Chapter 1275:
Panic spread through the mercenaries like wildfire. Without hesitation, they opened fire, bullets whizzing toward Allison.
No one had expected her to be this dangerous. The scene exploded into chaos.
Seizing the briefest opening, Allison bolted, slipping through the frenzy and into the stairwell.
Leaning heavily against the cold concrete wall, she fought to steady her ragged breath. Sweat slicked her skin, mixing with the warm blood gushing from her abdomen.
âDamn it.â
The earlier gunfight had left her with a wound she couldnât afford, but she had pushed through the pain just to get this far.
If her guess was right, the trail of blood she was leaving behind would guide her pursuers straight to her.
âHurry! She has to be here somewhere!â
The voices were getting closer. Grinding her teeth, she clenched her trembling fingers into a fist and tore a strip of cloth from her shirt. With shaky hands, she wrapped the makeshift bandage around her wound.
She knew that this was only a temporary solution. Her movements had already slowed, so it was only a matter of time before she was discovered.
She never thought that it would end like this.
Thud. Footsteps echoed in the distance â sharp, deliberate.
Pressing a hand against the wound, she fought to stay conscious, but the darkness was creeping in at the edges of her vision. Then, just as suddenly, the footsteps outside stopped.
Her instincts screamed at her to move, to run, to fight â but her limbs felt like lead.
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Something was happening outside. She could hear it.
A deep, raspy voice thundered through the chaos. âNo one lays a finger on her. Except me.â
The sound sent a jolt through Allisonâs fading consciousness. It was familiar â too familiar. Her fingers twitched, instinctively seeking the dagger at her side.
But the blood loss was catching up to her fast. Her vision was slipping, distorting the world around her. She couldnât even piece together who that voice belonged to.
Somewhere beyond the haze, the fight raged on. Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire shattered the air, then â silence.
Then, the door to the stairwell was pushed open with a creak.
Someone stepped inside.
A shadow stretched toward her, and through the blur of her vision, she could make out a pair of polished leather shoes stepping into the dimly lit space.
The footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, each one pounding in her ears like a death knell, cold and unyielding.
Her instinct told her to run.
.
.
.