?Chapter 1113:


    “Don’t move.” Moses’ hand froze. His fingers brushed against something—an almost invisible wire, thin as a spider’s silk. It wrapped around her neck, hidden beneath her hair.


    It was a cruel trick—the timer was a distraction. The real detonator was this deadly thread.


    “You always say I am lucky, remember?” Moses smiled faintly. “I’ll share half my luck with you. From now on, we’ll split it.”


    He took smaller scissors from the kit, carefully lifting the silver thread.


    He snipped it clean.


    A short distance away, Darrion’s expression twisted.


    He had believed his design too intricate, too clever for anyone to unravel.


    Yet here it was, undone with a pair of scissors and a steady hand.


    Moses stepped behind Karina, freeing her from the ropes before catching her in a firm but gentle embrace. “You were incredibly brave.” Karina leaned into him, the tension finally breaking.


    “Now that the drama is over, shouldn’t we be heading back?” Vulture’s voice broke through the moment.


    He had hoped for a chance to y hero, only to end up watching from the sidelines.


    Moses turned to Karina. “Can you walk?”


    Karina nodded, but her legs betrayed her, buckling.


    Moses caught her instantly.


    Before she could say anything, he scooped her up effortlessly and strode toward the car.


    Passing Nate and Corrine, he tossed a grin over his shoulder. “We’re heading out first. See you twoter.”


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    The group began to depart. Darrion, unable to stand, was shoved into a car.


    As the door closed, his eyes lingered on Nate and Corrine. A cold, calcting smirk tugged at his lips. He had nned too carefully to let them win so easily.


    Watching Corrine and Nate enter their own car, he adjusted his sses, his eyes glinting coldly through the rearview mirror.


    Seeing his expression, Presley beside him felt increasingly uneasy. Something felt… wrong. Had they overlooked anything?


    His thoughts were interrupted when Hawk suddenly stepped in front of their car, waving them to a stop.


    Presley rolled down the window. “What is it?”


    “Returning something,” Hawk said, holding up a string of bombs—tied together like a grotesque gand.


    Darrion’s eyebrow twitched violently at the sight. He pressed a hidden remote in his palm.


    Nothing happened.


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