Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 389

Balthazar let out a low, dark chuckle, trailing his hand along the edge of the heavy desk as he searched. As his fingers grazed the cold surface, they caught on something wet. He rubbed his fingertips together and brought them to his nose.

Blood?

The twisted excitement in his eyes instantly chilled. His gaze snapped to the laptop sitting in the center of the desk.

He stepped closer, using a single finger to pop the screen open. The keyboard was smeared with even more blood than the desk.

They had hacked his computer.

Balthazar calmly punched in a string of passcodes, bringing up the secure drive. The encrypted files were still there. He was just about to exhale when it hit him.

There was blood on the keys. That meant someone had actively bypassed his security, yet... the self-destruct protocol hadn't triggered.

Balthazar slowly raised his eyes. The sharp, mechanical click of him racking the slide of his pistol echoed through the dead silence of the room like cracking ice.

Vivienne was pressed flat against the wall, shivering uncontrollably behind the heavy blackout curtains, less than three feet away.

Balthazar's predatory gaze swept the room, dead-locking onto the curtains. He paused for a fraction of a second before slowly shifting his path toward the bookshelf instead.

Vivienne squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering against her ribs so violently she felt like she was going to pass out.

Just as Balthazar's hand reached out to rip the curtain back, a loud crash echoed from the bedroom outside. Balthazar's expression darkened, and he instantly spun around and bolted out of the study.

Vivienne's blood ran cold. The second his back was turned, she scrambled out from behind the fabric and plastered herself behind the open study door.

"Hahaha! My little pet~ I haven't even found you yet, and you're already throwing a tantrum?"

Cyril stood in the bedroom, gripping the heavy chef's knife. With one vicious slash, he severed the main power line to the suite.

Zzzt— The lights blew out, plunging the massive room into pitch blackness.

Balthazar looked around in absolute awe. God! Look at what he had found!

The sight of this cornered pet wielding a knife with such lethal intent triggered every dark, twisted impulse in his blood. That look! That absolute ruthlessness! It was like staring into a mirror.

After all these years, he had finally found a toy worth breaking.

Cyril slowly backed toward the suite's main entrance, wedging the blade of the knife into the electronic deadbolt, trying to force the mechanism.

Balthazar instantly caught onto his plan. Raising his gun, he stalked forward through the dark. "Little guy, did you steal the data off that laptop?"

Cyril didn't say a word, violently twisting the handle.

Bang—

A bullet shattered the wood of the door, grazing mere millimeters past the boy's cheek.

Balthazar snapped back to reality and drove his knee brutally into Cyril's ribs. Cyril let out a muffled groan, clutched his stomach, and collapsed to the floor.

He was completely out of strength, running on fumes.

Balthazar knew this kid was a feral wolf. To make sure he stayed down, he brought the heavy steel grip of his pistol crashing into Cyril's temple.

Cyril's vision flared red before he slumped sideways onto the carpet.

Balthazar dragged him up by the collar and tossed him onto the center of the bed. As he reached out to strip the boy's jacket, he realized the kid's knuckles were completely white—he was still gripping the knife.

Barely conscious, and still trying to fight back.

Balthazar leveled the gun at him, putting on an elegant, gentlemanly smile. "Drop the knife, little guy."

Cyril weakly turned his head. Through his blurred, darkening vision, he saw a small shadow creeping desperately toward the cracked door.

'Cyril, we need to make a deal... If things go completely south, we have to make sure at least one of us survives. Whoever gets caught first has to do whatever it takes to buy time for the other. Deal?'

Cyril closed his eyes and locked his fingers around the hilt of the blade.

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