The Double or more Life of the Fake Heiress (Mirabella) novel Chapter 1259

At that moment, Nick had already sliced through the glass with the knife he held. With a quick shove, he smashed the pane inward, sending shards falling as he leaped inside.

Just as he made his move, the team leader on the other side pulled the trigger.

A gunshot cracked through the night.

The figures on the connecting beams vanished.

The team leader, eyeing the shattered window, casually blew across the gun barrel and turned away, striding toward the elevator with purpose.

"Send in the cleanup crew."

His voice, light and airy, echoed sharply through the hallway.

*

Over at the research facility, Atlas, who had snuck in with his team through the back door, heard the gunshot too, and his heart sank.

They’d fired a shot; that meant trouble for Mr. Nick… With eyes blazing red, Atlas knocked out a guard with a solid punch.

His team, having dealt with others lurking in the shadows, gathered around him, their faces equally grim.

Atlas clenched his fists tightly, an air of barely-contained violence surrounding him.

Two seconds later, he forced down his emotions, keeping his mind clear as he addressed his team, "Mr. Nick's got skills; he must’ve dodged it. Based on the gunshot’s direction, some of you stay here to keep an eye on things, the rest come with me to check next door."

With that, he briskly headed towards the annex.

His team followed without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Mirabella, upon hearing the gunshot through her headset, shot up from her chair, a heavy feeling settling over her.

"We’ve met before, haven’t we?" Nick had made it from the fifth floor down to the third.

To keep him from running into guards at the elevator, Mirabella had directed him through the fire escape, with the exit conveniently near the back door.

Mirabella stayed silent, not replying.

With no response in his ear, Nick just gave a faint, tired smile, his voice weaker, "Whoever you are, thanks for today."

Mirabella still didn’t respond.

Nick continued his slow descent, his breathing growing heavier, and by the time he reached the second floor, his steps were almost at a standstill.

It was then he heard footsteps coming from below, at least five people on their way up.

Nick’s hand, clutching the knife, trembled. He lowered his gaze, a weary, bitter smile crossing his face.