Chapter 144: All In

The knife sliced through the air, heading straight for Vivienne. "Move!" Steve's expression hardened, his pupils constricting with alarm.

Vivienne reacted instantly. As the thin man lunged, she effortlessly dodged, seizing his wrist and wrenching it back with brutal force. He yelped as the knife fell to the ground. With a sharp kick, she sent the blade sliding toward Steve. Then, pivoting smoothly, she slammed her elbow into the man's ribs, yanked his arm behind his back, and flipped him over her shoulder.

He crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust with a sickening thud, his body curling in agony. If Steve hadn't been sawing through his restraints, he might have applauded.

Seeing his partner fall, the burly man's face contorted with rage. "You little—" With a bellow, he charged at Vivienne, arms spread wide like an enraged bull.

Steve flung the knife to Vivienne. "Heads up!" She caught it effortlessly, the blade gleaming in her grip. As the brute barreled forward, she pressed the cold steel against his thick neck. A slow, taunting smile curled her lips—the look of a cat toying with a trapped mouse. "I wouldn't take another step if I were you."

From the ground, the thin man groaned, glaring up at her. "Who the hell are you?"

Vivienne ignored him, driving her heel into his chest to pin him down. Her eyes, sharp and unreadable, flicked over him. "Take me to your handler."

Brevard's operation had a signature method: recruiting low-level thugs from across the country, constantly rotating them to sell products. No one ever dealt twice in the same place. Each seller had a handler, but only the trusted few ever got close to Brevard himself. To track down Brevard, Vivienne and her team had to follow the trail through these two men's handlers.

A flicker of calculation crossed the thin man's face. "If I take you to them, do I walk free?"

"That depends on how useful you are," Vivienne replied coolly.

Five minutes later, both men were bound and marched from the abandoned building.

"Freeze!" The sharp command was followed by the thunder of approaching footsteps. A unit of armed officers surrounded them, weapons raised. "Hands on your heads! Get down—now!"

Vivienne's brow twitched in irritation. She glanced at Steve, who was lazily running his fingers through his hair. "Tell me you didn't call them."

Steve snorted. "You think I'd do something that stupid?"

"Then who did?" Vivienne muttered, exasperated.

Neither had an answer, but it didn't matter; within minutes, they were all in custody.

Once at the station, Vivienne and the others surrendered their belongings before being escorted to interrogation. Meanwhile, at the far end of the corridor, a group of officers emerged. A uniformed captain strode forward, occasionally glancing at the man beside him in a suit. "Milo, thanks for the tip. We'll conduct a full investigation and ensure these criminals are dealt with properly."

Earlier that morning, the Brighton Group's CEO had been ambushed. His car was wrecked, and a menacing letter left at the scene. Though the Brighton Group wasn't as dominant as Sinclair Group, its influence in Lyhaton was undeniable.

But Milo wasn't listening to the captain. His attention was fixed on one of the interrogation rooms, his expression unreadable. "Who's in there? What charges?"