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Chapter 1170:
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Eaton’s brow furrowed as he flipped through the comprehensive documentation. He shot Gracie a calculating look.
Was she actually serious about this collaboration at such a critical moment, or was this elaborate theater?
Meanwhile, at the remote resort, dark figures moved like ghosts through the shadows.
Charlie crouched in the darkness, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his healing injuries. “Our objective tonight is extraction only. Get Jessie out without raising any alarms.”
“Understood, sir.” The elite tactical team behind him acknowledged in perfect unison.
Charlie’s hand cut through the air in a silent signal, and the team melted into the darkness.
The two guards posted at the resort’s entrance went down without a sound.
Following Gracie’s precise coordinates, the team moved deeper into the compound with methodical efficiency.
Inside her locked room, Jessie perched on the edge of the bed, her makeshift phone clutched in white-knuckled hands.
She’d spent the entire afternoon dialing random numbers and had only connected once. Despite her desperate plea for help, no police had materialized.
𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“Please tell me he didn’t just dismiss it as a prank call.” Jessie’s grip tightened until the crude device creaked in protest.
Just then, a soft knock at the door made her jump, every muscle in her body going rigid. “I already told you — I’m not eating! Go away!”
Silence answered her from the other side — just that same patient, persistent knocking.
Frustration boiling over, Jessie shot to her feet and yanked the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you—”
Before she could finish, a hand clamped gently over her mouth. “It’s me, Charlie. Stay quiet. I’m getting you out of here.”
Tears flooded Jessie’s eyes immediately, and she grabbed Charlie’s arm with desperate strength. “Take me to Gracie — now. I know what Eaton’s really trying to do. He’s trying to resurrect Theo.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide with shock, his pupils contracting to pinpoints as the impossible implication crashed over him.
Inside the club, Eaton set the proposal down on the polished table. “It’s impressively thorough, but ultimately far too idealistic. If you’re both genuinely serious about moving forward with this collaboration, the proposal will need substantial refinement. That said, I’m interested.”
He extended his hand across the table.
Gracie exchanged a quick glance with Conroy, a calculated smile touching her lips, then reached out to accept the handshake.
The proposal had been thrown together in a matter of hours that very afternoon by the Russell Group’s planning department.
Though rudimentary, it was convincing enough to occupy Eaton’s attention for a few critical hours.
Eaton’s fingers were inches from hers when a shrill ringtone cut through the moment.
He withdrew his hand sharply, checked the caller ID, and fixed both of them with a loaded, suspicious stare. “I need to take this. I’ll return momentarily.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode from the room.
The instant the door closed, Conroy’s expression darkened. “Do you think he knows? That someone tipped him off about the rescue?”
.
.
.