Chapter 1476

Cory’s face was clouded with disdain. “Obviously, I’m taking a picture of my lovely ex-boss. Aubree made me who I am today. How can I possibly forgive her so easily?”

An ominous aura radiated from him, a chilling presence born of sheer hatred for Aubree. Frieda shuddered.

“Have you gone insane? The Pearson family is already in ruins. How are you still not satisfied?”

Cory snickered. “I won’t be satisfied until she gets what she deserves. Besides, she did this to herself!” He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing those before him. “You don’t have to pretend around me, Ms. Queen. Don’t you want to silence her for good, too? You’re probably still threatened by her, right?”

Frieda’s eyelids quivered as she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her attempt at deception faltered, a moment too long for Cory to miss.

He scoffed. “You have no idea what I’ve been through these past few days. Aubree’s my target, so don’t get in my way. Otherwise, I’ll drag you down with me. I only have one life left, and if anyone angers me, they’ll pay.”

A chill ran down Frieda’s spine, leaving her speechless. Cory glared at her, pocketed his phone, and walked out of the bar.

Watching him go, she sensed something was wrong. She noticed his limp; his leg was injured. Her brother’s words echoed in her mind: Cory had been captured at the casino. She knew the ruthlessness of those people, and couldn't imagine the torture he’d endured. His escape, however, remained a mystery.

No wonder he hated Aubree so much. The sight of him, a man in his prime reduced to this state, was shocking and terrifying. They had all been in the same boat once. Aubree and Cory's fall from grace left Frieda wondering if she would be next.

“No! I can’t become like them!”

Frieda grabbed her bag and hurried out of the bar, determined to devise a plan to eliminate Aubree.

Outside, Cory limped with difficulty into a small alley, drenched in sweat. His capture by the casino workers had nearly cost him his life; his escape was sheer luck and desperation. His leg would never fully recover, making even short distances exhausting. He needed a rest.

He pulled out his phone and stared at Aubree’s picture, an evil glint in his eyes. If not for her, he wouldn’t be in this ghastly state. He would ensure she paid. He would drag her down to hell with him.

He typed a message; a “Message sent” notification appeared. He snorted triumphantly, pocketed his phone, and limped deeper into the darkness.