Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 174: Stretching, Nyla decided to review the presentation slides she had prepared before the holiday, only to discover they were missing. Even Candy confirmed no backups had been distributed. After moments of frustrated searching, realization struck-the files remained on her tablet at Cloudscape Mansion, forgotten there. Muttering self-reproach, Nyla resigned herself to a quick trip back to Cloudscape Mansion. By work's end at 8 p.m., she drove to the villa, choosing to park outside rather than pull into the driveway. Light spilled from the windows, catching her attention.

Ethan was home already? Unusual for someone known for burning the midnight oil, especially on the first day back. Before she could approach, hushed male voices drifted from the courtyard. "Move it! We can't risk discovery. Ethan's security detail could appear any moment." "Is this really that Green woman? Doesn't seem like the one as described." "Boss says the woman in this villa is the one. Grab her and let's go." Nyla's blood ran cold. A woman named Green? Were they targeting her? What the hell was going on?

The lighting was dim as Nyla leaned forward, her gaze fixed intently on the scene before her. Moments later, two shadowy figures emerged, one carrying what appeared to be an unconscious person slung over their shoulder. Her heart caught in her throat as she covered her mouth, memories of a similar scene flashing through her mind. As she reached for her phone to call the police, a sharp pain exploded at the base of her neck. The device clattered to the ground as she spun around, finding herself face-to-face with a masked figure in a black hat.

Before darkness claimed her, she caught fragments of conversation from the two running figures ahead. "Why are you here, boss? What's going on..." And then, silence. Lатєst ϲhαptєrs ιn glοvєl.ｃοｍ When she came to, a dull ache throbbed at the nape of her neck, drawing a grimace. Instinctively, she tried to lift a hand to soothe it, only to find her hands immobile. Panic bloomed in her chest as she realized the full extent of her predicament-her hands, her feet, even her body, were bound tightly. She wrestled against the restraints, but they were unyielding.

Realizing she was only wasting energy, she forced herself to stop and breathe. Her surroundings came into focus. Her heart sank when she spotted Callie nearby, similarly tied up. The screech of metal on metal shattered the quiet. The iron door creaked open, drawing Nyla's wary gaze. A group of masked men filed in, their presence oppressive and deliberate. They ignored her entirely, heading straight for Callie. The one in charge-a man with a prominent scar running down his chin-paused to glance at Nyla, his expression unreadable.

"Did you make the call?" he barked, his voice cold enough to chill the air. "Yes," a subordinate replied swiftly, "but Ethan hasn't made a move yet." The subordinate's gaze flicked to Nyla as if noticing her for the first time. He gestured toward her. "And what about her?" . . .