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Chapter_175
In the private estate of the Goodman family, a middle-aged man stood trembling before Braydon’s desk, his head bowed and cold sweat dripping down his temples. He was too afraid to look up.
“Mr. Goodman, we’ve checked,” the man stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “The person you’ve been searching for… she appeared at the airport with some men. One of them seems to be quite close to her.”
He faltered, the words catching in his throat. The man’s voice trailed off as Braydon, sitting behind the desk, slowly turned to face him. A cigarette dangled from Braydon’s slender fingers, his striking face barely visible through the smoke. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes burned with a dangerous intensity.
“Oh?” Braydon asked, his voice calm yet chilling. “How close are they? Go on.”
The middle-aged man, his legs unsteady, dropped to his knees, wiping sweat from his trembling hands—though they remained slick with fear. “Mr. Goodman, they’re not close. I didn’t see it clearly… I swear, I didn’t see it clearly,” he stammered desperately.
Braydon pushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray with force, his sharp eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the man. After a long moment of silence, Braydon let out a faint smile and gently brushed his fingers across a photograph of Yvette and Jeremiah at the airport. The man in the picture appeared to be standing too close to her.
“They are not close?” Braydon asked, his voice now laced with an unsettling calm.
The middle-aged man scrambled to appease him, his voice a desperate plea. “Mr. Goodman, they’re not close. There’s definitely nothing between them! I didn’t see anything that looked suspicious. I swear! I—”
Braydon’s expression remained indifferent, but a flicker of menace passed through his eyes. He glanced up suddenly, meeting the man’s eyes with a chilling gaze. The middle-aged man froze, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a split second, it felt as if Braydon was staring directly into his soul.
“Lying without a blink?” Braydon’s voice was low and dangerous. “Who taught you that?”
Before the man could react, Braydon turned back toward the window, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Kill him,” he ordered simply, the words echoing in the air.
The middle-aged man attempted to flee, but it was already too late. From the shadows, a gunshot rang out, followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor. The man’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked toward a dark corner of the room, finally realizing there was another person standing there. But it was too late.
Less than five seconds later, two men in black suits entered, swiftly removing the body without a word. The entire process was eerily efficient—almost as if nothing had happened.
Braydon, still staring at the photo in his hand, exhaled a stream of smoke. His eyes held a dangerous intensity, yet there was an unsettling sadness buried beneath. His gaze softened as he looked at Yvette’s smiling face in the picture, a longing flickering in his eyes. What a dazzling smile, he thought, his expression almost wistful.
Braydon’s slender fingers brushed against the edge of the photograph, then he pressed the still-burning cigarette against the man’s face in the picture. The man’s features melted into the burn, and Braydon smiled in dark satisfaction. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, “Jess, why do you think Yvette never smiles at me?”
From the shadows, a woman’s voice, cold and hoarse, responded. “Mr. Goodman, I don’t know.”
Braydon’s eyes narrowed further, his gaze taking on the intensity of a predator’s. “Yeah, I understand. If I don’t know, how could you?” His fingers traced the scar that ran across his brow, a mark that only added to the mysterious allure of his face.
A twisted smile curled his lips. “Yvette must have liked me. Otherwise, why would she leave me with this scar? It’s proof. But now… now she’s been captivated by another man. That’s fine. Once he’s dead, she’ll come back to me.”
He turned toward Jess, his voice cold and measured. “Jess, I’m upset. What do you think I should do?”
Without hesitation, the woman in the darkness dropped to her knees with a loud thud, her eyes gleaming with ruthless determination. “Mr. Goodman, tell me what I can do for you.”
Braydon’s eyes burned with madness. “Go kill him. Break every bone in his body. It’d be best if you could peel his skin off, piece by piece. And take a picture for me. I want to enjoy it… with Yvette. I’m sure she’ll love it, don’t you think?”
Jess rose swiftly, her figure now visible in the dim light. She wore a black leather jacket and pants, her face concealed by a mask, leaving only her cold, gleaming eyes exposed. “Yes, Mr. Goodman. Jess will follow your command.”
As she left, Braydon remained seated, his gaze shifting to a small box in the drawer to his left. He opened it to reveal a silver knife with the word “Yvette” engraved on the handle.
Braydon gently caressed the handle, then held the knife in his hand, whispering something to himself. Without a second thought, he slashed his own arm with the blade. Blood oozed from the wound, yet Braydon didn’t flinch. He stared at the blood, a smile slowly spreading across his face. It feels great. The feeling of Yvette’s dagger slicing into my skin reminds me that I am still alive.
The next day, Yvette was having breakfast at Jeremiah’s private villa with Emmett, Chris, Frankie, and Bruce. As they sat, Yvette’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen to see a message from Sienna: [Mr. Zeller, help me.]
Yvette paused, a frown flickering across her face, and excused herself, heading upstairs to make a call. The phone rang twice before Sienna picked up. Her voice came through urgently, laced with both panic and anger.
“Mr. Zeller, help me! That jerk Nathan is trying to lock me up just because I want to break up with him. He’s gone crazy, saying if we die, we die together. And his brother, Braydon, is even worse. He called Nathan and said if I don’t listen, he’ll have Nathan chop off my hands and feet and keep me like a pet. The entire Goodman family is insane!” Sienna’s voice shook with fear. “I’m not weak, though. I gave Nathan some sleeping pills and escaped, but now he’s trapped me. I have nowhere to go.”
Sienna paused, then continued with desperation. “Mr. Zeller, is there any way you can get me out of Mysonna for a while? Maybe three to five years. Once Nathan finds another woman, he’ll probably stop bothering me.”
Yvette reclined on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she processed Sienna’s words. Her tone remained calm, almost detached. “Send me your location. I’ll come pick you up.”
Sienna, stunned, took a moment to process what Yvette had said. Her voice broke through with a mix of disbelief and relief. “You’re in Mysonna? Wow, you’re truly a lifesaver, like an angel! I must have done something really good in my past life to meet someone as amazing as you!”
Yvette sighed, rubbing her temples. “Address?”
Sienna, now fully aware of her blunder, quickly gave Yvette the location and promised to wait at a nearby pizza place. As she stood there, hungry and anxious, her empty pockets reminded her of how desperately she had fled, with nothing but the clothes on her back.
All she could do was stare longingly at the pizza, stomach growling.
Meanwhile, in the distance, a black SUV sat, its occupants watching her every move.
