Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 562

Thump—Thump—Thump

Isolde pressed a hand hard against her chest, feeling the suffocating wave of despair and hatred gnawing at her soul.

Bong—

As the final toll of the bell echoed through the air, a hymnal chorus drifted from inside the sealed church.

Just then, a shadow fell over her.

"Nicely done."

Isolde froze. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up.

Preston Everhart stood there with his hands casually stuffed into his coat pockets. A mild smile played on his lips, and his handsome face held a trace of nonchalant approval. "Tell me, what does it feel like to personally send your best friend to hell?"

Isolde's fingernails dug into her palms. She met Preston's gaze head-on. "Painful. Yet deeply satisfying."

Preston was highly amused by her answer. He decided to offer her a little reward.

Chuckling softly, he reached out and brushed a thumb across her damp cheek. "Very good. It looks like you're almost qualified."

Qualified to be his prey.

Isolde pursed her lips and lowered her head in a display of faux shyness.

Preston looked down at her. His fingers trailed down her cheek to grip her chin, tilting her face up. Without warning, his voice turned ice-cold. "What happened with Kael Kenyon?"

Panic flared in Isolde's eyes. Her voice trembled as she explained, "That was an accident. I didn't know he was the one in the car that day."

Switching cars had indeed been a last-minute decision on Kael's part, so her excuse held up.

Preston casually released her chin, his tone laced with warning. "Clean up your own messes."

Isolde nodded frantically. Seeing Preston turn to leave, she didn't have time to think. She lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. "Wait, can you take me with you?"

The West Lynn district was swarming with church members. If she didn't stick with him, she feared she'd run into deadly trouble on her way out.

Preston coldly yanked his arm free, a cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. "Regrettably, no. Making it out of here alive is the next part of your test."

Isolde's face paled. Tears welled in her eyes as she clung desperately to the edge of his coat. "Please, don't. I'm begging you."

"She really that pretty?" Titus raised a hand, and his lackey immediately passed him the photo.

"Damn."

The greed and lust in Titus's eyes were instantly ignited.

The younger man smirked, looking quite pleased with himself. "Glad you're satisfied. Do this job right, and there will be plenty more perks waiting for you."

Titus rubbed his chin, eyeing the man with sudden suspicion. "You know my rules. What's this girl's background?"

The man sneered dismissively. "Who cares about her background? You have Miss Whitmore backing you, so what are you afraid of? If you don't have the guts, just say so. There's a long line of people begging for this kind of payday."

Seeing their boss hesitate, the lackeys piped up, terrified of losing out on such a prime target.

"Boss, he's right. It's an easy win. With Miss Whitmore pulling the strings, who's gonna touch us? There aren't many families around bigger than the Whitmore family."

"Yeah, Boss. This is a gold mine, no matter how you slice it."

Titus's resolve had already crumbled, though he maintained a facade of reluctance. "The academy's security is too tight. Guys like us can't just stroll in. This won't be easy."