Chapter 138
Everything happened in a split second. The other three bodyguards watched the scene unfold before them, their faces draining of color. After exchanging glances, they rushed forward together.
Catching their movement from the corner of her eye, Charlotte's gaze sharpened, ice-cold. She pivoted smoothly to face them head-on.
Her body shifted slightly, and she shot forward.
In the blink of an eye, she reached the first man. One clean sweep of her leg, and he crashed to the ground.
Without missing a beat, she dropped into a crouch, dodging the punch swinging in from her right. The instant her hand locked around his arm, she delivered a precise chop to his carotid artery.
The man's vision went black, and his body crumpled uncontrollably to the floor.
The last bodyguard clearly hadn't expected Charlotte to be this skilled. He froze in place, stunned.
But Charlotte showed no mercy. She charged straight at him.
A heartbeat later, she was in front of him, her hand snapping out to seize his wrist with lightning speed. Then, with the slightest twist—
Everyone heard the sharp 'crack' as his joint dislocated.
Searing pain hit him instantly. He screamed, and his baton clattered to the ground with a loud clang.
In less than ten seconds, all four well-trained bodyguards lay on the ground, groaning in agony.
Not far away, Charles's face turned ghostly white at the sight. He stood frozen, completely dumbstruck.
He stared in disbelief at the bodyguards writhing on the floor, then at Charlotte—untouched, not even a wrinkle in her clothes—and stumbled backward several steps in terror until he slammed hard against a pillar.
Was this... was this really the same Charlotte he knew?
How could this girl be so lethal?
While that thought spun through his mind, Charlotte had already turned around slowly. Her gaze locked onto him, cold and menacing, as her long legs carried her toward where he stood.
With each step that closed the distance between them, Charles's heart sank deeper.
Those ice-cold eyes especially made his heart pound wildly, the blood in his veins practically freezing solid.
"What... what do you think you're doing?!" Charles's nerve broke completely. His voice came out in a shrill, hollow threat. "Don't come any closer! I'm telling you—I'm your uncle! You can't treat me like this!"
Hearing the man's blustering, Charlotte let out a cold laugh, her eyes filled with mockery.
"Uncle? You think you deserve that title?!"
"You—" Charles's anger flared. He tried to say something, but seeing Charlotte now standing right in front of him, whatever courage he'd mustered evaporated instantly.
"Now, I'm going to ask you one last time." Charlotte leaned down slowly, her lips close to his ear, her voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. "Are you going to let me through, or not?"
Catching the threat in her words, Charles suddenly became aware of everyone staring at him. The humiliation of being dominated by someone from the younger generation twisted his face with rage.
"You... Charlotte, you little brat, you think you can just—"
Hearing exactly the answer she'd expected, Charlotte lost the last shred of her patience.
She stopped acknowledging this pathetic obstacle and turned toward the entrance.
"You... Charlotte, how dare you ignore me?! Stop right there!"
Charles's fury boiled over. Instinctively, he reached out to grab Charlotte's clothes.
The instant his fingers were about to touch her hem, Charlotte whipped around. Her right hand shot out like lightning and seized him by the collar.
Before Charles could process what was happening, Charlotte used the momentum of her turn to hurl him mercilessly to the side.
A dull 'thud' echoed as Charles's entire body crashed into the ornate wrought-iron gate.
His expression contorted immediately. Clutching his injured shoulder, he collapsed to the ground in a pathetic heap.
With him dealt with, Charlotte stepped over the threshold and strode into the Langley Estate's main hall.
The living room was crowded with people—several of the Langley family elders, some distant relatives, and corporate executives. Everyone was there.
When Charlotte arrived, they'd been speaking in hushed voices about Victoria's disappearance.
The moment she walked in, every eye turned to her, and the room fell silent.
Charlotte did a quick scan. Among those gazes, she saw shock, scrutiny, schadenfreude, and some poorly concealed panic.
After taking in everyone present, her gaze finally settled on Flynn, who stood in a corner looking desperately worried.
The instant their eyes met, Charlotte strode over, her voice cold and hard, carrying an undeniable authority.
"Tell me exactly what happened. Every single detail from when my mother left the house until the incident!"
Flynn nodded and took a deep breath.
"This morning, around six-thirty, Ms. Langley was having breakfast in the dining room when her personal phone rang. Then—"
"Her personal phone rang? At six-thirty?" Charlotte seized on that crucial detail immediately.
Victoria had two phones as well—one for work, one for personal use. Only people extremely close to her knew that number.
"Yes. When Ms. Langley answered, her expression changed completely." Flynn nodded, his brow furrowed tight. "I was standing in the corner of the dining room at the time. She seemed extremely anxious. I don't know what the person on the other end said, but Ms. Langley hung up immediately after listening."
"Then she told me to get the keys to the black SUV from the garage."
"Normally, Ms. Langley takes the sedan when she goes out, always with a driver."
"But today, for some reason, she absolutely refused to let the driver accompany her. She insisted on driving herself."
"Before she left, I asked Ms. Langley where she was going, but she wouldn't say. She just told me to have Mr. Moreland handle things at the company, and then she rushed out."
After hearing Flynn's account, Charlotte fell into deep thought.
Going alone!
And refusing to let anyone follow...
Something was wrong!
She pressed her lips together, then looked up at Flynn again.
"What happened after that?"
"About an hour ago, the traffic police called." Flynn's eyes reddened as he spoke. "They said they'd found an SUV that had gone over a cliff on Ridgeback Mountain Road. The license plate matched the vehicle Ms. Langley had taken."
"They also said there were brake marks and bloodstains at the scene, along with clear signs of a struggle, so I suspect someone likely took Ms. Langley..."
After listening to Flynn's full report, Charlotte's brow furrowed deeply.
She was familiar with Ridgeback Mountain Road—an old mountain highway on the city's outskirts.
Because of how remote it was, and because a new national highway was being built nearby, virtually no vehicles traveled that route anymore.
Since the road was gradually being abandoned, the surveillance cameras along it had long since fallen into disrepair, creating what was essentially a surveillance dead zone.
Why would Victoria go there? And what did the caller say to her?