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Chapter_775
Gavin scoffed, the malice evident in his wrinkled eyes. “What can be done? The deed is done;
they’re gone. So, we’ll just send Kaitlyn a picture of the urn, and let’s see what she does. Will she
cling to that useless old family recipe, or does she want to see her parents reduced to ashes?”
Victoria’s eyes widened in horror.
Who the hell came up with this sick plan?
Was Gavin not afraid of being haunted by the Littleton’s vengeful spirits?
…
Aurora Mountain Villa.
In a two-thousand-square-foot villa, the lights were off in every room except the living room.
Members of the Nine Mystics Society were stationed in every corner, ensuring the villa’s security.
Kaitlyn had been teetering on the edge of a breakdown all day. Finally relaxing, she collapsed into
the first empty room she found and fell asleep.
Amelia’s fever had broken, Tyler’s wounds showed no signs of infection, and after taking Vivienne’s
pills, Sadie and Julian were out like lights.
Anna did a round of the villa before settling back in the living room.
Draven sat on the couch, silently cleaning his knives, an array of sleek switchblades neatly arrayed
on the coffee table.
Having finished the tasks given to him by Percival, Thomas stretched his long legs, carelessly
resting his head against the back of the sofa to rest his eyes.
Beside him, Raquel sat gagged, her eyelids fluttering with fatigue, yet she dared not sleep, fearing
she might be taken out by Anna and the others if she let her guard down.
Anna’s gaze swept indifferently over the group before she, too, took a seat, pulling out her phone to
check the time. “It’s almost dawn. Where are Vivienne and Percival? Shouldn’t they be back by
now?”
Draven placed the last switchblade on the table and sighed as if he had finished a monumental
task. He poured himself a cup of water, taking a sip before speaking, “They should be here soon.
Emerald City isn’t far, and even if those guys are tough, it’s no big deal for the boss to bring them
back.”
“Two days till court,” Jerry, now fully rested, said as he rubbed his eyes and emerged from his room.
“Even if they’re a bit delayed, it’s fine. The Abernathys can’t pull any more stunts against the
Littletons at this point.”
“Everything will be settled after the trial.” Thomas opened his eyes slowly, a sense of unease
lingering. “But why do I feel so unsettled?”
The rain continued to patter outside.
Purple lightning streaked across the night sky, and the room flickered with light and shadow,
creating an eerie atmosphere that put everyone on edge.
Thomas couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen weather this severe, but he couldn’t shake the feeling
that something big was about to happen.
Jerry glanced at him. “Don’t jinx us. The online buzz is still brewing, but with our legal summons, the
tide is turning. The Littletons are under our watch; what could possibly go wrong?”
Thomas shook his head, unsure. “Maybe I’m just overthinking…”
“Vivienne! Vivienne!” Before he could finish, Kaitlyn, who had been asleep, suddenly burst out of
her room.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her hands clutching her phone tightly, her frantic gaze sweeping the room
for Vivienne. Not seeing her, she headed for the door.
“Mrs. Littleton!” Anna, who was closest, quickly grabbed Kaitlyn. “Mrs. Littleton, Ms. Vivienne hasn’t
returned yet. Are you looking for her?”
“Yes, yes, I need to find Vivienne,” Kaitlyn stammered, her hands trembling as she held her phone,
“There’s no time! Can you call her, ask her to come back quickly? There’s really no time left!”
“What’s happened?” Thomas asked, a sense of dread filling him.
Jerry cursed inwardly at his earlier premonition and strode over. “Mrs. Littleton, may I see your
phone?”
Kaitlyn had been gripping her phone since the start, and that was where the problem had to be.
He didn’t wait for her consent before reaching out to take it.
Kaitlyn, usually so clear-headed and resilient, was now filled with confusion and helplessness.
She didn’t resist as Jerry took the phone from her hands, murmuring repeatedly about the lack of
time, looking utterly shaken.
“Bastards!”
Jerry’s eyes fell upon the phone, and he couldn’t suppress a curse.
Draven and the others gathered around, and as he stood, he made sure to pocket the switchblades.
“What happened? Who sent Mrs. Littleton a message?”
Jerry turned the phone for everyone to see, and the message from an unknown number was clear
for all to witness.
Anna, who had been comforting Kaitlyn, looked over, and the warmth in her eyes turned ice-cold.
“These people are despicable!”
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“What do we do now?” Thomas clenched his teeth.
Even though he wasn’t Kaitlyn, the message on the phone made his blood boil with rage! Who
would dare threaten someone with their deceased parents’ ashes?
Demanding a trade, or they’d scatter the Littleton’s ashes to the wind?
They had underestimated the depravity of the Abernathy’s!
Draven’s aura was chilling. “I’m calling Young Master right now. We can’t delay any longer. Anna,
make sure Mrs. Littleton is calm.”
The Abernathys had made their move. Within three days, if the secret recipe wasn’t handed over,
they would scatter the Littleton parents’ ashes into the earth.
No wonder Kaitlyn had such a visceral reaction. Such a threat would unsettle anyone! They truly
couldn’t afford to wait any longer!
Vivienne was already on the freeway when she received the call.
In the backseat of the unassuming black Porsche, she glanced at Percival next to her, his features
set in a mask of stoic coldness. She pursed her lips, momentarily at a loss for words of comfort.
The memory of them bursting into the house, guided by Nimue’s roaring voice, and the scene that
met their eyes made Vivienne’s stomach churn.
Just a few hours earlier, she and Percival had stepped into the Abernathys’ townhouse. They were
greeted by the vast living room, void of any furniture, creating an eerie, empty space. Against the
wall stood a folding cot. Next to the cot, there were various medical devices. They weren’t exactly
cutting-edge but seemed to be barely keeping the person on the cot alive.
The closer they approached the woman, the more pungent the smell that invaded their nostrils
became.
When Vivienne reached the bedside, the overpowering stench nearly made her eyes roll back in her
head.
The blanket covering the woman looked like it hadn’t been washed in ages, its original color barely
discernible beneath splotches of black.
Under the cot, the sheet was stained with patches of yellow—some resembled bloodstains, others
something else entirely.
“Is this person still alive?”
