“I’m fine. Please tell Carter to send me the number. I need to call Ace, Duncan. He’s in danger! Arthur is planning to kill him. Please help me. Give me Mr. Balakin’s phone number!”

The knot of fear and anxiety only became worse in my chest.

Where are you, Ace? Just stay safe.

“Emerald, listen to me. Stop wherever you’re going. Ace is going to be all right—”

“You don’t understand!” I snapped, frustrated. “He’s in danger—”

My phone buzzed.

Checking it, I found a message from an unknown number.

Desperately, as I opened the message, a small text awaited me.

You got lucky. But he didn’t.

I stomped on the brake. The car came to the screeching stop in the middle of the street. Something churned in my stomach. An ill feeling rose in my throat.

My mobile vibrated again. This time, a video message.

With trembling fingers, I played the video.

It was a video shot from a distance. Across the open field, a car passed through the empty street.

Ragged breath came out of me. My palms turned clammy as perspiration rolled down my forehead. My heart pounded in my chest.

I knew the car very well.

A huge truck sped through the field out of nowhere and drove directly to the black car, hitting it from the side. With the severity of the hit, the car flipped and rolled over the road, the center of it got crushed with the blow. A fire immediately set on the back. Black smoke surrounded the car.

My heart stopped. Breath caught in my throat. The mobile slipped from my hands as I went numb.

A feeling of nothingness swept over me.

My world spun, and my vision blurred while a deafening silence rang in my ears as darkness slowly consumed me.

SEVENTY-TWO: THE MASTER PLAN

Across the open field, a black car I knew all too well passed through the empty road.

Then a truck sped through the field, going directly to the car.

I tensed. The rate of my heartbeat peaked. I had to stop it.

But when I opened my mouth to yell his name, nothing came out. My body didn’t move. Panic set in when I attempted to open my eyes, but they didn’t move either.

I watched as the truck neared the car at full speed. It was going to hit it!

A desperation to stop it rolled inside, making me restless. I wanted to move, but my body was paralyzed. I couldn’t move no matter how much I wanted to.

I wanted to scream, thrash, to be set free from whatever that held me back. I wanted to stop that truck. But all I could do was watch as the truck hit the car with such force that it flew across the road, flipping over, a fire immediately set on it.