Chapter 240

Four figures in white lab coats entered the room, carrying boxes resembling medical supplies. The pungent smell of chemicals intensified with each step.

"Is this the one?" the lead figure asked.

Without hesitation, the agent pointed at Francis. "This is him. All indicators match. Now, can we proceed with the organ removal?"

"What organ removal?" Francis's voice shook with disbelief and panic. "So, this whole time, you've been with me… for my organs? You're my agent, and you're helping her betray me? Do you know this is illegal? Do you even—"

"I'm an international model," he shouted, struggling furiously. "If something happens to me, the company won't let you off. If I disappear, my fans will ask questions!"

The agent sneered and laughed bitterly. Slowly, she removed her sunglasses and tucked them into her shirt collar.

"Company?" she scoffed. "I've already canceled your contract. The penalty fees were deducted from your account. As for your fans, I've told them you've retired, that you're going home to get married and have children."

"You're an orphan, remember? No real parents. Your foster parents will think you're a cold-hearted wolf who ran off the moment you got famous. They won't care about you."

"And my sister—she's already in cahoots with them. She told them you broke up with them for love, and that's why you're disappearing." The agent's voice dripped with malice.

Her laughter echoed through the villa, a cruel prelude to what was to come.

Francis's eyes darted to the girl in the white dress; his heart raced. "Is everything she said true? You told me you loved me, that you'd marry me and stay by my side until we grew old." His voice cracked.

"You really think I'd waste my time with you?" the girl sneered. "She's my brother's fiancée. You were nothing more than a pawn in our game, a way to trap you and pull you down from your pedestal."

"You'll vanish from public view—no one will ever notice you're gone… now that you've outlived your usefulness."

Francis's heart sank. Everything was unfolding exactly as Odalys had predicted. He hadn't imagined his agent would be the mastermind. Everything had been carefully orchestrated.

"So, when I hurt my hand and you took me to the clinic for treatment, it wasn't for care—it was to match my organs, wasn't it?" Francis's voice trembled, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. His eyes were filled with hopelessness.

The girl stepped closer, her gaze soft, but her words venomous. "Now that you know, it's time to die."

Her sweet expression contrasted sharply with the malicious intent behind her words. The men in white coats approached, opening their boxes to reveal surgical instruments and what looked like organ transport containers, chillingly prepared.

Francis lay still, utterly defeated, as the bodyguards held him down. A strange calmness overcame him. He stared at everyone, his eyes empty, resigned.

"Time's running out; let's induce brain death immediately," one of the men said.

He prepared a syringe and aimed it at Francis's arm. But just as the needle made contact, something invisible seemed to block it. The needle snapped.

"What the hell?" The man stepped back, eyes wide with shock.

The others were equally stunned. The lead man grabbed another syringe, filled it with the drug, and aimed for Francis's neck. But as the needle neared his skin, Francis felt no pain.

With a sudden explosion, the syringe shattered, splashing the drug into the man's face, blinding him. He screamed, clutching his face, blood oozing from one eye. He frantically washed his eyes, but the blood continued to pour down his face.

"My eye! My eye!" he cried, his voice filled with agony.

"Shit, what the hell is going on?" The others were clearly rattled.

One, unwilling to relent, pulled out a scalpel. But as he lunged, Francis broke free from the bodyguards, dodging the attack.

"Kill him! I don't believe we can't finish him off!" another man shouted.

The agent and the girl in white, horrified, urged the bodyguards to act fast. "Hold him down, kill him now. Don't let him get away!"

"I won't let you—" the agent snarled.

She charged forward, but the broken needle found its way under her shoe and jabbed into her foot. She yelped, pulling back her foot.

A surgical scalpel on a nearby table fell, clattering to the ground. The girl in white rushed to catch it, but the blade sliced her wrist. Blood poured from the wound, staining her white dress. She screamed. The agent rushed to stop the bleeding. "Doctor, get her to stop the bleeding!" she shouted.

But she froze, realizing she had stepped on the discarded scalpel, which had pierced her shoe and embedded itself in her foot. She screamed, stumbling back onto the broken needle.

The villa erupted into chaos. A window crashed open; Odalys and Stellan leaped inside. Odalys threw Francis aside and kicked a bodyguard.

"Talk about arrogant," Stellan muttered, grabbing a chair and throwing it at another man in white. The villa was in complete disarray.

"Don't rush it, aim the camera," Selah shouted calmly but urgently.

Freya, nervously swallowing, held up her phone. "Got it, I'm aiming right at their faces." They were live-streaming everything, having tagged the police, who were already on their way.

Sirens wailed louder as police officers stormed the villa, tackling the bodyguards. The men in white coats panicked, realizing they had no escape.