Chapter 239

Earlier, she had performed a ritual in the dead of night, using Sophia's hair to trace the aura bound to it. The moment she broke the opposing formation, the backlash hit him hard. While the old man was spitting blood from the backlash, she struck, ending his life without hesitation. With his death, Sophia lost his power, and her appearance changed. Her once graceful features now seemed hollow; her aura, a shadow of its former high-society elegance. This is why she was hurrying to deal with Finnian—to siphon his luck and energy to restore her own. Now, using Francis, she was bold enough to bring everything into the open. It was all part of her plan to use this villa, to follow the clues, and expose the enemy, leaving them no escape.

“This place is creepy, isn’t it? Do you think it’s haunted?” Selah asked, shivering with unease.

Freya, equally unnerved, grabbed her arm and whispered, “Don’t say things like that! It’s freaking me out.”

Stellan, however, was more focused. Checking the doors and windows, he raised an eyebrow. “This villa’s layout is a little odd.”

“How so?” Francis asked, half-distracted but curious.

Stellan surveyed the space and pointed toward the windows. “There are eight of them, but each one is different. When we were filming, I saw something similar—a formation. The setup was close to this one. I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence, but look—the arrangement of these chairs is also octagonal, perfectly aligning with the windows.” He gestured to the living room.

Odalys raised a surprised eyebrow. She hadn’t expected Stellan to apply his filming knowledge here.

“Yes, this is definitely a formation. During the day, sunlight gathers here; at night, it gathers moonlight,” she added cryptically.

It was clear: someone had been using this place for rituals, sitting in the center, drawing power. The old man had been seated there when she ended his life; his blood stained the ground where he fell.

With a cold smirk, Odalys turned and led Selah and Freya toward a side room. “Stellan, come with us.”

“Okay,” Stellan replied, puzzled but following.

Francis was about to follow, but before he could, Odalys sharply turned, pushing him back. He stumbled before she slammed the door shut.

Francis’ lips moved, but the sound of a revving engine cut him off. A group of people stormed in, led by his manager.

“Francis! Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you all day and night! You’re hiding here?!” The manager, wearing a hat and sunglasses, marched in haughtily.

Behind her stood a woman in a white Sophia dress, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She looked at Francis tragically, biting her lip as tears streamed down her face. “I knew you were avoiding me. You were hiding because I went to the airport to pick you up, right? You went off to do a variety show, and now you’re seeing someone else! Is that it? You think I’m no longer good enough for you? That’s why you won’t reply to my messages, answer my calls, and now you’re holed up here by yourself? I’ve been with you for over six months; I even quit my job to be by your side. And now you’re just going to throw me away?” Her voice cracked as she took a step closer.

Francis instinctively stepped back. Once, he would have felt protective, seeing her as fragile, but now, he only saw something twisted in her eyes—eyes that, despite their tears, were full of coldness.

“I’ve already told you—we’re not right for each other. I broke up with you. What more do you want from me!” Francis rubbed his temples, trying to stay calm.

Before he could respond, several tall, imposing men—bodyguards—walked in. They stood by the door, blocking his escape.

“Are you planning to force me back? I told you, I don’t want to be with you. I won’t marry you either,” Francis snapped. “Don’t forget, I’m on vacation. I’m not obligated to participate in anything you want me to.”

The manager smirked and calmly removed her sunglasses. Crossing her arms, she looked at him with disdain. “You really think you’re some big shot now, don’t you? I made you into an international model, and now you’re acting like you’ve made it? If it weren’t for your body, do you think I’d be running around after you, putting in all this work? Have you even looked in the mirror lately to see what you’ve become?”

Francis was silent. His fists clenched as he glanced toward the room where Odalys and the others had gone.

“Go check in there!” the manager barked.

The bodyguards stormed toward the door. Francis tried to stop them, but they were faster, kicking the door open. They searched the room. “No one’s in there.” The rest of the bodyguards reported the same: the villa had been checked, and no one was there.

Francis’ heart skipped a beat. Though he trusted Odalys and the others, a lingering fear gripped him. They had no obligation to protect him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been caught off guard.

His phone buzzed. He saw that Odalys had received the million dollars he’d sent her. His breath caught. Before he could process the shock, the bodyguards seized him, and his manager snatched his phone. Her eyes widened when she saw the transaction.

“You were still thinking about sending money to someone else right before you die!” The manager’s face flushed with rage.

The woman in the white dress stepped forward, wiping away her tears. She looked at Francis coldly. “So, you really were cheating, huh? But that’s fine. You won’t be around to regret it. Since you’ve betrayed me, your death won’t even make me feel guilty.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.

The bodyguards held Francis tightly as he struggled, his shirt ripping to reveal his toned abs. His lips moved, but all he could think of was the woman he once loved—who had now become a stranger, full of venom.

“What do you want from me? Are you doctors? What is this? Are you going to kill me?” Francis shouted, fighting back with everything he had.