Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 388

"Did you get a good look? Are they really heading our way?"

A rough-looking crew of men huddled in a cramped cabin, peering nervously through the cracks of the door. The room was packed to the ceiling with illegal firearms and heavy artillery.

"Shit! Don't tell me they're actually coming for us. What the hell do we do? The entire Merriton port is locked down. If we get bagged here, we're rotting in a black site for the rest of our lives."

"Boss, talk to us! Give the order!"

The one-eyed man leading the crew chewed his cigar, his face a mask of grim calculation.

They were the infamous Volgaar Raiders. They had smuggled themselves onto the Beaufort family's ship strictly as a cover to move a massive weapons shipment into Athelvia. They never expected to get boxed in like this.

The boss spat out his cigar, gripping his submachine gun tight. "Hold your fire. Let's see how this plays out. Maybe we aren't the targets."

The exact second he finished his sentence, someone violently kicked their cabin door from the hallway.

The raiders' faces drained of color. The one-eyed man racked the bolt of his gun. "Brothers, we fight our way out!"

Out in the hall, the Ravenshire operative who had just kicked the door was immediately yanked back by his partner. "Orders are to push to the top floor. Stop messing around."

The operative looked totally bewildered. "I swear, it was like my leg just moved on its own."

"Save it. Move out."

The moment the two operatives turned their backs, the cabin door blasted open. Before they could even react, heavy steel garrotes whipped around their throats. As the life was choked out of him, one of the operatives desperately squeezed the trigger of his assault rifle.

Bang—

A deafening gunshot shattered the silence.

Benedict froze mid-step, his eyes darting toward the lower decks.

Realizing their cover was totally blown, the raiders poured out of the cabin, guns blazing as they charged straight into the main banquet hall.

Absolute chaos erupted across the ship. The elite guests shrieked in sheer terror, violently trampling each other in a blind panic to find cover.

Alaric and Julian locked eyes, instantly understanding the severity of the situation. Wesley Crain and a squad of elite shadows instantly formed a human shield around the two young heirs.

Bang—

Another shot rang out. One of the shadows in the human wall took a bullet to the head and collapsed to the floor. Wesley instantly stepped into the gap, his predatory gaze scanning the chaos like a hawk.

He pushed the door open and flipped the master switch, flooding the massive suite with glaring light. The giant bed in the center of the room was completely empty.

A dark, twisted thrill surged in Balthazar's eyes. This suite was his personal playground. With armed guards outside the only exit, there was literally nowhere to run. Anthea had pumped them full of an aphrodisiac barely thirty minutes ago... which meant the little pets were just hiding.

He pushed the door shut, locking it behind him, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

He hadn't expected them to organize a little game of hide-and-seek for him. He was absolutely going to savor this.

Walking with the relaxed, arrogant swagger of a predator, he slowly trailed his fingers over the luxurious furniture, methodically checking every shadow.

"Let's see... who am I going to catch first?"

"Don't rush. I've got all night, and neither of you are getting out."

The suite was decorated in a stark, gothic Rococo style, leaving very few actual hiding spots. He swung the massive wardrobe doors open—completely empty. There was nowhere to run. His little pets obviously knew that, because there was no one hiding in the cabinets either.

"Oh, what a pity. I was so close."

Striking out only made him more excited. As he sauntered into the attached study, his gaze flicked to the coffee table. Both fruit knives were missing.