Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 22

Edward still felt a deep sense of gratitude welling up inside him. If anything had happened to Mr. Arron while under his watch, there would have been no excuse or way to explain it. “Hey, boy, what’s your name?” the old man asked, his voice tinged with warmth despite his weakened state.

Lillian met Mr. Arron’s gaze steadily, unshaken by his presence. “I’m Lillian Harrington,” she replied calmly.

A chuckle escaped Mr. Arron’s lips. “Well, Lillian, today you saved my life. From now on, if you ever need anything in Solara, don’t hesitate to come find me.”

Though still frail, Mr. Arron was carefully helped into a waiting ambulance to receive a thorough medical examination. Meanwhile, in front of the gathered crowd, Ella made a firm promise to get to the bottom of the mysterious incident that had unfolded that night.

Hearing Ella’s vow, a cold sweat broke out on Mia’s forehead, and a chill ran down her spine, her back drenched with fear.

Since Lillian had plans early the following day, she bid Ella farewell. Ethan had offered to walk her home, but she declined politely; she preferred to avoid inviting any further complications into her life.

Stepping out of the hotel, Lillian was greeted by the crisp, cool night air. A gentle breeze stirred the hem of her dress as she leisurely walked down the quiet streets, inhaling the fresh scent of the night. It was a rare moment of peace in an otherwise chaotic world.

As she wandered through a maze of narrow alleys, a faint metallic scent suddenly hit her nose—blood.

Her previously relaxed expression hardened instantly.

Following the scent, Lillian arrived at the entrance of a dimly lit alley, where the stench of garbage mixed unpleasantly with the unmistakable tang of blood hanging in the air.

“Ryan Morgan, you’ve really messed with the wrong people,” a sneering voice taunted. “Someone wants you dead. We’re just here doing our job—paid to take out the trash.”

Laughter echoed off the grimy walls.

Bathed in pale moonlight, Lillian could make out a group of men clad in black, their hands gripping long knives as they circled a solitary figure lying on the ground.

The man on the ground glared up at them with fierce, dangerous eyes. “You better kill me tonight. Because if you don’t, one day, I’ll make sure you’re the ones who die.”

His words only sparked another round of cruel laughter.

“Did you hear that? He actually wants us to kill him!” one of the gang jeered.

“Oh no, I’m terrified,” mocked another with heavy sarcasm. “Tell me, how exactly do you plan to get your revenge?”

One thug delivered a brutal kick to Ryan’s stomach, forcing him to cough up blood. “You fucking bastard, you dare threaten us?” he snarled, following up with a barrage of punches and kicks.

The others stood around, laughing and enjoying the brutal spectacle.

Suddenly, sharp applause rang out, breaking the tension. The gang froze, their eyes darting toward the shadowed entrance of the alley.

But Lillian remained perfectly composed. With a subtle shift of her body, she effortlessly dodged the flying blade. In a single, fluid motion, she delivered a sharp kick that sent the attacker sprawling across the alley floor.

The other men gasped in disbelief.

She’s a fighter!

“Don’t just stand there! Finish her off!” the leader barked.

The gang surged forward in unison.

Lillian’s eyes flashed with icy determination. As they lunged, she struck first.

A rapid succession of punches and kicks followed—swift, precise, and devastating.

Within moments, every thug lay groaning on the ground, nursing their wounds.

Looking down at the defeated men, Lillian’s lips curved into a mocking smile.

“So,” she said with a teasing tone, “was doing it the hard way as fun as you hoped? I hope you enjoyed the show.”