She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 641

A moment later, Sandro returned—not on his own two feet, but hurled through the heavy mahogany doors of the study like a sack of garbage. The wood splintered with a deafening crash.

Jennifer let out a piercing scream.

Everyone whipped around, their eyes widening in sheer terror.

Hank Lonsdale stood in the doorway. His sharp black suit was dusted with dirt and stained with dark blood. The fabric at his left shoulder was torn from a bullet graze, revealing a jagged wound, but his right hand held his firearm with rock-solid stability. His gaze, sharp as a hawk’s, instantly swept the room, locking onto every potential threat.

A dangerous, bloodthirsty smirk curled his lips. "Playing a game of murder? Care to deal me in?"

"H-Hank Lonsdale?" Corinne Pierce’s voice trembled. For someone who always had everything perfectly calculated, a deep, icy dread finally began to claw its way up from her chest.

Hank casually waved the barrel of his gun. "Hello there. Figured out how you want to die yet?"

Loyce stepped out from behind the heavy bookcase. Seeing her brother, her eyes flickered with realization. He hadn’t tracked her all the way out here for Giselle. He had come for her.

Hank’s eyes snapped to her. He gave her a rapid, sweeping once-over, and only when he confirmed she was just a bit bruised and dirtied did the violent storm in his eyes settle slightly.

Even so, his tone carried a biting edge—half reprimand, half lingering terror. "We are going to have words about this later."

It was a vague threat, but Loyce understood perfectly. He was furious she had risked her life alone.

Corinne forced down her rising panic. She wasn’t some fragile hothouse flower. Having dealt with the world’s elite, she knew exactly what Hank’s secondary title was: the head of the Costa family.

But she never expected him to actually be here!

Her voice went shrill. "Hank! This is private property! You’re trespassing, and using armed force—"

"Save it," Hank cut her off, irritated. The muzzle of his gun drifted downward, aiming directly at the knee of the groaning Sandro on the floor. "You want to talk legality while you’re out here hunting my sister for sport?"

*Bang!*

The bullet shattered Sandro’s kneecap with surgical precision. The spray of blood and his agonizing shriek made everyone in the room flinch violently.

"Now," Hank said, as if he had merely swatted a fly. He raised the gun again, sweeping it lazily across the terrified group. "I make the rules."

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