Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1503

The night was chaos incarnate.

Maja couldn't fathom Patric's endgame, but the cacophony of blasts reverberating through the air was a clear indicator that he had rigged explosives across multiple locations.

How much of Eric's memory had he assimilated? These bombs weren't bought; they were handcrafted by the man himself.

Eric was a prodigy with a penchant for the elemental, and for him, crafting bombs was a walk in the park.

Maja furrowed her brows, as she smelled the stench of blood undeniable in the air, mingling with the howls and wails that seemed to ride the waves of the explosions.

Patric's move was merciless, not intended to spare anyone, even the Bradshaws.

She took a deep breath, but found the sulfur hanging heavy and acrid in the air made her stomach churn.

Patric held her close with one arm, while the other hastily wrapped a torn piece of cloth around his bleeding wound.

"Patric, where the hell are you taking me?" Maja's voice was tinged with a mix of fear and confusion.

Why stir up this hornet's nest?

If he wanted to get out, why not just team up with Ian? After all, they had entered this mess together.

Why go to such lengths, planting bombs everywhere?

Was his plan to let Ian die, to throw the Bradshaws into disarray, and to cause an uproar on Forbidden Island so as to make it slipping away in the chaos?

And why take her along? If he had left her behind, he could already be in some safe haven by now.

"Shut up!" Patric barked, as he hoisted her up and trudged forward.

The thick dust in the air choked him and made him cough a bit, and suddenly, faint footsteps caught his attention.

Then, a man's voice cut through the turmoil.

"Hand her over."

It was Ian's voice.

Patric stiffened, half-convinced that he was hallucinating.

Ian was supposed to be at the Bradshaws' tonight, where the bombs were the thickest; he should have been blown to smithereens.

How could he be here?

As the dust settled slightly, Patric could see the figure next to him clearly—it was indeed Ian.

Holding Maja securely, Ian commanded his men.

"Take him. We leave now to pick up Oliver Porter, and then it's off to the South District Mental Hospital on Outer Island."

"Understood, Mr. Raymond."

These were the forces mobilized by the head of the Porter family at Ian's behest, part of his pact with Oliver.

He had promised to get Oliver off Forbidden Island.

Now with Inner Island in disarray and the Bradshaws nearly decimated, no one paid mind to Ian's whereabouts. Everyone was scrambling to investigate the night's explosions.

In the aftermath, Inner Island would be licking its wounds, and too preoccupied to concern itself with Outer Island affairs.

And for that, Ian had Patric's machinations to thank.

Someone approached Patric and helped him to his feet, but Patric could only glare at Ian, consumed with frustration.

He had planned everything perfectly for tonight, by successfully turning Timothy and trapping the so-called elder and Ian at the Bradshaws.

He had planted bombs all over Inner Island, but somewhere, somehow, it had all gone wrong.