The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 421

The leader of the ambush glanced back at his men, a twisted smirk curving his lips. "Boys, it looks like a lot of people want this kid dead. Two crews, two paychecks, but only one target."

His men chuckled.

Someone whistled. "Then let's see who gets to him first!"

On the opposite side, the rival crew leader turned to his own men. "Hear that? Someone's trying to steal our job. Don't embarrass us."

One of the thugs raised his weapon, aiming in Sebastian Thorne's direction. "Boss, should we take them out first?"

"No rush." The leader shook his head, his gaze darting between the two groups. "Let them make the first move. We'll pick up the scraps."

The first crew's leader was clearly operating on the same logic. The two factions stood off in the darkness, separated by dozens of feet, neither willing to fire the first shot.

A younger hitman stepped up to the first leader, lowering his voice. "Boss, we're just going to wait?"

"We wait." The leader lit a cigarette, the cherry flaring against the shadows of his face. "Let them do the heavy lifting. The target isn't going anywhere."

The young man hesitated. "But what if they get him first?"

The leader exhaled a plume of smoke and laughed. "Then we take him from them. He'll be a corpse, it's not like he can run."

Across the standoff, the rival leader murmured instructions to his crew. "Keep your eyes peeled. The second they move, we charge. Whoever drops the target gets the payout."

A thug licked his lips, eyes gleaming with adrenaline. "Boss, why don't we just wipe them out now?"

"No." The leader shook his head. "The target is the priority. We deal with the rest after we get paid."

He paused, then added, "But if they shoot first, light them up."

Both crews took cover behind cars and trees, their muzzles trained on Sebastian, while keeping a wary eye on each other.

The night wind swept through the tree-lined avenue, heavy with the scent of gunpowder.

Seth Sterling lay flat next to Sebastian, sweat beading on his forehead. He lowered his voice. "Mr. Thorne, two crews. At least a dozen men, heavily armed."

Sebastian didn't answer.

He stared at the shadowy figures across the road, tracking the lethal muzzles flashing in the dark.

Lance Sterling was huddled behind a tire, his voice trembling. "Mr. Thorne, are we going to die out here?"

Sebastian leaned against the car door. The wound on his back throbbed with agonizing intensity, and blood from his injured ear trickled steadily down his neck.

Was he going to die?

He hadn't even heard her answer yet.

His child hadn't been born.

His grandfather was getting older, and his mother's health was fragile.

He closed his eyes.

Suddenly—

A gunshot tore through the night sky.

It didn't come from either of the rival crews.

It echoed from the deeper, pitch-black shadows down the avenue.

A bullet slammed flawlessly into the tree trunk right next to the first crew leader's head, sending wood splinters flying across his cheek.

The leader ducked violently, clutching the bloody scratch on his face, and screamed into his radio, "Who?! Who fired?!"

No one answered.

But the shots kept coming.

It wasn't blind fire; it was a rhythmic, deadly precise barrage. Every single bullet carried a lethal guarantee.

The men from the first crew began to drop.

One, two, three.