?<strong>Chapter 975:</strong>


    “If any of you make a move,” she said coldly, “he dies first. Then it’ll be your turn.”


    Her icy gaze swept over the group, her voice sharp and unforgiving.


    “I’ll ask onest time — where is Amya?”


    Not long ago, Allison had taken a few lives, and the lingering edge of that moment clung to her. Beside her, Ken, too, radiated an overwhelming air of menace that made the men hesitate.


    Side by side, they stood like embodiments of light and shadow, their presence chilling andmanding.


    “Don’t… don’t shoot!” the man with butterfly tattoos stammered, his whole body shaking with fear.


    Men like him were used to simple tasks—running errands, guarding doors, nothing more. He had never imagined facing people as ruthless as Allison and Ken.


    “She’s been taken to a cruise ship!” he blurted out. “In a few days, they’ll sell her in international waters!”


    The man knew, without a doubt, that these two had spilled blood before. The faint, lingering scent of death around them made it clear. He believed that, to them, killing him would be nothing more than a fleeting decision.


    “Which cruise ship?” Allison pressed, her tone sharp and unyielding.


    “I swear, I don’t know!” he replied, his voice cracking. “I’m just a delivery guy… that’s all I do!”


    Ga lno vel s . takes you into new worlds


    “When you treat other people’s lives like they’re worthless, aren’t you worried you’ll meet your end in international waters someday?” Allison demanded, her voice dripping with disdain.


    Without waiting for an answer, she kicked him hard, sending him sprawling onto the ground.


    The man’s back hit a pile of broken stic chair pieces, and he let out a groan of pain, his face twisted in agony. The others stood frozen, too scared to make a move.


    Allison’s gun remained steady, ready to end them with a single pull of the trigger.


    Meanwhile, Ken stepped aside and made a call.


    “There’s a courtyard near the deserted ind,” he said calmly. “Bring a team to clean it up.”


    “Yes, sir,” came the swift reply on the other end.


    Not long after Ken ended the call, a group of men dressed in ck arrived. They moved with precision, quickly restraining the man with butterfly tattoos and hispanions, tying them up without resistance.


    “Mr. Lloyd, what should we do with them?” one of the men in ck asked.


    “Throw them into the sea,” Ken replied, his voice cold and unyielding.


    The chilling finality in his tone sent a wave of terror through the group. Their faces turned ashen, and they dropped to their knees, pleading desperately.


    “Please, no! We were wrong! We’ll never do it again!” they cried, their voices trembling.


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