Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 78: The two men stood frozen in place.

A heartbeat later, each took a punch straight to the face, one right after the other.

Clutching their faces, the men stumbled back, groaning in pain.

Without missing a beat, Maia pushed herself to her feet and moved toward the broken window. "You… you're awake?" one of them stammered, his voice high with panic.

Casually rolling her wrist, Maia gave them a flat look. She hadn't breathed in anything when they pressed that cloth against her and had only pretended.

"Catch this!"

Through the shattered windowpane, a wooden stick sailed toward her, easy to toss through the jagged opening. Maia caught it cleanly, her grip steady.

Facing the three stunned men, she raised an eyebrow and let a lazy smile curve her lips. Her voice dropped, cold enough to make their blood run thin. "So, who sent you?"

One of them shouted back, almost with pride, "We are professionals! The first rule is to never sell out a client, no matter what!"

"Is that so?" Maia said, her gaze turning cold. "Then do not blame me for what happens next."

The men sneered. "Save your breath. You caught us off guard before. You really think you can handle the three of us in here?"

Maia gave no reply. She simply raised an eyebrow and sprang into action.

Ten minutes later…

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The sound of a stick striking flesh rang out from the shack, blending with desperate cries and gasps for mercy.

"Help!"

"Let me out! Murder!"

"Have mercy, please!"

The three men were now slumped against the door, shoving with all their strength to pry it open, only to find it barred from the outside. Panic gripped them like quicksand, pulling them down fast.

"Please, stop hitting us! I'll confess! I'll tell you everything you want to know!"

The leader of the men in black finally crumbled and cried out for mercy. Every inch of his body throbbed, battered and bruised by the relentless strikes from the wooden stick. He cursed himself for falling for Maia's trick earlier - dropping his knife without a second thought.

Now, unarmed and humiliated, he had no way to defend himself against the storm she unleashed.

If this kept going, he knew that he would not walk out of here.

Maia lowered the stick slightly, pointing it lazily at the trio trembling near the door. "Last chance," she said, her voice flat. "Talk."

No longer daring to hold anything back, the leader blurted out, "It was… Jarrod! Jarrod Morgan, the eldest son!"

The moment the name left his mouth, Maia's expression turned extremely cold. She had suspected that Jarrod might be involved, but hearing it confirmed still hit harder than she expected.

Deep down, she hadn't wanted to believe it - not after calling him brother for over a decade, not after everything they had shared.

The sharp sting in her chest betrayed the strength she worked so hard to maintain.

Curling her fingers tightly, Maia forced herself to swallow the emotion down.

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.

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