Chapter 22
The van's door slammed shut, and it sped away. No pedestrians were nearby, save for a security camera at the intersection that quietly recorded the event. After Felicia was forcibly taken into the van, a cloth was thrown over her face. She held her breath, avoiding the scent, and immediately feigned unconsciousness.
In the front seat, Lance noticed the security camera and urged the driver, "Drive faster! If the Fuller family comes looking, we're in big trouble!" The van raced out of Khogend City, finally slowing as they reached the outskirts. It was safe here. Even if the Fuller family realized Felicia was missing in time, it would be too late by the time they arrived. Once they felt safe, Lance grinned. "Got you now, you little brat!"
As he opened the door, he was stunned. Felicia sat upright, while the two thugs meant to restrain her lay on the ground, foam bubbling at their lips. Felicia smiled sweetly. "Looks like last time wasn't enough for you to learn your lesson."
The mention of the incident made Lance's head throb. The last time Felicia had smashed something over his head, it had required seventeen stitches! His expression darkened as he raised a hand. "Get her under control! I'm going to make her pay today!" With only three lackeys—two incapacitated and the driver—he was running out of options. "Let's take her together!" he shouted, and they lunged at Felicia simultaneously.
But she kicked the door closed with perfect timing, catching Lance halfway through the opening. The resounding thud of metal hitting flesh contorted his face in pain. The remaining lackey attempted a sneak attack. Felicia flicked her wrist, sending two silver needles flying. The man instinctively ducked, but the needles found their mark, striking his shoulder with pinpoint accuracy. His body stiffened, immobile.
Felicia stepped out of the van casually, noticing Lance's frustration. With a friendly kick, she said, "Did you learn your lesson?" Lance, stubborn, remained silent but discreetly grabbed a handful of dirt, preparing to throw it at her face. Felicia anticipated his move and kicked him again. He yelped, dropping the dirt.
Finally, he pleaded, "Ms. Fuller, it's nothing personal! Someone higher up wants you out of the way! Since I couldn't get the job done, can we just let this go?" Felicia sneered. If the positions were reversed, would they spare her? Of course not! A flicker of murderous intent ignited in her eyes.
Having been in the game for years, Lance sensed Felicia's genuine intent to kill him. Driven by a primal urge to survive, he began to back away, desperate to escape. At that moment, dust kicked up on the desolate road as two pickup trucks barreled toward them, pursued relentlessly by a third vehicle.
Felicia cursed under her breath. Before she could react, the two pickups surrounded her, several dark gun barrels aimed at her head. The assailants, wearing denim jackets and thick beards, one with a facial scar, were recognizable from news reports: a ruthless gang of international fugitives, with a million-dollar bounty on their heads.