Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Ryder was shouting himself hoarse, but Nicholas showed no reaction whatsoever.

Too panicked to notice the dark undercurrent churning in Nicholas's eyes, Ryder kept rambling:

"Lindsey's been fragile since she was little. If she has an episode without treatment, she'll die! What are we going to do, Nicholas? You can't abandon her."

Not far away, Raina stood by the car wrapped in a cashmere coat.

Compared to Ryder, she was far calmer—no tears, no screaming. She simply stared woodenly at the black cargo ship on the distant sea.

Nicholas glanced at Ryder and replied coldly, "I'll bring your daughter back."

Ryder's eyes lit up. He nodded frantically.

"Yes, of course you will! She's your fiancée. The Kennedy family and the Russell family are supposed to unite next month—you have to save her!"

"Mr. Russell."

Facing that tear-streaked face, Nicholas finally couldn't hold back. His expression turned complicated as he spoke: "Diana is also your daughter."

Ryder's expression froze. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"How can she compare to Lindsey? You love Lindsey, don't you? You're only marrying that ungrateful daughter of mine to torture and punish her, aren't you?"

He leaned forward half a step, his tone urgent.

"If it really comes down to it—if only one of them can survive—you'll choose Lindsey. Diana deserves whatever happens to her. Consider it atonement for her trashy mother!"

Bang!

Nicholas kicked Ryder square in the chest.

Ryder screamed and fell backward into the cold, muddy water, clutching his chest, unable to catch his breath.

"Kennedy family business is none of your concern."

Nicholas withdrew his leg, his gaze heavy and oppressive.

Just then, a battered black tender boat pulled up to shore. Two mercenaries in tactical vests, carrying automatic rifles, jumped onto the dock.

The black barrels of their guns pointed at everyone present.

"Mr. Kennedy, my boss requests your presence. Only you. Alone."

Terry immediately stepped forward, his hand moving to the gun at the small of his back.

Nicholas raised a hand to stop him. Clearly, he'd anticipated this moment.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it to Terry. Wearing only a thin black dress shirt, he strode onto the tender.

The motor roared to life. The boat cut through the waves, speeding toward the cargo ship in international waters.

Terry watched the tender disappear into the distance, then quickly grabbed the satellite phone.

"Mr. Kennedy is boarding. All units, close the net. Helicopter squadron, take off. Amphibious assault teams, move to predetermined coordinates. If you meet resistance, shoot to kill."

Deep in the night sky, the low thrum of rotors mingled with the roar of the waves.

International waters. The cargo ship's lower hold.

Lindsey's convulsions were gradually weakening. Broken, muffled sounds came from her throat. Her muscles had gone rigid all over—she couldn't even move her fingers.

Diana wasn't much better off. Her hands were a bloody mess, skin peeled back, blood dripping from her fingertips and splattering onto the deck.

She slumped against the rusted iron wall, watching helplessly as the man in the baseball cap emerged from the shadows, toying with a triangular military bayonet.

"She's dying," Diana said, her voice hoarse as she looked at the man. "Save her."

The man stopped and turned to her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"You're begging for her? A few minutes ago, she wanted to cut the baby out of your belly. I'm not begging for her. Letting her die like this would be too easy. She owes me. She has to live to pay that debt... She has to live to face justice!"

Hearing this answer, the man nodded knowingly.

He stepped forward, pulled an emergency syringe from his tactical pocket, and roughly jabbed it into Lindsey's neck, pushing the clear liquid in.

Lindsey's body jerked. Her breathing gradually steadied, but she remained frozen in place.

Her eyes rolled back as she stared at the man in terror.

"She won't die anytime soon." The man stood up and pulled out a rag to wipe the needle.

"You're surprisingly kind-hearted. If she'd actually died from her condition here, I might've been in a good mood and let you walk away alive."

Diana stared intently into the man's eyes, her words certain: "You won't let me go."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"So sure about that?"

Diana pressed her hand against her cramping stomach, forcing herself to stay conscious.

"You don't look like a bad person, which means you must have a purpose. Whoever's behind you went to a lot of trouble setting this up."

"They want a show. They want to watch Lindsey and me tear each other apart, watch Nicholas face an impossible choice. Whether it's Lindsey or me, we're just bait."

She pulled at her cracked lips and let out a cold laugh.

"Bait doesn't get to escape. If I don't die, how will you answer to them?"

The man looked at her for two seconds, then suddenly started clapping. The sound echoed through the empty hall.

"No wonder that person warned me never to underestimate you." He put away the bayonet, his tone taking on a more serious edge.

Diana forced herself to sit up straighter.

"How did my mother really die? If you know the truth, why not just tell me?"

The man pressed down the brim of his cap, his mouth twisting into a malicious smile.

"Don't rush. The game hasn't reached its climax yet. Revealing the answer now would ruin the fun."

Clang.

The heavy iron door let out a dull grinding sound.

The door was kicked open. Nicholas strode into the hold. Two fully armed mercenaries followed behind him, submachine guns pointed at the back of his head.

The hold was dimly lit. He immediately spotted Lindsey lying on the floor, unable to move.

Then his gaze shifted to the corner.

Diana leaned against the wall. Her down jacket had been slashed to ribbons, the white stuffing inside soaked with horrifying amounts of blood.

Her hands were raw and mangled, blood still dripping from them.

Her thin body swayed with the rocking of the ship, but she still cradled her abdomen protectively.

Nicholas's breathing stopped.

"Mr. Kennedy, what an honor." The man spread his arms and walked toward Nicholas, studying him brazenly.

"Coming out to international waters alone—that takes guts! Mr. Kennedy really won't let the woman he loves most die."

Nicholas ignored the provocation.

He pulled his gaze away from Diana and quickly scanned the terrain and the layout of firepower around him.

The man followed Nicholas's line of sight, glancing at Diana in the corner, then at Lindsey on the floor.

He walked to the space between them, kicked aside the knife on the floor with his toe, then pulled a handgun from behind his waist and deliberately chambered a round.

Click.

The cold mechanical sound was especially jarring in the deathly quiet hold.

The black barrel first pointed at Lindsey.

Lindsey's pupils contracted sharply. A terrified whimper came from her throat, but she couldn't even struggle.

The next second, the man slowly shifted his wrist, pointing the gun at Diana in the corner.

Nicholas's fingers silently curled into a fist.

The man took in every detail, his smile growing more excited.

"Mr. Kennedy, stop pretending. You dared to board this ship alone because you want to save the woman who matters most to you, don't you?"

The man stood between them, the gun barrel swinging back and forth between Diana and Lindsey as if he were selecting prey.

"There's only one bullet in this gun. Diana or Lindsey—you choose which one lives."

"Whichever you choose lives. The other one dies."

"If you don't choose, I'll make them both go down together."

The lower hold fell into dead silence, filled only with the dull sound of waves crashing against the hull. Nicholas stared at the gun moving between the two women, dark currents surging in his eyes.

The man tilted his head and slowly stepped closer, his voice carrying malicious excitement.

"Come on, Mr. Kennedy. Show me which woman you truly love."