Chapter 604
Zeke caught the blade just in time. Pain ripped through his palm as the steel sliced into his skin, blood pouring down his fingers.
The two men strained against each other in a deadlock. At the critical moment, Zeke suddenly barked, “Chief, why are you here?”
The assassin instinctively turned his head. It was only a two–second distraction, but that was all Zeke needed. He wrenched the man’s wrist sharply and drove the dagger deep into his chest.
The blade slid in with a sickening sound, blood spurting hot and fast.
Zeke kicked him backward, but the killer yanked the knife free and tried to lunge again. Zeke slipped behind him, locked an arm around his neck, and with one brutal twist, snapped it.
The body crumpled lifelessly, blood still streaming from his chest wound.
Breath ragged, Zeke collapsed into a chair. His palm throbbed, dripping crimson, trembling with pain. His gaze stayed fixed on the corpse, grim and heavy.
Shadow Moon Pavilion. Their assassins were everywhere now, infiltrating the States. No one knew how many or when they would strike. He was exposed. They were in the shadows. The only answer was to tighten defenses.
But how did one defend against the invisible?
The persistence of the attacks made one thing clear–Zorro would not stop until Zeke was dead.
With steady hands, Zeke bound his palm with a handkerchief. He pulled the mask from the assassin’s face, confirming what he already suspected. A Shadow Moon Pavilion killer. He knew this one.
Zeke dialed his men, voice low. “Clean this up. Take photos and send them to Zorro. Let him see it.”
“Yes, sir.”
It would be as if this killer had never existed, like all the others before.
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Outside, the rain poured on, wrapping Cloudtop Resort in mist and silence.
But a few kilometers away, inside a deep pit, the Smith family and Sydney were living a nightmare.
“Dad, what do we do? No one’s coming! And it’s still raining!”
“The rain’s getting heavier! Are we going to drown down here?”
Soaked, freezing, reeking of filth, they huddled together. They had fallen into a forgotten cesspit. And now rainwater swelled it higher and higher.
They had tried sheltering in the car, but the pit water had risen to half the doors, threatening to submerge them alive. So they clambered to the roof, shivering through the night, praying somehow they’d survive until morning.
At last the storm broke. Sunlight cut through the clouds.
Wendy stirred awake in Benjamin’s arms, only to find his fiery eyes locked on her. Startled, she bolted upright.
Though she had agreed to be with him, the line hadn’t been crossed. Benjamin had promised he’d wait until she gave her heart freely. But that didn’t stop him from claiming every kiss and touch he could steal.
He pulled her back and kissed her again.
“Why are you running? You don’t like it when I kiss you?”
How could she not? She only feared she was falling too fast. What she didn’t realize was that Benjamin had already fallen faster, deeper.
He wanted nothing more than to lie with her, kiss her for twenty–four hours straight, never letting go.
“Enough, Benjamin. We need to get up.”
She cupped his head to stop him. His gaze lingered, hungry, like he could devour her whole. Finally, he stole one last kiss before letting her go.
19:08 Mon, Sep 8
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“My sweet Pudding. So obedient.”
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After changing into the clothes he had picked for her, they shared breakfast in the suite before Benjamin tugged her downstairs, saying he had something fun to
show her.
In the garden, the others had gathered, buzzing with curiosity. Word was, something strange had happened outside the resort.
Felix’s instincts as a cop prickled. “I’m going to check it out,” he told his wife before heading off.
Benjamin arrived with several sightseeing carts. “Let’s go take a look.”
Caitlin and Sebastian brought the children along as everyone piled on. The carts rolled out through the resort gates.
Just beyond, fire trucks and a crowd of reporters swarmed the roadside.
The carts stopped. Guests stepped out to peer down a slope where a rescue operation was underway. Felix was already on–site. Cameras flashed wildly as reporters streamed live.
Apparently, four people had been trapped in a disused cesspit overnight. The storm had nearly drowned them.
One by one, the fire crews hauled them out. But after hours soaking in filth, their bodies were coated in sludge, foul and unrecognizable.
The stench hit like a wall.
“Oh God, the smell!”
“This is revolting!”
Reporters gagged, retreating as the victims collapsed on the ground, too weak to
even rise.
Landon and Wanda sprawled face–first in the mud, exhausted. Tonya and Sydney lay beside them, crying too hard to breathe.
Hoses sprayed them down, rinsing off the filth until their faces showed.
:
“Wait a minute… isn’t that Mr. Smith?” a reporter blurted.
Recognition spread. Murmurs surged.
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Up on the road, Caitlin put the pieces together. The victims… were the very ones who had won the “grand prize” last night. Her eyes cut to Benjamin.
His face was calm, unreadable, as though none of it touched him.
“That woman–wasn’t she number nineteen last night?” Jillian gasped. “The one who won the luxury car?”
“That’s right! She was also the one who fell at Benjamin’s feet at the start! You’re telling me they drove their prize car and ended up in a cesspit?”
The crowd buzzed louder, the irony too sharp to miss.
Wendy froze. She recognized them too–her father’s family. Her stomach turned as horror dawned.
She looked at Benjamin, her voice trembling.
“Was this your doing?”