Secrets Of The Neglected Wife

Chapter 813:

The remainder of the journey unfolded in silence. Leaning her head against the window, Allison’s gaze lingered on the shadows dancing across the dark streets, her mind wandering to Kellan, Gordon, and Amya. Before long, the car glided to a stop in front of her apartment.

“Alice, please take care,” the driver offered warmly as she exited.

“Thanks,” she replied, her hand on the door handle. He watched her disappear into the elevator before driving off.

Just as he rounded the corner, the elevator doors whispered open again. Allison stepped back into the lobby, her face a mask of stoic calm.

“Amya,” she murmured.

Her earpiece buzzed to life. “Ms. Clarke, I’ve been here waiting. Good to hear from you.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

She strode over to the parking lot and paused before a nondescript red sedan. “This the car?” she asked into the earpiece.noveldrama

“Yep, the key’s behind the left front tire,” Amya’s voice crackled back.

This emergency getaway car, a gift from Kellan since her move, was meant for nights just like this. Bending down, Allison retrieved the key and slid into the driver’s seat, navigating her way to the white rental building on autopilot.

In the dimly lit basement, Amya awaited anxiously. Her relief was almost tangible as Allison approached.

“Ms. Clarke, you made it back okay!”

Allison gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “What’s the situation?”

“This way,” Amya urged, leading her to a screen showing live surveillance from the lab.

The monitor displayed a grim scene: numerous test subjects, bound tightly as if mummified, were being hoisted into trucks — humanity packaged as cargo.

“Based on what we’ve gathered, Verruckt has probably handed over half of the test subjects to the Immortality Group, but Lilian, the key subject, wasn’t among them.” Amya switched the surveillance feed to focus on the lab’s workstation area as she continued her briefing. “It looks like Verruckt took her to a more secure facility. He’s the only one who can access it; the researchers don’t have clearance.”

“The only one,” Allison echoed, pondering the implications. “Could it be the fingerprint lock?”

Amya nodded affirmatively. “Exactly, it’s a fingerprint system. Verruckt uses his own prints for all high-security locks. The man trusts no one but himself.”

“He really does play his cards close to his chest,” Allison remarked, her thoughts racing.

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