Chapter 716 A Loaded Gun
Yunice kept walking.
Then, without warning, she froze and glanced back under the moonlight. No one was there.
But she had clearly heard grass crunch under someone’s step.
Her guard went up. One hand gripped the iron rod, the other slipped inside her bag.
Nothing happened, all the way to the mouth of a cave.
Moonlight pooled at the entrance, the darkness inside yawning wide like it could swallow her whole.
If she went in and someone blocked the exit behind her…
She went in anyway.
With the flashlight she’d picked up earlier, the narrow passageway glowed faintly ahead.
Silence.
Only the echo of her own footsteps.
If someone was inside, they would hear her approach.
Yet no one rushed out.
At the end of the tunnel, her beam landed on a human silhouette.
Yunice swung the iron rod with all her strength.
It cut the air toward the figure’s head—
But before it struck, a strong hand shot out and seized her wrist with unnerving precision.
The flashlight clattered to the ground, shadows of two tense figures stretching long across the stone wall.
The smaller figure–Yunice–drew a gun in her free hand and pressed it against the other’s head.
“Wyatt. You’ve gone too far.” Her voice was cold, impatient.
From deeper in the cave came movement. Jordan stepped into the light, awkward at the scene before him–Wyatt gripping Yunice’s wrist, her gun aimed squarely at his head.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Jordan said quickly. “Wyatt really was attacked, it’s just-”
A scare more than real danger.
It had been Jordan following Yunice the whole way.
Yunice’s gaze flicked to the side, catching sight of two bound figures tied up like sacks and dumped in a corner. Paul and Nora.
Not the vicious battlefield she’d imagined. No blades, no snarling kidnappers. Just another trap of Wyatt’s.
Wyatt ignored the gun at his temple. With his free hand, he pried the iron rod from her grip, brushing rust from her palm with a light tap of his fingers.
“Half a month away, clearing your head. Had enough fun yet?” His eyes lifted to hers.
Yunice bristled. “Do you think this is a microphone in my hand? You really think I won’t shoot?”
Unbothered, Wyatt turned slightly. “Paul and Nora are mine now. Doesn’t that count for something? No more reason to be angry?”
But this wasn’t about anger.
Jordan hurried to switch on a lamp, bathing the cavern in harsh light. “Ma’am, it’s really them—Paul and Nora. No mistake.”
Yunice didn’t even glance their way. Her eyes stayed locked on Wyatt.
His dark gaze shone with amusement, reflecting her furrowed brow, her scowl.
The angled light drew sharp lines along his jaw, catching on the faint curl of a smile at his lips.
His thumb brushed slowly over the inside of her wrist, right against her pulse. A rough touch, like a spark of current searing straight through her skin.
“So worried about me?” he murmured, voice low, warm, threaded with laughter.
His eyes curved, glowing with the pleasure of it.
“These two fools thought they could use you as bait. Nora disguised herself as you to lure me up the mountain, Paul waiting to strike. Look-” He lifted his arm, showing a long cut.
The tear had split his suit sleeve wide, twenty centimeters or more, dark fabric and white shirt beneath soaked black–red with blood.
Yunice’s breath hitched, her expression sharp with disbelief.
What, was he trying to play the tragic hero?
“I didn’t think you’d come so soon,” he went on. “Otherwise, they might’ve starved to death here waiting.”
Her frown deepened. He had intended to wait it out, injured, until she arrived?
How could he be so certain she’d come? What if she hadn’t watched the news, hadn’t cared about the turmoil back home?
They’d be playing funeral music for him by now.
“Wyatt, you lied to me.” She tried to turn the accusation back on him.
“You lied first,” he countered, gaze steady. “You said you wouldn’t sneak away.”
“I never said that,” she snapped.
“…Didn’t you?” His eyes dropped to the gun still aimed at his head. “Are you going to shoot? If not, put it down. Doesn’t your wrist ache, holding it up this long?”