Angelina red at the door with a threatening gleam in her eyes. She raised her arm, pointing her gun


    at the man who barged into the vi.


    Right as she was about to pull the trigger, the intruder swiftly kicked her weapon away. The pain in her


    hand caused her to sweat over the forehead.


    Before she had a chance to breathe, she snatched a fruit knife from the coffee table and aimed it at his


    chest. The two engaged in a hair-raising battle.


    Angelina was trained in Close Quarters Combat, a technique learned by assassins, from a young age.


    However, she gradually found herself weakening after ten rounds of fighting with the devilish intruder,


    who was a killing machine.


    She narrowly missed a few of his fatal attacks, nearly getting her throat slit.


    "Ouch—" Soon, the intruder figured out the w in her technique and attacked her ordingly. He


    pinned her arm, grabbed the knife from her, and kicked her hard on the back.


    Angelina limply copsed onto the floor after the attack. As if that weren''t enough, the intruder stabbed


    her in the left leg with the knife to render herpletely defenseless.


    "You are... You''re not from the Harper Group. No one from the Harper Group acts in the way you do!"


    The excruciating pain made her see stars. Even then, she did not cry and beg for mercy. Gritting her


    teeth, she trembled in agony.


    She questioned, "Who sent you? Who are you working for?"


    Remy remained silent in the face of her interrogation. As a professional assassin, he always strove to


    speak less and work more.


    Although the vi had exceptional soundproofing qualities, Lauren stirred awake after hearing the huge


    commotion downstairs. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up in bed, only for silence to return, as though


    everything that had happened was an illusion.


    She put on her jacket, hugged her teddy bear, and slowly made her way to the first floor. "Angie?


    Angie?"


    She inhaled sharply halfway through the stairs because Angelina was nowhere to be found. All she


    could see was Remy sitting carelessly on the couch and peeling an apple with the knife.


    "Who. Who are you?" Holding her breath, she felt her legs shaking.


    Remy looked up coldly and emotionlessly at the pretty youngdy. "Are you Ms. Lauren?"


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    Lauren froze at the question. She did not move or answer him, but her silence was a tacit admission.


    Remy peeled the apple skin without breaking it. Then, he sliced the apple. Before eating it, he gave it


    some thought and asked her, "Want some apple?"


    She shook her head with a frantic look in her eyes.


    Remy chewed on the apple slice. He exined, "Ms. Lauren, Mr. Harper Senior sent me here to pick


    you up."


    "Where''s Angie?" Staring squarely at him, she quietly unlocked her phone behind her back.


    "Ms. Lauren, please do not move." Remy monitored each of her moves without having to look at her.


    He warned her coldly, "Do not move if you still wish to see Angie alive."