Cheyenne ran out of the villa, her high heels hitting the asphalt road with varying depth and rhythm.
The coastal highway was deserted, and between the blue sky, the vast sea, and the road lay Cheyenne's slender figure, accompanied by her long red dress and flowing chestnut hair, dancing in the air and highlighting her petite stature.
"Stop!" shouted a few black-robed figures chasing after her, brandishing wooden sticks and other objects.
As they got closer, Cheyenne exerted all her strength, kicking off her high heels and running barefoot.
Buzzing sounds came from ahead as a motorcycle approached, blasting popular DJ electronic music into the wilderness.
Cheyenne turned her head towards the sound and saw Gordon, wearing a blue police uniform, riding a black motorcycle. He resembled a graceful leopard running across the plains, lightning-fast and agile.
As the motorcycle passed by her side, Gordon suddenly leaned and tilted the bike at a height of less than ten centimeters above the ground, executing a 180-degree turn.
The intense friction between the tires and the ground created a burst of silver-white sparks, accompanied by the odor of burning rubber.
Cheyenne halted in her tracks, stopping in place.
Behind her, the group of black-clothed pursuers raised their wooden sticks and swung them at Gordon, who was seated on the motorcycle.
"Be careful!" she exclaimed, her voice carried away by the murky ocean breeze as it irritated her throat, causing her voice to become softer. Her bright eyes expressed concern as they fixed upon Gordon.
At the critical moment, the man reached out a tan hand towards her. Cheyenne quickly lifted her feet and took two steps forward, grabbing his hand.
With a slight force from him, she effortlessly landed on the motorcycle's back seat. Her fair, delicate hand tightened around Gordon's waist. "Go to the Todd mansion."
Behind them, the wooden stick aimed at Gordon's head flew toward him. Thanks to Cheyenne's sudden appearance, the stick struck her shoulder without deviation.
She bit her red lip and let out a muffled groan, extending her hand to catch the falling stick mid-air. With a swift motion, she hurled it back towards the black-clothed pursuers.
With the added force of the wind, Cheyenne exerted only eighty percent of her strength, yet the stick had double the impact.
The three black-clothed men were hit in the face, instantly sporting bruised and swollen noses, their blood dripping down. Forced to stop pursuing, they could only watch as the man took Cheyenne away.
Relieved of immediate danger, Cheyenne's mind was still in a daze as she recalled the events of the past two days.
Oh no!
Kelvin was still in the villa.
What should she do?
Davon had lost her, and he would surely take Kelvin as replacement. He couldn't die, could he?
Amidst her thoughts about the villa, Cheyenne hadn't heard a word that Gordon had said to her... until she noticed a familiar black sedan approaching. Her gaze was drawn to it.
The exhaustion on his face was hard to conceal.
Seeing this, Thalia felt even happier. She considerately and gently tucked her husband's blanket. "It's alright, it's my duty to do this, I'm not tired. Davon still has to deal with things outside."
"I haven't seen him for two days either. What could be so important that he couldn't even attend his stepmother's funeral?" Kai frowned, expressing his discontent.
Thalia, with her back turned to him as she hung his suit on the coat rack, clenched the fabric tightly in her delicate hands. A cold smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I'll ask him later. Well, you should sleep now. Don't worry about it too much."
Thalia turned back to glance at him before elegantly striding out in her high heels, her slender figure disappearing beyond the door.
As soon as she left, Kai, who had feigned sleep, suddenly opened his eyes. Behind his weary and cloudy gaze, a flicker of light shone through.
'Poppy has been chased away by her, and now Kai was drugged and unconscious. The entire Todd family is within the grasp of me and Davon, isn't it?' Thalia thought gleefully and called Davon to update him on the situation, only to find his phone turned off.
She was taken aback for a moment, then looked at the clock hanging on the wall; it was almost midnight. They had agreed that Davon would come back before twelve, personally dealing with Iker.
Thalia made a decision. To act now to avoid any unforeseen events, she would personally make a move on Iker.
The vast Iker's Estate was eerily silent, devoid of any human presence.
In the center of the hall, a young man sat bound to a wheelchair, his hands restrained and his eyes covered with a black cloth. Only half of his distinct and resolute facial features were visible - his lips, crimson and defined, not giving away any signs of distress or defeat.
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