Chapter 188

The live chat was buzzing with questions: "What's going on? Why did both horses suddenly go crazy? What's up with the show crew, letting the guests be put in such danger?" Other comments included: "See the difference? Love and not caring are worlds apart. The only coach and Mr. Bennett both went after Nina, not caring at all about Cynthia's safety." and "I'm literally crying. Preston went after Cynthia without a second thought."

After Ethan and Jessie realized what was happening, they rode out to follow. Unfortunately, they were poor riders, slow, and disoriented once they entered the forest. The drone, flying frantically, crashed into a tree trunk and was disabled. The live feed suddenly went dark. Jason anxiously paced in front of the monitor, unsure what had happened or why the horses had gone wild. He immediately dispatched a rescue team to the island.

Meanwhile, Abby calmly stroked her horse's mane.

In the forest, a black horse galloped wildly, its hooves thundering as it leaped, trying to throw its rider. Cynthia lowered her body, pressing herself against the horse's back. The coach had said all the horses were racers; if she fell at this speed, serious injury or death was highly likely. Despite this predicament, Cynthia remained calm, finding her rhythm and clinging tightly, hoping the horse would tire.

Jonathan, after initially pursuing Nina, quickly turned his horse and headed up a hill. This hill led towards the direction of Cynthia's runaway horse. He'd studied the island map and knew of a high slope in the forest; following it would provide a better view and a faster route to Cynthia.

Reaching the high slope, Jonathan first saw Preston, following the same path as Cynthia. However, the dense trees and undergrowth quickly obscured his view. Preston, lost in the forest, gritted his teeth, chose a direction at random, and continued his pursuit.

Stationed high above, Jonathan spotted Cynthia, but her horse was racing so fast that he only saw a fleeting shadow. Panic surged; he remembered the map showing a cliff in that direction.

Urging his horse onward, Jonathan raced towards the cliff, his heart pounding. He had no time to consider intent; he only focused on reaching Cynthia. He mentally calculated the distance, realizing with dread that reaching her in time was nearly impossible. The thought of the horse reaching the cliff and jumping sent a shudder through him. The mere thought made his heart feel like it was going to leap from his chest.

He felt as if the air was being sucked from his lungs, recalling a childhood incident where Whitney had pushed him into a pool, leaving him gasping for air—an icy closeness to death that had stayed with him. He'd later learned to dive, holding his breath for nine minutes, but now his body was tense and cold; even the fresh air felt suffocating.

He clung to a glimmer of hope: maybe Cynthia would jump off the horse at the last moment. But he knew that could also be life-threatening. Fear surged, overwhelming him.

Reaching the cliff's edge, Jonathan saw Cynthia unharmed, standing beside a calm horse being led by a man in a suit. Nearby, a stone table and wicker chairs sat, one occupied by a familiar figure.

The elegantly dressed woman, despite being nearly fifty, looked much younger, exuding composure while sipping tea. Unaffected by Jonathan's arrival, she remained calm.

Jonathan swiftly dismounted and ran to Cynthia, checking her for injuries. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

Cynthia's expression was complex as she shook her head. "No, I'm not hurt."

Jonathan breathed a sigh of relief, then turned a cold gaze towards the woman. "Whitney, it's been a while."

Whitney put down her antique porcelain cup, smiling. "It's been ages. The last time you returned to Betrico, you didn't even come home. Dad was really let down."

Though he already suspected, Jonathan asked, "Whitney, what are you doing here?"

Whitney remained composed. "This island is mine. I felt like coming over today. Just as the plane landed, I saw Ms. Jones' horse running wild, and my bodyguards rescued her."

Whitney always had two top-tier mercenaries—elite assassins trained by an international secret organization—as bodyguards. Jonathan didn't believe her coincidence story. They'd arrived yesterday, and Nina had almost been attacked; today, both Nina and Cynthia's horses had gone wild. Whitney was definitely involved. He hadn't expected the island to be hers, meaning they were completely at her mercy. She looked at Cynthia. "Ms. Jones, you haven't thanked me for saving your life yet."

Cynthia, realizing this wasn't an accident, knew Whitney was responsible. Her face almost expressionless, she replied, "Ms. Bennett, I can't repay your life-saving grace in this lifetime, so I guess I'll have to serve you in the next one." Whitney easily understood the implication.

Whitney smiled gracefully. "Ms. Jones, don't worry, there are ple—"

Cynthia knitted her brows, watching the wealthy and dignified woman when a shout interrupted the silence. "Mom!"