Chapter 599: Confrontation
He shouted back, louder than her tantrum.
"What?!"
Ethan’s bellow worked like a charm. Amber snapped shut, silent in an instant, like a dog cowed by its master’s glare.
Two voices spoke through the comm line at once.
"Amber, hurry up and tell us what Lyla said to you!"
This time Melody Quinn managed to speak before Ethan could.
For a moment there was only dead air. Just as Ethan was about to push her, he heard Amber inhale shakily, then finally speak.
"Lyla called me asking why she couldn’t reach Aunt Melody’s phone."
She stopped there. Ethan immediately pulled up Lyla’s outgoing call log. Sure enough, right before contacting Amber, she had dialed another number again and again. All of them had gone straight to voicemail—line busy.
"I saw that," Melody said quickly. "I was on another call, dealing with Kiara’s situation. The second I hung up, I was about to call Lyla back when you rang me!"
"What happened next?" Ethan pressed her.
"I told her Aunt Melody was probably busy. I didn’t mention Kiara. Then Lyla hesitated, and she asked if something had happened to Kiara. I thought Aunt Melody had already told her, so I said Kiara had gone missing two days ago. Lyla didn’t say much else, only that she would help..." Amber trailed off, her voice thinning.
"Did she say she’d help bring Kiara back?" Ethan demanded.
"Uh... yes. Lyla said she would bring her back. Does that mean she knows where Kiara is?"
It was only then that Amber seemed to realize what her own words meant.
"You idiot, you’re only figuring that out now?" Ethan snapped.
"I..." For once Amber had no retort.
"Aunt Melody, how did Kiara disappear?" Ethan asked into the comm.
Melody drew a breath, her voice trembling. "Two days ago, Kiara went on her graduation cruise. The school took them to Crescent State, then chartered a boat to the Siren Islands for a sea tour. I got a call from her teacher—Kiara was gone. None of the ship’s cameras showed her falling overboard. She just... vanished. Then—" Melody broke off, her throat catching.
"Don’t worry, Aunt Melody. Tell me the rest," Ethan urged, his gut tight. He could feel the next detail would matter.
"Then I sent people to investigate Crescent State. They found something. On the second day after Kiara vanished—yesterday—she appeared in a small restaurant with a strange man, eating fried noodles. From the footage, it was clear something was wrong with her. Her eyes, her expression... I believe she was being controlled. When I heard the news, I rushed to that noodle shop. But in less than ten minutes someone had already deleted the surveillance video from the system. Fortunately, one of my people had managed to snap a picture with their phone, though it was blurry. Still, I could tell—it was Kiara."
Amber suddenly cut in. "Wait, you’re saying your people were watching the restaurant, and the footage got erased without anyone even touching the system?"
Ethan’s knuckles tightened on the mech’s controls. "That’s exactly what happened?"
"Yes," Amber confirmed.
"Then find your person right now and get me that photo," Ethan ordered, his tone sharp. The situation had just leapt into another realm entirely.
Amber bristled instantly. "You’re ordering me around? Ethan, you worthless piece of trash, how dare you?"
"Damn right I’m ordering you. What are you going to do about it? I’d like to slap some sense into you while I’m at it."
Just the sound of her voice made his blood boil. It wasn’t that it was grating—it was sharp, almost musical, but somehow that only made it worse.
"You want to slap me? As if you could reach me. Go on then, I dare you! I called you worthless trash, and I’ll say it again—"
"Holy hell... fine. Just wait for me!"
Ethan’s rage burned so hot it almost spilled over, then suddenly broke into laughter. Instead of throttling the comm, he shoved the mech’s controls, gunning the engines. The single-soldier combat frame pivoted sharply in mid-air, thrusters roaring as he turned toward Crescent Isle’s luxury villa district.
Even before the shouting match with Amber, he had already chosen to head back. His original destination had been the first site of Lyla’s Shadowstrike mission. Now Ethan was convinced she had stumbled across something there, some clue that tied directly to Kiara Quinn. That was why she had called Amber.
But the moment Amber’s taunts and unreasonable demands hit him, Ethan snapped. He wrenched the mech around and gunned straight toward her location.
"Stop fighting, both of you. Right now—"
Crash! Shatter!
Melody’s attempt to mediate cut off as a thunderous crash erupted on the other end of the line, followed by the sharp tinkling of glass raining down.
"Ah..." Melody’s voice faltered, stunned.
Then came the crack of a hand across skin, loud enough for Melody to hear through the comm.
Slap!
"Ethan... how dare you hit me..." Amber’s voice trembled, raw with disbelief.
Melody sat frozen. Ethan had actually... gone to her house?
Another strike rang out.
Slap!
"What’s wrong with hitting you? I’ve wanted to since the first day I met you! I only held back out of respect for Lyla. But after that ridiculous demand, how could I not oblige?" Ethan’s voice was cold, almost satisfied.
Inside Amber’s villa, the top-floor glass ceiling bore a massive hole where Ethan’s mech had smashed through. The combat unit hovered above in stealth, while Ethan himself had already stepped out.
Amber, clad only in a bathrobe, lay pinned beneath him. Two sharp slaps had already marked her pale cheeks with crimson, though there was no swelling—Ethan had measured his strength. If he hadn’t, her face would have been ruined.
Amber struggled furiously. "I’ll fight you to the death!"
Yet in his grip she was powerless, her usual strength useless against the iron force holding her by the throat. She thrashed like a bird caught in a snare.
She tried a low kick at his groin, vicious and precise. Ethan clamped his legs together, trapping her strike, then shoved her fully onto the table. Her body sprawled across it, helpless.
He swung himself up after her, pinning her beneath his weight. His knees pressed her legs down; his hand clamped both her wrists against her chest. Amber lay stretched out across the tabletop, every movement restrained.
"You think you can play dirty tricks on me?" His words came low, rough.
Slap!
"Still want to play games?"
Slap!
"I’ll teach you what comes of mocking me."
Slap!
"And of your little disguises..."
Slap!
Each sentence came with a strike, his hand falling rhythmically against her reddening face. His control was absolute, his anger venting in precise blows.
Amber glared back at him, her eyes burning with defiance. She didn’t scream, didn’t beg, only pressed her lips together and endured in silence.
The more she refused to yield, the harder his hand came down. He lost track of the count. Then, suddenly, her fierce stare wavered. Her eyes reddened, her body trembled beneath him.
For a heartbeat Ethan thought she was about to cry. Some rational part of his mind told him he’d gone far enough—but his hand still fell twice more.
Slap! Slap!
Then Amber’s body arched violently, her back bowing off the table. A strange sound tore from her throat.
Ethan froze, his raised hand suspended in the air.
"What the hell... is she having a seizure?"
He stared in shock as Amber convulsed. His pulse lurched, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing.
Then her body shuddered once more, and Ethan’s eyes widened.
"Holy hell..."
He stumbled back, leaping off the table as if burned, his chest heaving. His gaze locked on the figure before him, his expression caught between disbelief and something far stranger.
This is bad.
How could it come to this?