Chapter 392: Hunters and Prey

Chapter 392: Hunters and Prey
Rex's POV

I'd seen a lot of sketchy shit in my career, but something about the way these villagers reacted when I mentioned Sophie White's name set off every alarm bell in my head. Their eyes darted away too quickly, their smiles too forced. But it was Orson, whose reaction concerned me most. Behind his polite facade, I caught a flash of something cold and calculating in his eyes.

They want to kill us, I realized with absolute certainty. Or at least, they want to silence us.

Standing on the dirt road with just my film crew around me, I knew we were outnumbered. The villagers who had gathered were carrying farm tools that could easily double as weapons. My gaze swept over them, cataloging faces and positions. If they decided to attack, we'd be in serious trouble. I'd only brought a small security detail—at least visibly—and we couldn't track all the suspicious villagers spreading out around us.

"Mr. Pritchard," I said, keeping my voice steady, "I find it strange that Sophie would leave without telling anyone, especially since she seemed fine at the bonfire yesterday."

Orson's smile never reached his eyes. "Young people these days, so impulsive. Maybe she got a call from home."

I'd been in enough dangerous situations to recognize when things were about to go south. The villagers were closing in, pretending to be curious onlookers while actually forming a perimeter around us. I needed to act fast.

With a casual movement, I pressed the emergency button on my phone in my pocket. The signal would alert my real security team—a hundred-strong special ops unit I'd positioned around the village perimeter today.

"Mr. Pritchard," I continued, stalling for time, "we had an agreement about filming here. Sophie was an important part of our show."

"Agreements change," he said, his voice hardening. "If you're going to be unreasonable about this, then please leave my village. We don't welcome your filming anymore."

More villagers appeared, carrying hoes, sickles, and axes. The situation was deteriorating rapidly.

"Good people of Birchfield," Orson called out, "there's no issue here. Just a misunderstanding. Everyone should handle their own business."

I didn't miss how several of the villagers straightened at those words, as if they'd received specific instructions. That was a code phrase.

Before anyone could make another move, my backup arrived. From behind houses, barns, and trees, men and women in tactical gear emerged, moving with military precision. Within seconds, they had spread throughout the village, securing positions at every exit.

The villagers froze, confusion and fear replacing their earlier aggression. I nodded slightly to the two operatives standing behind me. They moved forward in perfect sync, grabbing Orson by the arms and restraining him before he could react.

"What the—" Orson struggled against their grip. "This is assault! You can't do this!"

I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. "I think we need to have a chat, Mr. Pritchard."

"Hey, buddy, what are you doing?" Orson's demeanor changed instantly, trying to sound reasonable and confused. "Sophie left on her own. You can't blame me or take your anger out on me. Grabbing people like this is illegal."

The villagers who had been inching closer stopped in their tracks as more of my security team appeared, weapons visible but not pointed.

"Release our village head!" one man shouted, brandishing his hoe. "You have no right!"

"This is outrageous!" a woman yelled. "We welcomed you to film in our village, and this is how you repay us? By assaulting our leader?"

"You ungrateful outsiders!" another added. "First you come here demanding to film, and now you turn violent!"

Luke stepped forward, positioning himself between the angry villagers and us. "Everyone stay calm," he urged, his doctor's voice carrying authority. "No one needs to get hurt here."

"EVERYONE FREEZE!" I bellowed, my voice cutting through the chaos.

The crowd fell silent, startled by my command. I pulled Orson closer, making it clear he was now our hostage.

"Nobody moves," I said coldly. "Your village head stays with us until we get some answers."

I could see the confusion on the faces of the other celebrities and crew members. They had no idea what was happening or why I'd suddenly taken control. Only Alayna remained calm, her eyes scanning the crowd with the same analytical precision I was using.

Jovan looked like he was about to have a heart attack. His face had gone pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he stepped forward.

"Everyone calm down," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Your village head is in our custody now, so don't try anything stupid!"

Orson remained remarkably composed for a man being restrained. His relaxed demeanor only confirmed my suspicions—he didn't know about my hidden security team and thought he still had the upper hand.

"This is ridiculous," he said calmly. "You can't just grab people without reason. What exactly am I being accused of? At least tell me that."

I studied his face. He was stalling, waiting for something—or someone—to intervene. Every second we wasted here gave his accomplices more time to hide evidence or, worse, harm Sophie and Adam if they hadn't already.

We need to move fast, I thought. If Sophie and Adam are still alive, they won't be for long once these people realize we're serious.

The tension in the air was palpable. Nora, one of the celebrity guests, suddenly stepped back, her hand pressed to her forehead.

"I don't feel well," she announced dramatically. "I'm dizzy... I need to leave."

Before I could respond, Jason, who had been silently observing the situation, casually took a stick and tripped Nora, sending her crashing to the ground.

"There," Jason said coolly as Nora lay stunned on the dirt. "Now you can rest."

The crowd fell into shocked silence. Even my security team looked surprised by Jason's direct approach. But it had the desired effect—no one else tried to leave.