Chapter 1222
Darcy nodded. “Alright. I’ll contact you once I get any updates.”
“Mm. Darcy, I’m counting on you,” Mary replied.
After Darcy left, Mary returned to the bedside, sitting down and clasping her hands together in prayer. She gazed at the unconscious, pale–faced Edward, hoping that Darcy would succeed this time.
If he failed, Emerald would never let her or her son, Vik, go.
Back in her bedroom, Nyla couldn’t shake off a growing sense of unease, though she wasn’t sure why.
She reached for her phone, about to contact Damon, when she suddenly heard urgent footsteps approaching
Before she could react, the door burst open, and several men in black stormed in.
A maid from the estate stood behind them.
Nyla tightened her grip on her phone and demanded coldly, “Who are you?!”
The maid pointed at her and told the leader of the men in black, “She’s Emerald’s other daughter.”
The leader nodded, and in an instant, the men swarmed her, restraining her tightly.
In the struggle, Nyla’s phone slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor.
“Who are you? Where are you taking me?!” she shouted.
No one answered.
1:|:21:ཀློད་ག
Within minutes, Nyla was bound and escorted out of the estate, shoved into the backseat of a stretched Lincoln.
Two men sat beside her, their expressions unreadable as they stared straight ahead.
Realizing they wouldn’t respond, she stopped asking questions.
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Time passed slowly. Eventually, the car pulled up in front of a villa.
As Nyla was dragged out, she saw Delia being pulled from another vehicle.
Delia’s eyes widened in disbelief when she saw her. “Nyla?! Why are you here too?”
Before Nyla could respond, they were both pushed inside the villa.
In the living room, Darcy sat comfortably on the sofa, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand with a smile.
As soon as Nyla and Delia entered, the latter barked, “Darcy! Why did you bring us here? If you don’t let us go right now, my mother will make you pay when she returns!”
Darcy chuckled. “Your mother? By the time she gets back, she might not even be able to save herself, let alone you.”
Ignoring Delia’s outrage, he turned to his men. “Lock them in the basement. No food. Give them water every few hours–just enough to keep them alive.”
His subordinates acted swiftly, dragging Nyla and Delia downstairs before locking the heavy metal door behind them.
The basement was dimly lit by a single flickering bulb, barely enough to make on their surroundings.
Della and Nyla sat in opposite corners, refusing to acknowledge each other.
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