The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think novel Chapter 133

Chapter 133 Hurt Herself

The storage bay was cloaked in pitch black, preventing the man from spotting Maren immediately.

As he brushed past a towering stack, a sudden clatter made him spin. The entire container toppled, aimed.

straight at him.

“Shit!” he cursed, lunging sideways.

He narrowly escaped as the crate smashed into the floor where he’d been moments before.

That could’ve turned him into a bloody smear.

A jagged section of the shattered crate cracked open, revealing several women.

There were half a dozen, maybe more

None of them stirred.

Maren spotted something unnatural in their skin tone.

Pale Almost bluish.

There was no doubt–they’d been poisoned.

Each one had been rendered mute by a chemical haze, which explained the silence in the hold.

What about Isla?

Isla wasn’t just another victim. Her importance made her a special case. Was she poisoned too?

Considering how closely Isla was tied to Maren, the Sovereign Underworld would’ve taken extra precautions. Toxins were the most probable route.

Every time Maren pictured the torture Isla might have endured, it felt like her ribs were being carved open.

Her chest burned, but her expression remained cold as stone. She approached the man. Just as he began to rise, Maren struck–her heel slamming into his most defenseless spot.

“Ah!” A scream ripped from his lungs/He crumpled, his strength extinguished. A slow trickle of blood spread below him, his face twisted in a grotesque snarl of pain.

“I warned you,” Maren said coolly, towering over him like an executioner addressing vermin.

“Bitch! I’ll gut you!” he spat, summoning the last of his will.

But it was over. With

fight left in him

mis core shattered, it didn’t matter who he used to be. The man was finished. He had no

Without hesitation, Maren turned her back on him, and began prying open every crate in the hold.

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Chapter 133 Hurt Herself

She had one objective: to find Isla.

The first was empty.

The second, nothing.

The third, still nothing.

The fourth…

The ninth…

Maren didn’t pause. She raced to the other level, breaking into the final batch. No sign.

“This doesn’t make sense. Could she be stashed elsewhere?”

Her intel had to be right.

Maren finally located Agate. She was alive and uninjured but had clearly been poisoned. She lay unconscious, her body limp.

“Where is Isla?”

Maren marched back to the man, snatching his weapon and brandishing it above him in a clear threat.

He had no plans to respond–until Maren mentioned Isla. Then something shifted in him. Even through the agony etched across his features, his expression faltered.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Isla belonged to the Sovereign Underworld–a hidden figure shielded for years beneath Maren’s watch. Only elite members knew of her existence. Outsiders had no way of knowing who she was.

“That’s not your concern,” Maren replied, her tone like ice. “Tell me where she is.”

“If Isla’s who you want, you’re wasting your time here. She’d never be anywhere near this dump. Try the Sovereign Underworld.” The man feigned ignorance.

Maren pulled a phone from her coat–Slasher’s. She shoved the screen in his face, displaying a list. “Then explain this.”

His eyes widened. “How did you get that?” he growled, panic leaking into his voice.

Now he had no choice but to truly look at her–the woman who had just torn through his defenses.

“Who the hell are you? You seriously picked a fight with the Sovereign Underworld?” He didn’t need an answer. The evidence was in her hands. “You must’ve killed one of ours.”

Maren didn’t flinch. “Take a wild guess.”

“You’re with Nikolas, aren’t you?”

It was the only theory that clicked. Why else would Maren be so desperate to reach Isla?

“You’ve got nerve. We’ve been dying to track your people down. And you just waltz in here like this? You think you’re getting out alive?”

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Chapter 133 Hurt Herself

“Whether I survive or not doesn’t matter. But if you don’t tell me where she is, you won’t make it out.” Maren raised the axe and drew it across his neck, not deep–just enough to send a message.

“You think I’m the type to grovel?” the man sneered.

Unlike anyone Maren had crossed paths with before, this man radiated defiance. Even as blood trickled from the gash in his neck, he didn’t retreat an inch.

She’d run into one of the resilient ones.

It wasn’t exactly shocking. The Sovereign Underworld wasn’t filled with bottom–feeders like those pathetic. thugs from the Angels of Death.

Only the most brutal and unflinching earned a place in the Sovereign Underworld. Without the right instruments, extracting information from one of them was a near–hopeless task.

“So, what’s the plan now? You going to walk away?” The man understood his upper hand. Nothing Maren did would make him spill a word.

“If you’re dying to find out, then undress and entertain me. Maybe I’ll toss you a clue.”

He didn’t get to finish as a jet of red burst from his throat.

Maren didn’t pause–she let the axe fly, taking his head clean off.

“Pointless. You’re better off dead.”

Her only lead had vanished.

If she wanted to track down Isla, she’d have to go after another member of the Sovereign Underworld.

Maren stayed put. She settled into a corner, her breath calm, her face impossible to read.

She was waiting for another member from the Sovereign Underworld to surface.

“This is the only method.”

With her jaw tight and her grip firm, Maren brought the axe down on her own leg–without flinching.

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