?<strong>Chapter 701:</strong>


    Allison’s pulse quickened as her chin was held in ce, her gaze locked with his predatory re. His eyes weren’t just looking at her — they were dissecting her, peeling backyers of artifice with an intensity that sent shivers racing down her spine.


    “Yes… yes,” she stammered, her voice trembling as though weighed down by the heaviness of his scrutiny.


    She knew what he was looking for. Any flicker of a lie, any shimmer of deception — a glimmer of a hidden lens tucked in the depths of her eyes.


    Tilting her head slightly, she mustered a pitiable expression, her lips quivering with just the right touch of fear.


    “I thought you were asking about that incident earlier, which is why I lied. But I swear, I don’t know anything about assassins.”


    Their faces lingered close — too close — and their mingled breaths wove an invisible thread between them.


    From the outside, the tableau might have carried a hint of intimacy in these researchers’ eyes. After all, their boss never got close to women. Everyone knew that.


    However, the reality was as far from affection as one could imagine.


    g?lnσν????s is where magic happens


    Verruckt’s aura wasn’t one of romance; it was danger personified, a presence so heavy that it warped the air around him, leaving those nearby suffocated under its weight.


    The tension shattered as the security team, who had gone to check the surveince footage, returned, their footsteps echoing ominously. One stepped forward, his voice tentative. “Mr. Shaw, the footage confirms that Alice did enter the break room. However, due to the power outage, there’s no recording of her leaving. The footage surrounding the power failure wasn’t saved either.”


    Verruckt’s jaw tightened, his irritation rolling off him in palpable waves.


    “Recover the footage,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for debate.


    “Yes, sir.”


    Jareth, ever attuned to the tempest brewing within his boss, sensed the gathering storm. A vtile Verruckt was a dangerous Verruckt, and Jareth had no intention of bing coteral damage. He turned sharply to the surrounding researchers, his voice a whip-crack.


    “Did any of you see Alice using the microwave?”


    Allison, seizing her chance, let her gaze flit to the researchers with an imploring softness, the picture of innocence on the brink of tears.


    “Yes, I did. I turned it on while many of you were still here. Surely someone saw me.”


    The researchers exchanged nces, unease blooming like weeds. Her earlier remark in the break room — “Why do you keep staring at me? Do I have something on my face?” — surfaced in their minds, and in hindsight, she seemed less like an assassin and more like a pretty but clueless woman who’d stumbled into trouble.


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