Chapter 350

"You have no right to interrogate me. Speak! What do you want from me?"

Evelyn demanded, pressing her boot harder into Lucien's back.

"I—I—"

Lucien gasped, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he exhaled. He had nothing left to lose—no pride, no fear. So he confessed.

"Who sent you? Vanessa? Dominic? Or someone else?"

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, increasing the pressure on his spine.

If it were those two, she could handle them herself.

But if it were someone else… she needed to be cautious. Their motives were unknown.

"No one sent me!" Lucien coughed, his voice ragged. "I just wanted to ruin you! You’re nothing but a discarded toy of Dominic Reeves. Who do you think you are, refusing me? I’ll make sure you—"

Before he could finish, Evelyn lifted her foot and slammed it down again, forcing another choked gasp from him. "Pathetic."

He’s a disgrace to perfumers everywhere.

Disgust twisted in her gut as she kept him pinned, ensuring he couldn’t rise. A glance at her watch told her the police would arrive soon.

She had called them the moment she opened the door for Lucien.

Even without an exact address, she had given them enough to find her.

She couldn’t let filth like him walk free.

"You think just because you can fight, you’ll succeed in this industry?" Lucien wheezed, rolling onto his back, his face smeared with blood. "You’ll never make it here. Never. People like you—from your country—are at the bottom. You’ll always be beneath us."

"Beneath you?" Evelyn’s voice was ice.

Her gaze flickered from his bleeding face to the space between his legs.

Revulsion surged as she remembered his intentions. Without hesitation, she stomped down—hard.

"GAH!"

Lucien curled into himself, writhing, his hands clutching at the source of his agony.

"Disgusting," Evelyn spat, stepping back.

But then—her instincts screamed.

She twisted left just as a bullet whizzed past her ear.

"Move! Kill her! Don’t let her escape!"

The voice belonged to Viktor Petrov, roaring from the staircase. Gunfire erupted, bullets tearing through the air.

Evelyn barely dodged, diving behind an overturned table.

He recovered too fast.

Two years without proper combat training had dulled her reflexes. She was still shaking off the rust.

A mistake.

She should’ve been more thorough.

Another voice joined Viktor’s—Ivan Volkov, the one-eyed bastard she’d tied up earlier.

Only Dmitri, the driver, remained unconscious in the room.

"Come out, you bitch! I’ll put a bullet between your eyes!" Viktor screamed, firing wildly.

Lucien, still groaning on the floor, dragged himself behind a wooden plank, laughing weakly. "You’re finished, Evelyn!"

Evelyn, however, remained eerily calm.

She assessed the room through the gap between furniture.

Then she smiled.

"Actually… you’re the ones who won’t walk away."

Just as she prepared to strike—

BOOM.

A deafening explosion rocked the building.