Chapter 1162: Chapter 1162

Chapter 1162:

“‘She would,’” he said, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his face.

If Allison were here, Kellan thought grimly, she’d be even more ruthless than he was. She’d orchestrate her vengeance with cold precision.

This thought struck him like a lightning bolt. His gaze drifted beyond the crowd, his expression blank.

“‘Allison…’”

This momentary distraction gave Melany the opportunity to break free.

“‘Ugh… cough, cough,’” she staggered back, clutching her throat. Words failed her, the searing pain in her neck leaving her breathless.

That damn Kellan! What was wrong with him?

How had he seen through her so easily, even when she’d melted into the crowd, her voice hushed to a whisper?

But so what?

That wretched Allison was doomed, no matter what happened.

Melany began, her tone carrying the faintest trace of triumph, “‘Mr. Lloyd, I understand your frustration, but if Ms. Clarke truly is inside, maybe you should—’”

Her words trailed off abruptly. She sensed something amiss.

Following Kellan’s gaze, she saw the crowd parting like a curtain, and Allison emerged, walking toward them with an air of quiet authority.

“‘Miss Johnson,’” Allison’s voice was calm, yet razor-sharp, “‘why are you so sure the person inside was me?’”

Her eyes gleamed like polished steel, their sharpness making Melany flinch involuntarily.

All heads turned toward Allison as she approached, her every step deliberate and unhurried.

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Sherman trailed respectfully behind her, his posture slightly stiff.

“‘Mr. Lloyd,’” Sherman said hesitantly, “‘we’ve found Ms. Clarke.’” His voice betrayed a touch of embarrassment. He’d searched high and low, only for her to appear as though summoned from the shadows. Allison, however, merely patted him on the shoulder, a gesture that made Sherman feel as though she were silently plotting something.

Kellan didn’t hesitate. He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, as though anchoring himself to reality.

“‘I knew it wasn’t you in there,’” he said, his voice tinged with relief. His turbulent heart finally began to settle. “‘Allison, did something happen earlier?’”

When Kellan watched Allison stride toward him with such composed assurance, a realization dawned on him like a bolt of lightning cutting through the dark. The events of the night had been meticulously orchestrated — a carefully laid snare, with Allison herself as the bait. There was no other explanation. Her flawless timing, her poised demeanor — it all pointed to a premeditated plan.

Allison’s smile was faint but telling. It was the smile of someone who had orchestrated every detail, a predator savoring the moment before striking its prey.

“‘Don’t worry, I’m fine,’” she said, squeezing his hand gently.

Then, she turned her attention to Melany.

Melany stood frozen, her face a canvas of shock. She hadn’t even managed to hide the finger marks branding her neck.

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