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The Phantom Heiress Rising From The Shadows

Chapter 430
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Chapter 430: Jade said, "Ethan, what are you doing? Are you truly planning to marry this cold-blooded killer? She just killed a man! Lower your gun; let's resolve this peacefully." Understanding Jade's merciless nature well, Ethan knew she cared little for the lives of her own crew. Viper's death didn't matter to her.

Her anger was probably driven by his importance to her operations.

Ethan's voice was icy as he ordered, "Tell your men to stand down, or I'll shoot." He increased the pressure of the gun against her head, tilting it. Jade stiffened, fearful of the gun going off.

"Ethan," she pleaded urgently, "why choose Brenna over me? She's ruthless, taking lives without hesitation. How can you be at peace being with someone like her? I love you more, and I can help advance your career with my connections. I'm also not as cruel as her. Ethan, choose me. I'm the better choice for you." As she saw his indifference, tears welled up in her eyes, and her frustration grew.

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Suddenly, a gunshot rang out as Ethan fired a warning shot into the wall. "This is your last chance-drop your weapons, or I'll put a bullet in her head." His words were cold, and while he considered his escape options, his grip on the gun remained firm.

The security team hesitated, torn between giving up their guns and letting Ethan take control of the yacht or resisting and putting their boss' life in danger. Jayceon and Ernst cautiously moved closer, their weapons ready, eyeing the armed men.

Running out of patience, Ethan acted decisively and shot Jade in the arm.

The sound of the gunshot echoed sharply.

Jade let out a painful cry. "You really shot me?" she gasped, staring at Ethan in disbelief. "How dare you shootbecause of her?" In that instant, any lingering affection she had for him hardened into pure resentment. It was clear that she meant nothing to him.

"Drop your weapons," Ethan said again.

With reluctance, the guards complied, dropping their weapons.

"Now, leave!" Ethan roared.

Just then, a dark, submarine silhouette slowly emerged beneath the surface of the sea.

Shadowy figures then appeared, moving like phantoms as they silently climbed the yacht's sides with flawless precision. No one noticed them.

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The first deck had minimal guards, as most had rushed to the upper deck in response to the gunshot, leaving it poorly defended.

The remaining guards surveyed the vast, empty seascape, seeing no other vessels in sight. They were certain that there was no danger here. They were engrossed in the unfolding above as if watching a play.

But the next second, their mouths—

Their mouths were covered by gloved hands, and their lives were taken with quick, précise/knife cuts to their E throats.

Within moments, the deck was m stained with the lifeless the guards. A group of twelve Speratives N moved in quiet coordination, heading toward the second deck with weapons drawn and ready.

Another group of twenty quickly appeared and entered the lowerm cabins, following interpol's intelligence about concealed narcotics caches.