Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 161

Chapter 161: Hans

Solara, the Lewis family villa

Jill’s voice trembled with fear as she turned to Ethan, her eyes wide with panic. “What are we supposed to do? Those men in black took Lillian, and we have no clue where they’ve brought her!” Her hands clenched tightly, betraying her desperation.

Ethan’s face tightened, brows drawing together in concentration. “Don’t lose your head just yet. I’m already on it. From what you told me, those men want something from Lillian. That suggests she isn’t in immediate danger. You need to calm down before you make things worse.”

Jill’s throat tightened, and tears threatened to spill. “How can I stay calm? If Rina and I hadn’t fallen for their trap, none of this would have happened. Lillian wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ethan ran a hand over his forehead, frustration flickering in his eyes. “I’ll get help. You stay put here. Don’t run around or do anything reckless. Wait for updates at home.” Without waiting for a response, he strode purposefully out of the room.

—

At the Shanks family estate, the atmosphere was equally heavy with worry.

“Grandpa, what should we do? Do you think Lillian is really in danger?” Rina’s voice was urgent, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Austin’s expression was stern, his eyes dark with concern. “Don’t worry too much. I’ve already dispatched people to search for her. And remember who Lillian is—she’s strong and won’t let herself be harmed easily.”

Madam Marilyn’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as her voice faltered. “Why does that poor girl have to suffer so much in her life…”

—

Meanwhile, at Kingston International Airport, the polished marble floors reflected the bright overhead lights, lending the space a sleek, almost clinical feel. Groups of travelers bustled about—some calm, others hurried, many with anxious looks etched across their faces. The intercom crackled intermittently with announcements in Chinese, urging passengers to board their flights.

From the VIP passageway emerged a striking figure: a man dressed impeccably in a tailored beige coat, black turtleneck, and corduroy pants. His eyes, dark as obsidian, held a magnetic intensity that seemed to command respect without a word. Every step he took was measured and graceful, radiating an air of nobility and quiet power.

“Sir, shall we proceed directly to the company?” Foster asked, walking alongside him.

Sebastian glanced at his watch, his voice low and compelling. “No, prepare the helicopter. We’re heading to Solara.”

—

“Understood, sir.” Foster’s tone was steady, as if he had already anticipated this decision.

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