Chapter 591

Caspian struggled as men bound his legs and pinned his arms. He thrashed, but his efforts were futile. Turning his head, he glared at Atlas, shouting, “Damn it, call the police!”

Atlas’s eyes widened in fear. “I tried! The call was rerouted. It’s useless—they control the lines.” His voice trembled.

Caspian’s heart sank. He turned to Elias, the question forming on his lips before he spoke. “Who the hell are you?” Their response was immediate and brutal, inflicting pain upon him.

Atlas stood frozen, horrified. Though he’d heard rumors, witnessing this depravity was shocking. He stumbled back, his legs trembling, attempting to flee. A scream from within the room jolted him. He tripped and fell, a warm trickle running down his leg; his terror was so profound he'd involuntarily urinated.

The men dragged Sophia into another room, pinning her down. Her hands clenched, her eyes blazing with defiance. A tearing sound shattered the tension. Sophia gasped, her body tense, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Fury surged as pain wracked her body. With a guttural scream, she lashed out, her fingers digging into the throat of the nearest man. He choked, eyes wide, hands clawing at hers. Blood poured from his neck, its metallic tang filling the room. Stunned, he stumbled back, clutching the wound, blood staining Sophia’s face.

“You…you…” he croaked before collapsing, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. Blood trickled from Sophia’s fingertips, yet she’d managed to slash his neck. Another man shouted in panicked alarm, "Someone's been killed! Someone's dead!"

The men, initially smug in their perceived superiority, had never encountered a woman like this. They'd heard she was stunning, a celebrity; their greed had been nearly overwhelming. But their smugness vanished at a bloodcurdling scream. Spinning around, they saw their companion bleeding out. Before they could react, Sophia lunged, her hands tearing through their chests. Blood splattered the walls as their lifeless bodies crumpled.

“Ghost! She’s a ghost!” one shrieked, scrambling to escape. He stumbled and fell. Sophia appeared behind him, her fingers trailing over his chest before drifting to his face. With a wicked grin, she whispered, “What are you afraid of? I’m not a ghost.”

The man trembled, wetting himself as she pressed her palm against his chest.

“Bang!” The door burst open.

Elias stood in the doorway, surveying the carnage. He saw Sophia—calm, yet chillingly composed—smiling. A scream escaped the man Sophia held. Elias's eyes widened as Sophia pressed her fingers into his chest. He collapsed, blood and organs spilling onto the floor. Elias, who thought he'd seen it all, froze.

Sophia turned to him, tilting her head. “I heard you’re planning to buy me for a posthumous marriage, right?” Her voice was sweet, almost playful, as she dressed calmly.

From the living room, Caspian and Atlas watched, stunned. Blood dripped from her hands; her expression was cold and indifferent. For the first time, they understood how truly dangerous she was.

“Don’t come any closer!” Elias stammered, his bravado replaced by trembling fear.

“Fine,” she replied, her voice silken. “I’ll keep my distance—if you transfer ten billion dollars into my account.” She brushed a finger over her lip, her gaze settling on Caspian.

His stomach churned. He glanced toward the room, his breath quickening. He felt unsafe near her.

“Ten billion dollars? You’re out of your mind!” Elias’s voice cracked with panic.

Sophia moved swiftly, her fingers clamping around his throat. Her nails dug in, eliciting a gasp. She pinned him to the couch, her weight pressing down. He stared wide-eyed as she forced him down, his mind blank, his gaze fixed on her face. Her deceptively sweet voice purred, “Be good—give me ten billion dollars.”

Before he could speak, pain shot through him as her fist connected, nearly knocking him out. She casually picked up a fruit knife, the blade hovering menacingly close, her expression as calm as if selecting fruit.

“Your choice,” she said softly. “A single slice, or should I take my time and carve it up?”

“Damn it!” Elias croaked, trembling. He swallowed a curse.

“Transfer it—ten billion dollars. Not a cent less,” Sophia said with a sweet smile. Her fingertips brushed his skin, leaving a trail of bleeding cuts. Her touch was unnervingly sharp. Within moments, Elias was drenched in blood, trembling so violently his hand could barely hold his phone. “I’ll transfer it! Just don’t kill me!” he pleaded.

“Didn’t your son die? Are you still planning that posthumous marriage?” Sophia asked in a low voice.

“I don’t have a son,” Elias said quickly.

Sophia raised an eyebrow, glancing at Caspian, who averted his gaze.

Sophia straightened, stepping off the couch with grace. The sound of a transfer confirmation chimed. She looked back at the trembling man. Her smile widened, almost kind. “Don’t be so scared. I’m not going to kill you,” she said sweetly. “As long as you keep working for me, that is.”

Sophia strode to the door, finding Caspian and Atlas frozen. “What are you waiting for? Want to stay here forever!” she barked.

They scrambled to their feet; Caspian rushed back to carry Henry out. They chose a car and drove off without looking back.

From a shadowed corner of the property, Orson’s voice broke the silence. “What the hell was that? What kind of hand does she have?” They'd arrived just in time to witness the tense negotiations. Before intervening, Odalys had remarked that the setup seemed off. She’d thought, Look at his face—he’s lying. This guy probably doesn’t even have a son.