Yasmin's eyes gleamed with a fierce, cold light as she swiftly raised her hand, pointing the gun straight at the intruding man.
Just as she was about to pull the trigger, the man moved with lightning speed, delivering a spinning kick that sent the gun flying
from her hand, causing a cold sweat to break out on her forehead out of pain.
Without catching her breath, Yasmin immediately grabbed a fruit knife from the coffee table and lunged at him, aiming the blade
straight at his chest.
The two engaged in fierce and thrilling hand-to-hand combat.
Yasmin's combat skills were impressive after receiving special training since childhood in close-quarter combat techniques used by
professional assassins.
However, after a dozen exchanges, she found herself struggling against this devilishly skilled man.
He was like a killing machine. Several of his moves nearly caught her off guard and could have easily ended her life.
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“Ugh-!"
The man quickly found an opening in Yasmin's defenses, countered her attack, and twisted her arm to snatch the fruit knife from
her grip. He then delivered a brutal kick to her back, sending her sprawling.
But that was not enough. To ensure Yasmin could not defend herself any further, he plunged the knife into her left leg.
“You're not from the Hoffman Group. No one there has skills like yours!”
The excruciating pain clouded Yasmin’s vision. But even in this state, she did not cry out or beg for mercy. Instead, she gritted her
teeth while her entire body was trembling from the pain.
“Who sent you here...? Who are you with?!”
In response to her questioning, Jace remained silent.
Sparing words and working efficiently were hallmarks of a professional assassin.
Although the soundproofing in the villa was excellent, the commotion still woke Carrie up.
She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up. But by then, it was all quiet downstairs.
It was as if what she had heard earlier was just an illusion.
Carrie put on her coat, clutching her teddy bear tightly with her slender arms, and began to walk downstairs.
“Yasmin? Yasmin?”
As she reached the middle of the stairs, she gasped in shock.
Yasmin was nowhere to be seen.
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In her place was Jace, casually sitting on the sofa, peeling an apple with the fruit knife.
“W-Who are you?” Carrie's breath hitched, and her slender, fair legs trembled slightly.
Jace raised his eyes coldly, glancing at the pretty girl, his eyes devoid of emotion.
“Are you Ms. Carrie Salvador?”
Carrie stood frozen, unable to move or speak.
But her silence only served as confirmation of Jace’s question.
Carrie's clear, doe eyes were filled with fear and confusion as she stiffly shook her head.
“Where's Yasmin?” Carrie fixed her eyes on him, her hand behind her back already swiping her phone screen open.
“Don’t move, Ms. Carrie.”