Chapter 349

Hearing the good news, Joseph gave lsaac a hearty pat on the shoulder and exclaimed with unrestrained delight, "Excellent! This is a blessing beyond measure,truly wonderful!"

Verena and Isaac exchanged a quiet, knowing smile before settling at the dining table to share breakfast.

As they ate, lsaac now and then handed bread or pastries to Verena, his expression brimming with tenderness.

When the meal ended, Verena bid farewell to Joseph and Marisa, preparing to return to the office to deal with pressing matters.

"Verena, take care on the road. If anything happens,call me at once," Isaac reminded her softly as he helped her intoher coat.

She nodded, rose on tiptoe, and brushed a gentle kiss across his cheek. "I know-don't worry so much. I'll look after myself."

With that, she stepped into the back seat of the car. The driver, following her orders, started the engine.and the vehicle rolled slowly out of the villa gates.

Isaac remained standing, his eyes fixed on the car until it faded from sight.

A faint frown creased his brow: after a brief pause,he drew out his phone and dialed swiftly.

The call connected at once. Isaac's voice dropped into a deep, commanding register. "Send me two best mercenaries immediately.”

The man on the other end responded with crisp respect before the line went dead.

Before long, two towering figures appeared-burly,sharp-eyed, exuding the quiet menace of men seasoned in battle.

Isaac regarded them with gravity. "Protect my wife without drawing attention. She's on her way to the comnpany. Follow her closely, and if anything unusual occurs, inform me at once."

Both men gave a solemn nod, moving in unison as they set off in the direction Verena's car had taken.

Meanwhile, Verena's vehicle glided through streets teeming with traffic. Behind, the mercenaries followed in a low-profile black car,keeping steady pace.

They held their distance carefully-close enough to watch over her,far enough not to catch her notice.

At first, the ride was uneventful. But as they reached an elevated bridge.the mercenary behind the wheel of the black car narrowed his eyes at the rearview mirror.His calm expression hardened.

"There's a problem," he muttered,tapping the brakes lightly, a note of warning in his voice.

The passenger straightened,scanning the mirror.

Sure enough, a gray car lingered behind Verena's vehicle at an oddly constant two-car length. Its driving pattern was highly suspicious. It never overtook,never drifted back, never altered with the traffic. Like a shadow clinging to its source, it followed with unwavering persistence.

"It's been on her tail since the last intersection,keeping the same rhythm," the driver said in a low tone.

"Keep watching.Once we're off this bridge,we move,"the passenger replied,already slipping a handgun from beneath his seat with practiced ease. He checked the magazine, flicked the safety off, and tucked it smoothly beneath his jacket.

Unaware of the looming danger, Verena sat in her car,eyes on the tablet in her hands, absorbed in her work.

Within ten minutes, the car exited the bridge and turned onto a quieter road.

The gray vehicle tried to follow-but the mercenaries made their move. Their black car shot forward like a hawk diving, boxing the pursuer to the side.

Tires screeched in protest, the sound slicing through the air.

Both mercenaries advanced swiftly toward the trapped car.

Inside the gray car,Howe slammed the brakes, nearly striking the steering wheel with his forehead. Realizing things had gone awry, he gripped the wheel and tried to maneuver desperately, the car rocking under his frantic efforts.

Before he could escape, one mercenary's hand shot out and gripped the door handle tightly, handgun drawn in one seamless motion.

The barrel was aimed at Howe's temple through the window as the mercenary growled, eyes fierce, "Out -if you value your life."

With death staring him in the face, Howe had no choice but to obey.

Though fear coiled in his gut, his years on the streets had taught him to mask weakness. He forced a shaky smile. "Gentlemen, is there some kind of problem?"

His voice wavered, yet he tried to sound casual,hoping to douse the flames of tension.

But the mercenary's eyes were like cold steel. He snorted. "You know perfectly well why we're here."

The words struck Howe like a hammer blow. His forced grin faltered, lips dry as he licked them nervously, yet he summoned another thin smile."There must be some misunderstanding. Lower the gun,and we can settle this peacefully."

As he spoke, he shifted his feet subtly, searching for an opening to flee.

But the mercenaries were quicker.

The other mercenary closed in with sharp precision,delivering a kick to Howe's leg that sent him crashing to his knees.

In a flash, his wrists were pinned behind him in an iron grip. Pain twisted Howe's features as he struggled, but against trained fighters, resistance was nothing more than thrashing in quicksand.

"Whether this is a misunderstanding or not," the mercenary said coldly, "will be determined by our boss."

In a high-end club in Ochrerayd, Isaac sat quietly on a wide sofa,authority radiating from him like heat from the sun.

Though still, he resembled a lion biding its time-calm on the surface, yet daunting to behold. His tailored black suit outlined the hard lines of his tall frame,projecting an air of unshaken command.

He lifted his head slightly, a glimmer of frost flashing through his eyes, gaze locking onto Howe, who knelt trembling before him.

Under that piercing stare, Howe dared not raise his head. His breathing came shallow and uneven.

The room held its breath, broken only by the ragged rhythm of Howve's lungs and the soft, deliberate rotation of Isaac's wine glass between his fingers.

The silence stretched tight as a bowstring, every second thick with tension, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.