?Chapter 861:


    “Speed up!” Saul barked, his urgency mounting.


    If anything happened to her, even offering up his own life would not be enough to atone for it.


    His subordinate looked sick with anxiety. “Saul, we really cannot—”


    “Move!” Unbuckling in one swift motion, Saul switched ces with his subordinate before the poor man could react.


    Saul’s foot mmed on the gas. The car lurched forward, the sudden eleration sending his subordinate iling against the dashboard with a startled yelp.


    Saul narrowed his eyes and bore down, closing the distance in an attempt to break the Hummers’ formation.


    But just as he thought he had an opening, a white Bentley Continental slid in front of him, blocking his every move with surgical precision. He gritted his teeth and mmed a fist against the wheel. “Damn it!”


    Both Bleacher and Saul watched in stunned disbelief as Corrine’s car made an abrupt, razor-sharp turn—crossing the barrier into oing traffic.


    “Is she insane?” they shouted in unison.


    Rush hour. The roads were packed. And she was driving straight into the flow.


    The two ck Hummers refused to back down, following her lead without hesitation.


    From the oppositene, an oil tank truck barreled toward them, its deafening horn ring a frantic warning.


    Corrine’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, but her expression remained eerily calm. The reflection of shing headlights flickered in her sharp gaze—cold, unyielding.


    The Hummers surged forward, engines growling like beasts refusing to yield.


    “Is she trying to get herself killed?” Bleacher blurted, his voice sharp with disbelief.


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    Saul’s chest tightened as he watched the reckless maneuver unfold. His pulse pounded against his ribs, each second stretching unbearably. A collision at this speed would be fatal—there would be no second chances.


    Everyone held their breath, the tension thick in the air, nerves stretched to their limits. Meanwhile, Corrine’s crimson lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile—so subtle it was nearly imperceptible. Yet, her gaze remained distant, untouched by emotion, as cold and unreadable as ever.


    Inside the cab of the massive tank truck, the driver gritted his teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He mmed his foot down on the brake pedal, but the sheer weight of the vehicle made stopping impossible. The tires screeched, smoke curling from the asphalt, yet the monstrous machine barreled forward.


    The Hummer drivers hesitated, torn between their relentless pursuit and the imminent threat ahead. Uncertainty flickered in their eyes as they nced back and forth between Corrine and the looming vehicle.


    And in that brief moment of doubt, she struck. With a flick of her wrist, she shifted gears and executed a wless maneuver—mming the car into reverse before spinning it in a seamless arc. The tires screeched as she merged effortlessly back into the flow of traffic, as fluid and precise as a seasoned dancer.


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