Secrets of the Neglected Wife - Chapter 799

Chapter 799:

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A chill enveloped Mollie as she clasped the emerald, its surface cold and unyielding despite her attempts to warm it.

The unethical experiments, elite meetings, and the notorious reputation of Immortality Pharmaceuticals swirled through her mind like a tempest.

“I can go with you,” Mollie declared, her gaze shifting toward the door. “But these are my husband’s bodyguards. They take no orders from me.”

Her resolve was shaky, but for her daughter’s sake, she was willing to grasp at any possibility. Most importantly, a deep intuition told her that her daughter might actually be at Fleeingland Lab.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Blake. I have a plan,” Allison assured her, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze. “But very soon, I’ll need your help.”

Outside the room, the bodyguards kept a vigilant watch, their eyes flicking to their watches.

“That woman can only stay in Mrs. Blake’s room for ten minutes,” one muttered. “If the problem lingers any longer, we’ll have to bring Charles into the loop.”

Just then, a sharp crash cut through the quiet of the room.

Bang.

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It was the unmistakable sound of a vase breaking.

Allison’s scream pierced the air next. “Help!”

The bodyguards sprang into action, charging into the room with stun batons at the ready.

“What’s wrong, Mrs. Blake?”

The room swallowed their words, dark and silent. As they hesitated, a chilly breeze wafted through the window, tinged with a strange bitterness.

“Watch out, something’s off here,” one bodyguard cautioned.

Adrenaline surged, but they couldn’t pinpoint the source of the acrid smell.

The thud of a falling body soon echoed from the front of the pack.

The rear guard snapped his flashlight on, casting light on the fallen figure.

“Why did you fall? What’s happening?”

No answer came; the bodyguard lay unresponsive under the beam of light.

It hit them suddenly. “Oh no, it’s a roofie!”

Realization dawned too late.

The room was already thick with the powder, tiny particles dancing in the beam of the flashlight, creeping into their lungs with every breath.

As the bodyguards succumbed one by one, Allison stepped out from the study, Mollie in tow, their figures emerging like shadows into the chaos.

“We need to get out of here now. This powder won’t hang around,” Allison said, pressing a damp handkerchief to her nose. She navigated around the sprawled bodyguards, leading Mollie out of the turmoil.

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