Chapter 487

In the wee hours of the morning, a sleek red sports car pulled off a stunning fishtail maneuver before coming to a halt in front of a nightclub.

Elsie gracefully unfolded her toned legs from the low car, stepping out into the night. She was dressed to kill in a form–fitting black mermaid gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her crystal–studded stilettos sparkled under the moonlight, their sharp heels like daggers poised above the hearts of men.

“Ms. Archer. He’s still inside. I’ve had my eyes glued,” one of her subordinates stepped out of the shadows.

With a gaze as cold as the moon, Elsie lifted her delicate left hand to skillfully twist her raven hair into an elegant updo, securing it casually with a silver hairpin adorned with a crimson ruby.

Her movements were fluid poetry, leaving her subordinate utterly entranced.

“Stay on the lookout and be ready for cleanup duty.”

Inside the nightclub, shadows and light danced together, creating an atmosphere of mysterious allure.

Elsie clenched her jaw, weaving through the crowd lost in revelry, her eyes fixed on her target seated at the edge of the bar – Elvis. With each step closer, her heartbeat intensified, the surrounding noise fading into oblivion as if she were stepping into a dream.

Elsie readjusted her sultry hair, preparing for the night’s climax. Undoubtedly, she would use her favorite hairpin to strike decisively. Moments later, Elsie was behind Elvis, her soft hand nearly on his shoulder when suddenly, her wrist throbbed with pain, and the world spun!

“Ah!”

The next second, Elsie’s back slammed against a table, the pain so intense she gasped for air.

His reflexes were not of this world – they belonged to a devil! Elvis’s rough right hand imprisoned her delicate wrist, his left brutally squeezing her neck, his grip tightening relentlessly.

Over these years, as a top–tire secret agent, while executing the mission overseas, he occasionally would undergo assassination organized by his enemy Years of having been in dire straits had honed his senses to the extreme; even the slightest rustle could not escape his vigilance!

Now, with Elsie pinned beneath him, the suffocating pressure turned her face crimson, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

“Is it you?”

Elvis loosened his grip, startled by the recognition.

Elsie gasped for breath, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably. Onlookers whispered among themselves, mistaking the scene for a domestic dispute, too wary to intervene.

“Dude looks sharp, but man, is he trashy, domestic violence in public?!”

“Better mind our own business; they seem like they’re into it. Let’s just bail.”

Elvis’s face darkened at the murmurs.

“You hurt me,” Elsie struggled to rise, her back pain rendering her unable to straighten up.

“My apologies, occupational hazard,” Elvis’s long arm hooked around her waist and hoisted her up in one swift motion.

Elsie instinctively wrapped her arms around his strong waist, her breath warm and enticing. However, Elvis simply glared coldly, “Ms. Archer, aside from my sister, there’s no other woman who gets to hold me like that. You’re quite bold, aren’t you?” “You’re very protective of your sister. How envious to have such a handsome brother.” Elsie’s lips curved into a practiced, mesmerizing smile, “She must be very beautiful, right?”

His eyes lingered on her exquisite face, his heart quivering. The resemblance to his sister was uncanny. If she dressed in the same clothes, styled her hair the same way, even he might mistake her for his sibling, let alone Thaddeus!

into a smirk as he tilted her chin upward, “In terms of beauty, you rival

voice trembling, “But there’s always a hierarchy, levels of

hesitation, he replied, “Of course,

he just clueless or overly fond of his sister? But his

his deep eyes, “You are

chest, her voice nonchalant, “Mister, you must believe that our previous encounters were

eyebrow, “Oh, how lucky I am.”

body pressing against his, her eyes

her heart race, yet she managed

eyes were like X–rays, lie detectors. But in that moment, he felt a hint of truth in her words.

repay me, huh?” Elvis let out a mischievous grin,

excitement, “Whatever

scene shifted abruptly-

expecting that Elvis’s idea of repayment was

on his hand, carefully placing the last block on top. Meanwhile, the bartender had

man, the sudden game disrupting

let’s say one shot for you, three for me,” Elvis’s eyes glinted like amber sunken

deep breath, steeling her nerves, “A promise

The game began.

all the Ashbourne children, and Jenga was a favorite from his childhood, often played

would sit in a corner, playing with these childhood toys to soothe his soul

liquor that set her stomach ablaze. Sweat beaded on Elsie’s forehead, the fiery alcohol

life she deemed worthless. She had immersed herself

body, though seemingly radiant, was riddled with scars beneath

3

lost again,” Elvis teased her, shaking his empty glass with a devil–may–care

her glass, Elvis leaned in, his large hand covering the rim, “If you can’t drink anymore, just let it be. It’s only a game.

bet, and

the glass from him and with a flushed face,

slightly, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a subtle smirk. This woman, stubborn and unyielding, had a

Perhaps it was his foul mood, but Elvis, the one who was usually alcohol tolerable,

I won! I won again!”

innocent joy of a young

sister, Evadne, who would run around in glee after finally

days, always protected by us. Unlike now,

your turn.”

saw a tear glisten in the sorrowful depths of Elvis’s eyes, fleeting like a shooting

won. That’s nice.”

touching his glass to hers, “I wish you

that, he drained his glass, the liquid trailing down his chiseled

such words before. Always, others demanded, controlled, commanded her. No one had ever said to her, ‘I hope

hands instinctively reached for Elvis’s broad shoulders, her soft lips finding

back of her head, and as he

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