Chapter 569 Kill Her
At midnight, Wanda was led blindfolded into a dimly lit basement. Her high heels clicked sharply on the damp concrete floor, and the ropes around her wrists had left deep red marks.
"Mr. Russell, is that you?" Her voice trembled noticeably. "I can explain."
Her answer was a loud slap. Wanda fell to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. The blindfold was yanked off roughly, and the harsh glare of a fluorescent light made her squint.
Michael sat on a leather sofa nine feet away, twirling a scalpel between his long fingers. He was unusually dressed in a black suit, with a loosely tied necktie, exuding a dangerous aura.
"Explain?" He chuckled coldly, his voice like ice. "I told you to get close to George, not to touch Emma."
Wanda struggled to kneel. "It was Phoenix! She pushed me into it! She said if we ruined Emma, George would..."
The scalpel flew past her cheek, embedding deeply into the wall behind her. Wanda screamed, a thin line of blood appearing on her face.
Michael stood up slowly, each step echoing in her chest. He crouched down, gripping Wanda's chin and forcing her to look up.
"Did I ever tell you," his thumb pressed hard on the wound on her face, watching her expression contort in pain with satisfaction, "that Emma is my limit?"
Tears mixed with blood streamed down Wanda's face. "I was wrong, I really know I was wrong."
Michael snapped his fingers, and two men in black immediately wheeled in a strange machine. It was connected to dozens of hair-thin silver needles, glinting coldly under the light.
"Do you know what this is?" Michael caressed the machine gently. "A newly developed neural stimulator. It won't leave any external injuries, but it can amplify pain tenfold."
Wanda shook her head in terror, desperately trying to back away. "No, please, I beg you."
Michael had already put on medical gloves, adjusting the machine methodically. "Don't worry, I'll control the dosage." He leaned in close to her ear, whispering, "Just enough to make you wish you were dead, but not quite."
When the first needle pierced her fingertip, Wanda let out a heart-wrenching scream. Her body convulsed violently, like a fish thrown onto dry land.
Three hours later, when Michael finally stopped, Wanda lay on the ground, barely alive, in a mess. Her makeup was ruined, her expensive dress soaked with cold sweat, looking as if she had been pulled from the water.
"Now," Michael wiped his hands with a wet wipe, "tell me Phoenix's plan, word for word."
Barely able to speak, Wanda confessed, "She had plastic surgery too, she's now a nurse at a psychiatric clinic, my assistant. We used Maeve..."
Michael's eyes grew darker as he listened. He grabbed Wanda's hair, forcing her to look at him, but said nothing.
Wanda's pupils dilated in fear. She knew Michael's methods too well. Michael, who appeared gentle and refined, was actually ruthless. A former subordinate who betrayed him ended up as a permanent resident of a mental institution.
"I want to make amends," Wanda said, trembling.
Michael suddenly smiled, a smile that sent chills down Wanda's spine. "Alright. I'll give you one last chance." He pulled out a syringe. "This contains a new neurotoxin, which will take effect in 72 hours. Find Phoenix and inject her with it. Otherwise..." He lightly patted Wanda's pale face. "You know the consequences."
When Wanda was dumped by the roadside in the suburbs, dawn was breaking. She dragged her battered body and dialed an encrypted number.
"Kieran, save me!" she cried into the phone.
There was a moment of silence before Kieran's deep laughter came through. "Well, well. Looks like Mr. Russell is more trouble than we thought." He paused. "Phoenix is way more useful than you."
Hanging up, Wanda looked at the rising sun, feeling utterly hopeless for the first time. She was now caught between a rock and a hard place. Michael had given her a death sentence, and Kieran had discarded her. Her only way out was to find Phoenix as soon as possible.
Wanda dragged her injured body back to her apartment. She stood under the shower, letting the cold water wash away the blood and humiliation. The reflection in the mirror showed a pale Wanda, with a long, thin scar on her right cheek, standing out starkly.
"Phoenix," Wanda muttered through gritted teeth, her fingers unconsciously reaching for the small safe hidden under the sink.
Inside lay an encrypted phone and a small handgun. Wanda assembled the gun skillfully, a fierce glint in her eyes. "If you all want me dead, don't blame me for taking you down with me."
Three days later, at the most exclusive Cloud Private Club in Sunrise City, a charity gala was in full swing. Wanda, abandoning her usual flamboyant style, wore a low-key dark green gown, a wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses, sitting quietly in a corner.
Her eyes were fixed on the entrance. At exactly nine o'clock, a young woman in a white dress and pearl necklace gracefully entered the hall. The woman, with her delicate features and deliberately elegant demeanor, was none other than the transformed Phoenix.
"The fish has taken the bait," Wanda smirked, sending a message to her hidden accomplice.
Phoenix seemed to sense something, suddenly stopping to look around. Just as she was about to turn and leave, a waiter accidentally spilled red wine on her dress.
"I'm so sorry! I'll take you to the changing room right away!" the waiter apologized repeatedly.
Phoenix frowned but, to avoid drawing attention, followed the waiter to the VIP changing room on the second floor. As she opened the door, she immediately sensed something was wrong. The room was filled with a faint smell of anesthetic.
But it was too late. The door locked behind her, and Wanda emerged from behind the curtains, a silenced handgun aimed at Phoenix's forehead.
"Long time no see, 'Ms. Lewis," Wanda's voice was sickeningly sweet.
Phoenix tried to stay calm. "Anna, what are you doing? Aren't we partners?"
"Partners?" Wanda sneered. "When you suggested to Kieran that I be the scapegoat, did you think we were partners?"
She roughly tore off Phoenix's pearl necklace, revealing a barely visible scar on her neck, a remnant of her plastic surgery.
"Did you think changing your face would fool everyone?" Wanda tapped Phoenix's cheek with the gun barrel. "Let me tell you, Michael and George already know you're Phoenix! If I die, you won't live either!"
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