Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon (Cordelia and Sanderson) novel Chapter 158

“Bang.” 

Chapter 158 

Cordelia’s boot connected with the security guard’s midsection, sending him sprawling to the ground as she barreled into the school premises. 

Hidden not far off, Skyler gulped nervously. He’d always thought Cordella was the dainty, helpless type. He was wrong. She was so strong. 

Fumbling with his phone, he dialed Everard, “Boss, Cordelia just stormed the gates.” 

Everard’s response was as chilled as a winter’s breeze, “Okay, just keep an eye on her. No casualties, please.” 

Skyler’s voice hitched in disbelief, “What? ‘No casualties‘? That’s your bar for concern?” 

“What I mean is, don’t let her cause any casualties.” 

It took a moment for Skyler to catch on. The boss was worried Cordelia might go full terminator on them. 

He smirked wryly, “Got it.” 

Everard instructed, “Let her stir the pot a bit before you wrap up your end, and make it snappy.” 

“Boss, don’t rush me.” Skyler retorted, fingers dancing across his laptop keyboard, “A true man takes at least an hour.” 

As Skyler bantered, Cordelia had already penetrated the heart of the campus. 

A guard bellowed, “Who the heck are you? We’ve got an intruder.” 

His shout summoned a squad of security guards, who, upon seeing a slender girl as the culprit, chuckled among themselves, “Can’t handle a little girl?” 

The guard she’d floored was quick to caution, “Don’t take her lightly – she packs a punch.” 

The guards advanced, one of them taunting, “Sweetheart, leave now and we might let you off easy.” 

Cordelia’s only reply was a steely, “Where’s Merry?” 

They exchanged puzzled glances, “What?” 

“I’m here for Merry.” 

The guards shared a collective smirk, “Got a screw loose? Restrain her.” 

As they lunged, Cordelia unleashed a flurry of military combative, two guards sent flying, and another two pinned to the ground. 

She towered over the subdued guard, repeating, “Where’s Merry?” 

He squeaked, “The students are all in the backyard.” 

Releasing him, Cordelia watched as he scrambled up, only to receive a swift kick that sent him sprawling once 

more. 

“Lead the way,” she commanded, and the guard, trembling, complied. 

They rounded a building and entered the backyard, where rows of dunk tanks stood before them. 

Merry felt ready to accept her fate. 

Each gasp for air was more difficult than the last. Now, the sensation was almost familiar. “Splash.” 

Her head was yanked up again. Waterlogged ears rang as her teacher’s voice boomed, distant yet all too near “Can’t even memorize a simple passage? What good are you? A waste of space. People like you don’t deserve to live.” 

As her hair was once again gripped, and her head forced toward the water, Merry widened her eyes in a mix of helplessness and despair. 

Maybe it would be easier to just die. 

The thought haunted her. She felt unworthy of life. What was left for her to hope for? 

Friendless, family–less, uncared for… 

These thoughts eroded her will to fight, surrender to the water, and never breathe again. 

But then, a voice pierced through, “Merry.” 

She blinked, dismissing it as an illusion. Why else would she hear Lia’s voice? 

But the calls grew clearer, “Merry? Little Parrot?” 

Lia’s voice, crystalline and familiar, spurred Merry to lift her head just in time to see that cool, composed figure break through the chaos. 

Like a drowning soul clutching at a lifeline, Merry’s lips trembled, “Lia…” 

As Cordelia entered the backyard, her eyes widened at the sight of the dunk tanks. 

She saw that some teachers even grabbed the students‘ heads and pressed them into the tank. The students struggled, but it was no use at all, because those teachers were very strong, and each one of them seemed to be practiced, and these students were no match for them at all. 

This kind of behavior made her eyes widen. 

Even though she had grown up in an orphanage, she had never seen anything like this before. 

Then, amidst the clamor, she heard a faint, “Lia…” 

Following the sound, she found Merry, once vibrant and now soaked and subdued, her eyes filled with a desolate plea. 

To Cordelia, the sight was shocking, but seeing Merry in distress ignited anger within her. 

She charged forward, wrenching the teacher’s hand from Merry’s hair, and steadied her friend, “Little Parrot?” 

Tears streamed down Merry’s cheeks as she choked out, “Lia…” 

Cordelia gripped Merry’s arm, tucking her drenched hair behind her ears to reveal a pale, desperate face, and declared, “Merry, I’m taking you home.” 

Those words, “I’m taking you home,” unleashed Merry’s pent–up sobs.