Chapter 89
On the opposite street!
Elizabeth's eyes went cold. In the gap between rolls, her left hand quickly pulled out a pistol from the hidden holster at the back of her waist!
Her body had not yet found its balance, but instinct and muscle memory took over. Guided solely by the sound's origin, she raised the weapon and fired two quick, successive shots toward a shadowy corner opposite them.
She wasn't aiming to kill, but to suppress, to disrupt. The retort of her own gun echoed sharply in the open street, painfully loud, triggering the distant wail of car alarms and people's exclamations.
Pinned beneath Elizabeth, Lucy trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face, too terrified even to scream.
Elizabeth held her position in a half-kneel, shielding Lucy with her own body. The target was clearly Lucy. The attack was vicious and decisive, an obvious attempt at a public execution. The fake Mr. Smith—or rather, the person who had ordered Lucy's elimination—was so impatient that they couldn't even wait for Nightfall to act, sending their own assassin right before her eyes. What audacity.
A cold arc curved Elizabeth's lips. In the distance, the sharp, piercing wail of police sirens grew steadily closer.
Sheltered behind her, Lucy was a boneless heap on the ground, scared witless. Her meticulously applied makeup was now a disastrous mess of tears and grime. Hearing the sirens, she seemed to latch onto a lifeline, scrambling and crawling toward the approaching sound.
"The… the cops are here… I have to go… I have to get out of here…" She stammered, her whole body shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind.
"If you leave now, you might not make it to the next block," Elizabeth's voice was as cold and clear as ice. She didn't turn, but her words froze Lucy in place.
"Wh-what do you mean?" Lucy's voice was thick with sobs as she looked back, incredulous. "They're after you! Mr. Smith's enemies! What does this have to do with me? I… I just got caught in the crossfire!"
She had naturally assumed that Elizabeth was the one being hunted. Jacob's fiancée, after all, was bound to have countless enemies; an assassination attempt felt almost normal. She, Lucy, had just been in the wrong place at the fatally wrong time.
Elizabeth finally tore her gaze from the opposite side of the street and rose slowly to her feet, the gun still firm in her hand, not yet holstered. She looked down at Lucy, her expression devoid of sympathy, filled only with a near-cruel calm.
"Think carefully," she said, enunciating each word. "Those first few shots. Were they aimed at you, or at me?"
Lucy stared, her mind a chaotic replay of the terrifying moment. The first bullet had whizzed past her ear. If Elizabeth hadn't tackled her, the second, and the third… hadn't they seemed to target the very spot where she had fallen? A profound chill crept up her spine, and her lips began to tremble. "No… that's impossible… Who would want to kill me? I'm…"
"Who would want to kill you?" Elizabeth finished the sentence for her. "The person who's afraid you'll spill their secrets. The one who's desperate to silence you forever."
The words struck Lucy like a bolt of lightning, her face turning a ghastly white. No, it couldn't be…
The blinding strobes of police cruisers now bathed the area in pulsating red and blue light. Several officers, guns drawn, cautiously exited their vehicles, shouting, "Drop the weapon! Hands behind your head!"
Elizabeth glanced at Lucy, who remained slumped on the ground, lost in a maelstrom of terror and confusion. She calmly engaged the safety on her pistol, placed it gently by her feet, and then raised her hands, signaling she was no threat. The officers advanced quickly, keeping their weapons trained on both her and Lucy while radioing for backup and paramedics.
"What happened here? Who fired the shots? Is anyone hurt?" A stern-looking officer, who appeared to be the captain, demanded, his eyes darting between Elizabeth, Lucy, and the bullet marks on the pavement.
Elizabeth's expression was placid. She was about to give a concise account of the events, that they were attacked by an unknown gunman, and she had returned fire in self-defense while protecting Lucy.
Before she could speak, however, the sharp clack of high heels on the ground cut through the air, accompanied by a piercing female voice, "What is going on?! Who dares to open fire here?! Is anyone hurt?!"
Everyone followed the sound and looked over, only to see Lilith Moretti, flanked by several bodyguards, pushing her way past the police tape with an air of imperious fury. She was draped in an expensive fur coat, her makeup flawless, and her eyes immediately scanned for Elizabeth and the crumpled form of Lucy on the ground.
Upon seeing that Elizabeth was unharmed aside from some dust on her clothes, and that Lucy, though disheveled, was also not shot, a flicker of profound, almost imperceptible disappointment and annoyance crossed Lilith's face. It was gone so quickly that one might have thought it a trick of the light.
She strode up to the officer in charge and, before he could answer her question, raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across his face.
Everyone froze—the other officers, the few onlookers who had gathered.
"Useless!" Lilith shrieked, her finger nearly poking the captain's nose. "What are you police even for?! Letting armed thugs run rampant in the city! They nearly harmed Mr. Smith's fiancée! If anything had happened to Ms. Windsor, could you have borne the responsibility?! Now get to it! Find the shooter! I want you to tear this entire area apart until you find them!" Her voice was shrill and her presence terrifyingly commanding.
The slapped officer clutched his cheek, his face a mask of shock and rage. But under the menacing glares of the Moretti family bodyguards behind Lilith, he swallowed his anger. His face turning a dark, mottled red, he barked at his subordinates, "What are you standing around for! Expand the search perimeter! Pull all the surveillance footage from the area! Move!"
The officers scrambled into action.
Only then did Lilith seem to relax, turning to Elizabeth with a mask of concern and apology. "Ms. Windsor, are you alright? You scared me to death! I was just having dinner nearby when I heard the gunshots and rushed over! Thank God you're safe! Jacob would have been so worried!" As she spoke, she reached out as if to take Elizabeth's hand in a show of intimacy.
Elizabeth subtly sidestepped the gesture, her gaze calm and steady as she watched Lilith, taking in every detail of her performance.
Her reaction had been too fast. The shooting had occurred only minutes ago. The police had just arrived, yet Lilith was already on the scene.
And her behavior was excessively dramatic. Slapping a police officer in public, ostensibly to defend Elizabeth and pressure the investigation, felt more like an attempt to force them to find a convenient scapegoat. It was almost as if Lilith was worried about what a thorough investigation might uncover.
"I'm fine, thank you for your concern, Ms. Moretti," Elizabeth said coolly, her tone unreadable. "A little shaken, is all. Lucy needs more attention."
Lilith's gaze fell upon Lucy, her eyes instantly turning cold with disgust, as if she were looking at a piece of filth. She quickly masked it, however, and instructed an officer, "Take care of this young lady as well. She's also a victim."
Then she turned back to Elizabeth, her voice once again dripping with solicitous warmth. "Ms. Windsor, it's chaotic and unsafe here. Let me take you home. Or, if you don't mind, I can accompany you to the hospital for a check-up?"
"That won't be necessary," Elizabeth's refusal was blunt. "The police need to process the scene, and I need to give a statement. If you have other business, Ms. Moretti, please don't let me keep you."
She needed space. Space to process the sudden attack and the connection it might have to Lilith's abnormal behavior.
Rebuffed, Lilith's smile faltered slightly, but she couldn't press the issue. "Very well," she said, a hint of pique in her voice. "Please be careful, Ms. Windsor. If you need anything at all, just call me."
She shot one last withering glare at the police officers before turning on her heel. Flanked by her bodyguards, she sashayed away under the complex stares of everyone present. Elizabeth watched her retreating back, her eyes deep and thoughtful.