Chapter 616 Lost Contact
Outside, lightning flashed and thunder roared as a torrential downpour began.
Emma slowly slid to the floor, burying her face in her knees. She didn't cry, but her shoulders trembled slightly, like a fledgling bird drenched by the rain.
Three days and nights.
Emma neither ate, drank, nor slept, just curled up by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the storm ravage the rose garden into a mess.
On the fourth morning, Wanda kicked open the door, followed by a maid carrying a tray.
"Stop pretending to be a saint," she snarled, yanking Emma's hair. "Eat!"
The porcelain bowl crashed onto the carpet, hot soup splashing at their feet. Emma glanced at her blankly, then turned back to the window.
"Fine, very fine," Wanda said with a bitter laugh. "Looks like I need to show you something good."
She pulled out a tablet and swiped to a breaking news alert.
"Breaking News! Sunterra Flight to Lakeside Haven Missing, Suspected Crash in the Atlantic"
Emma's pupils contracted sharply.
The flight number stung her eyes... it was the one George was on.
"No way." She snatched the tablet, her fingers trembling as she zoomed in on the photo. In the blurry surveillance image, George's profile was clearly visible as he boarded the plane.
Wanda savored her look of despair, adding slowly, "Just got the news, the rescue team has found the wreckage." She leaned in, her red lips spitting venom, "George, missing. Lost in the Atlantic."
The world went silent.
Emma felt something being violently torn from her body, leaving a gaping hole in her chest, the howling wind freezing her insides.
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Her fingers suddenly touched the cold metal of the overturned dinner knife.
Wanda, still reveling in her revenge, was caught off guard as Emma tackled her to the ground!
"Are you satisfied?" Emma's voice was ghostly soft, but the knife was steady against Wanda's carotid artery. "Now, it's your turn to pay."
Wanda's pupils shrank; she could feel the cold blade already cutting her skin, warm blood trickling down her neck.
"Emma! Are you crazy?" Her voice trembled, all arrogance gone.
"Crazy?" Emma laughed coldly, pressing harder. "Yes, I'm crazy." She leaned in, whispering in Wanda's ear, "Now, call Michael."
"Not a chance."
"You can try." Emma pressed the knife deeper, blood beads rolling down. "See if your stubbornness is stronger than my knife."
Wanda finally panicked, trembling as she fumbled for her phone, dialing Michael's private number.
In the mansion's surveillance room, Michael stared at the screen, his eyes dark.
On the screen, Emma pinned Wanda down, the knife at her throat, her once gentle eyes now filled with madness and hatred.
"Mr. Russell, should we send someone?" the assistant asked quietly.
Michael was silent for a moment, then slowly stood up. "No, I'll go myself."
The door was pushed open, and Michael's figure appeared in the doorway.
He was still impeccably dressed, his face stern, as if everything was under his control.
"Emma," he said, his voice low, "let her go."
Emma looked up, her eyes cold. "You finally decided to show up?"
Michael walked closer, his gaze falling on her blood-stained hand. "You'd kill just to see me?"
"Kill?" Emma laughed, a harsh sound. "Michael, your hands are far bloodier than mine!"
"You killed George," she said, enunciating each word. "And you killed Seraphine."
Michael didn't deny it, just looked at her quietly. "Emma, some things aren't what you think."
"Then what are they?" Emma stood up abruptly, the knife still at Wanda's throat. "Tell me, was George's plane crash your doing?"
Michael was silent.
His silence was the answer.
Emma's heart turned completely cold.
"You really are a devil."
Michael looked at her, his eyes complex. "Emma, come back." He extended his hand. "I can give you everything, as long as you stay with me."
"Stay with me," he said softly, but it was like a knife, stabbing into Emma's heart.
She laughed, a bitter laugh. "Michael, do you think I would still believe you?"
She shoved Wanda away, the knife now pointing at Michael. "From today on, it's you and me, to the death."
Wanda fell to the ground, clutching her bleeding neck, staring at them in terror.
Michael didn't spare her a glance, just said coldly, "Get out."
Wanda shuddered, scrambling out of the room.
Only when the door closed did she dare to stop, leaning against the wall, gasping for breath.
Wanda finally understood that in Michael's eyes, she was always just a pawn, a tool.
In the room, Emma and Michael faced off.
"Emma, you can't escape," Michael said calmly. "This estate, inside and out, is full of my people."
Emma sneered. "Then try to stop a dead person."
She suddenly turned and ran towards the balcony.
Michael's face changed. "Stop her!"
The bodyguards rushed forward, but Emma had already leaped!
From the second floor, she landed in the garden's bushes, ignoring the pain, and ran towards the estate's exit.
Behind her, Michael's furious shout echoed, "Emma!"
But she didn't look back, disappearing into the night.
Cold rain pelted her face, indistinguishable from tears.
Her heart was already dead, leaving only hatred.
"Michael," she clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, "I will make you pay in blood."
Emma stood in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone, but she felt no cold.
In her hand, she clutched a rain-soaked note, the writing blurred, but the address burned into her mind.
"If you want to see George one last time, come to Lakeside Haven Police Station."
The note had been handed to her half an hour ago by a masked woman. The woman had hurriedly said, "A Miss asked me to give this to you," before disappearing into the rain.
Emma shouldn't have trusted such a dubious message, but she had no other options.
Since seeing the news of the plane crash, she had searched every hospital, morgue, and even contacted the airline, but she couldn't find George's body.
Neither alive nor dead.
It was too suspicious.
And now, this mysterious note was her only lead.
Rain dripped from Emma's hair, spreading dark patches on the police station's polished floor. Her fingers were white from gripping the officer's uniform.
"Where is George's body?" Her voice was like a demon's from hell, hoarse and terrifying. "Where did you hide him?"
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