The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think novel Chapter 160

Chapter 160 Do You Have

A Death Wish

Outside the Morgan family’s villa, Thorn stood in the shadows, watching as his associate walked away.

Alone now, he struck a match, igniting the cigarette perched between his fingers.

He intended to strike only after Maren had drifted into deep rest.

She’d recently killed an assassin. Her instincts would be razor–sharp, and acting prematurely could backfire.

The last assassin hadn’t lasted a second.

Thorn could have done the same, but it still showed how powerful Maren was.

Suddenly, Thorn heard some noises–a window creaked open.

Without pause, he flung the cigarette aside, leapt into a nearby dumpster, and slammed the lid down.

Only one villa sat this close, and Maren must have opened the window.

Earlier, Maren had spotted the blind man in hiding at a single glance. Thorn’s flashy red suit? Not ideal for stealth; perfect for getting shot. If she noticed him, the entire mission would unravel.

Seconds ticked by. He cracked the lid just enough to glimpse the villa. Nothing. No silhouette at the pane. He released a breath.

It was merely a routine action of opening the window, and Maren had not discovered anything.

It was likely just for ventilation. The humid season made enclosed spaces unbearable.

Still, he didn’t budge. He’d wait, even in filth, if that’s what success demanded.

At precisely three in the morning, the lid lifted from within. A lone hand emerged. Then Thorn climbed out, unfazed.

“Been ages since anyone made me actually try,” he muttered, brushing dirt off the once–elegant ensemble now ruined by grime. “Tough luck, Maren Morgan. Etch the name Lucien Marshall in your memory. Should’ve been born into a safer world.”

His real name was Lucien Marshall/

Everyone knew Thorn came from/the Marshall family, but no one knew his exact identity and real name.

And Lucien Marshall was actually the firstborn of the Marshall family.

Anyone in Slatinia who heard that name would’ve lost it.

“Smells like hell,” he grumbled. “If she wasn’t so buried in the criminal web, I wouldn’t be diving into

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Chapter 160 Do You Have A Death Wish

dumpsters.”

He clenched his jaw, disgusted by the stench clinging to his body and attire.

A luxury fragrance bottle emerged from his pocket. He sprayed generously.

“Much better.”

Then he gagged. “What the-?”

Disgusted, he hurled it into the darkness.

The mix of perfume and decay was worse than either on its own.

“She’s gonna smell me coming from miles away. This outfit’s history.”

Without hesitation, Lucien peeled off his ruined garments, tossing them aside.

It was sweltering, and he hadn’t worn much.

He peeled off the top layer from both ends, leaving himself dressed only in a pair of snug shorts.

“The quicker I wrap this up, the sooner I can crash at the hotel and rinse off.”

With that in mind, Lucien cut the hesitation. He sprang over the villa’s boundary and landed silently in the yard.

Upon arriving at the entrance, he leaned forward and studied the inside through the pane.

He didn’t act hastily. Not yet.

Lucien circled the residence multiple times, making certain no one stirred. Only Ashton and his sons were

asleep in their rooms.

He gripped the outer wall and scaled it with ease, pulling himself onto the upper–level terrace.

At Maren’s window, he paused. Two figures lay motionless on the mattress. One unmistakably belonged to her.

She was even more stunning than the files suggested.

Shame she was neck–deep in criminal affairs. Otherwise, he’d be tempted to keep her close.

A flicker of remorse crept in.

Thanks to the earlier–opened window, Lucien slipped inside noiselessly.

He padded towards Maren, who lay curled around Isla, deep in slumber.

For a brief moment, Lucien was captivated by her face.

“No way someone that angelic is mob material. Did we get faulty intel?” Lucien hesitated.

He’d encountered vicious thugs before, but this woman didn’t fit the mold. Especially not the way she cradled Isla–tender, protective.