Chapter 349

Evelyn leaned against the window frame, her gaze fixed on the approaching vehicle. A black sedan emerged from the shadows, its paint dull and chipped, making it blend seamlessly into the night.

The car screeched to a halt outside the cabin, kicking up dust.

The door flung open, and a man practically tumbled out, sprinting toward the entrance. "Viktor! Dmitri!" His voice was frantic, desperate.

Evelyn tilted her head, studying him. She didn’t need to guess—his panic was obvious.

"Oh," she murmured, almost amused, before glancing down with a faint smile.

The man stood beneath the flickering porch light, pounding on the door. "You morons! Open up! Don’t you want your damn money?!"

That nagging tone, that familiar silhouette—Evelyn recognized him instantly.

Lucien Dubois.

Of course.

But aligning himself with these criminals? That was a new low, even for him.

"Stay quiet," she hissed at the three bound kidnappers, then descended the creaky stairs, knife in hand.

Hearing movement inside, Lucien’s shouts grew louder. "Viktor! Ivan! Hurry the hell up!"

Evelyn gripped the doorknob, swinging it open and stepping aside.

Lucien barged in, barely looking. "Took you long enough—"

Then he froze.

His eyes bulged as they landed on her. Before he could bolt, Evelyn’s foot slammed into his chest.

Crack.

The impact sent him flying backward, crashing into furniture. Wood splintered, chairs toppled, and Lucien landed in a heap, gasping.

"Y-You—" He wheezed, disbelief twisting his face. "How are you—?"

"Still alive?" Evelyn twirled the knife, its blade glinting under the dim light. "Disappointed?"

"Dmitri! Viktor!" Lucien scrambled backward, his voice cracking.

Evelyn smirked. "Miss them? I can reunite you."

Lucien lurched to his feet, bolting for the door—

But Evelyn didn’t chase.

Instead, she kicked a wooden stool into her hands and hurled it.

Thud.

The stool struck his spine. Lucien choked, blood spraying from his lips as he collapsed.

Evelyn strolled over, clicking her tongue. "Brittle bones, aren’t you?" She crouched beside him, tilting her head. "Now. Tell me. What exactly did you plan to do with me?"

"I—I—" Lucien wheezed, clutching his ribs.

She’d beaten him before, but this? This was different.

"Who the hell are you?!" he spat.

No way she was just a perfumer. No way.

Evelyn’s grin widened. "Guess."