound quiet remained.
Dominic's car had also crashed into the mountain wall from his violent evasive maneuvers and the collision, the front end was severely damaged, and the airbags were deployed. Shaken and dizzy with blood trickling from his forehead, he didn't care about his injuries. Fighting his way out of the car, he stumbled to the cliff edge and peered down.
In the bottomless chasm below, he could barely make out a few weak points of light—flames from the crashed vehicle burning in the darkness, looking particularly stark and desolate against the night.
Dominic pulled out his phone, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor as he reported to Nathan: "Nathan, the target vehicle... went over the cliff... Frank is probably dead."
Nathan was silent for a moment before slowly responding: "Understood. Secure the scene and wait for me."
After hanging up, Dominic stood at the cliff's edge as the night wind whipped through his hair, carrying a chill. Staring at those weak flames below, his emotions were a tangled mess.
Frank—Kismet's sharpest and most secretive blade—had met such an end. His abilities were unquestionable: calm, ruthless, efficient. He'd been a formidable opponent. Yet even someone like him couldn't escape being silenced by the very person he served. That final moment of madness and desperation, the twisted love and obsession for Kismet hidden beneath his hatred, filled Dominic with an inexplicable sadness.
The situation within the Windsor family, Kismet's ruthless cruelty, ran far deeper than they'd imagined.
Frank was dead, but this was far from over. And that woman at the center of this entire maelstrom—Kismet—her reckoning was coming soon.
Dominic clenched his fists, his gaze hardening with renewed determination. Charles would arrive shortly, and they needed to quickly examine any tampering on Frank's car and any clues he might have left behind in his final moments, adding more fuel to their upcoming assault on Kismet.
When Charles received Dominic's call, he was standing before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows in his study, overlooking the city's countless glittering lights. Dominic's voice carried fatigue and complexity as he delivered the news of Frank's plunge over the cliff.
Charles's face remained impassive, only a cold gleam flickering in his deep eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he issued a calm instruction: "Handle the aftermath. I'm on my way."
Instead of immediately departing after hanging up, Charles turned and walked toward a hidden chamber within his study. The dimly lit room contained only a chair and table, where a tall man in prisoner's clothing sat bound—it was Jett, Ewan's brother, whom Charles had captured earlier.
Hearing the door open, Jett slowly raised his head, his gaze cold and wary as he watched Charles enter. After confessing everything, he'd been held here continuously. Charles hadn't continued torturing him or even visited him, which only increased his terror.
Charles sat in the chair across from him, his piercing gaze fixed on Jett: "I have news for you."
Jett remained silent, coldly watching and waiting for him to continue.
"About Ewan. Today, in the grove behind the training camp, he was stabbed by one of Kismet's men—Frank." Charles's voice was calm and steady, yet it exploded like a bomb in Jett's mind.
Jett's body jerked violently, his previously cold eyes instantly filling with shock and disbelief: "What did you say? Ewan is..."
"Hit an artery. Massive blood loss." Charles interrupted, continuing in the same flat tone, "However, he was rather lucky. A young man named Sean happened to be nearby and called an ambulance in time. A moment later, and he'd be a corpse right now."
"Kismet!" Jett erupted, struggling violently as his chair scraped harshly against the floor. His eyes blazed red with fury, veins bulging on his forehead. "I already did what she asked! I already worked for her! Why did she still go after Ewan?! He's just a regular instructor—he doesn't know anything!" His voice was hoarse, filled with anguish and despair. All that tough-guy bullshit just fell apart. He couldn't understand why, after he'd already submitted and sold his soul, Kismet still wouldn't spare his only family.
Charles watched him lose control quietly, waiting until he'd calmed slightly before dropping his second bombshell: "Also, Frank—he's already been silenced by Kismet too. Just now, his car went over the cliff. There's nothing left of him."
"What?" Jett froze again, his rage crystallizing into a bone-deep chill. Frank... that man who'd always stayed by Kismet's side, obeying her every command, had also been eliminated?
"Do you understand now? Kismet is ruthless and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. She could dispose of someone like Frank, who'd devoted his life to serving her, without a second thought. What do you think she'd do to someone like you—a chess piece who knows her secrets and has outlived his usefulness? As long as she knows you're alive, she'll definitely find a way to kill you to eliminate all traces."