The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Contacting Her Subordinate

Maren turned with a cold look towards Wilbur, leaving him with a stark warning. "Keep your distance. Lay a hand on me again, and you'll regret it."

Her nonchalant delivery made the threat of violence seem almost mundane to her.

Having said her piece, Maren disregarded the stunned expressions around her and walked on.

No one attempted to stop her progress; the shock of her demeanor left them immobile.

Wilbur remained where he stood, eyes locked on Maren's departing back. It was in this moment that he sensed a profound change in her. Could her newfound combat skills be the reason?

Nadia observed Wilbur's intense focus on Maren and moved closer, gently grasping his arm.

In a soothing tone, she suggested, "Maren really crossed the line this time. To think she'd resort to a surprise attack just to catch your eye."

While Nadia aimed to comfort Wilbur, her words inadvertently reinforced a certain idea.

Right! The surprise move must have had something off about it. Maren must have employed some deceitful tactic to disgrace him publicly. How else could someone of her caliber have overpowered him?

"Ha, that c**sed woman used underhanded methods. It's the only explanation for why my arm went numb," Wilbur muttered, finding solace in his conclusion.

It made sense now; a nobody like her couldn't have just changed overnight. Perhaps he had given it too much thought.

He whispered, "To think you'd stoop so low just to capture my attention, Maren. Well, let's see how long you can maintain this charade. Don't expect mercy or a second glance from me, even if you come begging for forgiveness!"

...

On the other hand, Maren was indifferent to Wilbur's opinions of her.

Since she had regained her memories, Wilbur had diminished to the status of a mere acquaintance.

Her main priority was to uncover who was in charge of Sovereign Underworld currently.

She was resolved to take back what was hers and to deal with the traitors who had "ended" her once.

To those betrayers, she had likely been long forgotten, presumed dead after her disappearance.

A determined spark ignited in Maren's eyes.

She strolled into an internet cafe and turned on the computer.

Her hands moved swiftly across the keyboard, expertly navigating to a secure site and signing into her confidential account.

Within her list of contacts, she quickly located someone known as "Blue Falcon."

Maren quickly typed out her message and pressed send.

Almost immediately, Blue Falcon responded, "Maren, is that really you? Are you still alive?"

Maren was comforted to see Blue Falcon's characteristic enthusiasm, recognizing the same vibrant spirit as before.

The Sovereign Underworld had likely seen a slew of changes during her two-year lapse in memory.

A lot could happen in two years.

While she was eager to learn about the current situation within the Sovereign Underworld, Maren hesitated to reach out to her old allies there.

Given her own narrow escape from an assassination attempt, she doubted their situations were any safer.

Blue Falcon was one of the few she felt safe communicating with. He was an outsider to the Sovereign Underworld and unknown to Nikolas.

This was enough reassurance for now.

Blue Falcon had informed her that Stormclaw had managed to escape from the Sovereign Underworld and was now hiding in a military academy.

Holding back her rage, Maren realized that she couldn't pursue vengeance on her own, especially since she no longer had the support of her previous allies.

To find Nikolas and free Isla, she would need to muster all her resources.

Amidst the shadows of the evening, Maren made her way back home.

...

Unbeknownst to Maren, the night was set to unfold with unexpected events.

As dawn approached, a plane touched down quietly at the airport.

A convoy of black vehicles waited by the airport road, surrounded by service personnel, all highly skilled and alert.

The moment a man clad in a black trench coat exited the airport, the security detail saluted him respectfully.

"Welcome back, sir."

The man in the trench coat remained silent. He carefully pulled out a photograph from his pocket, his normally stern gaze softening momentarily.

"Is she truly here?" he inquired, his tone devoid of emotion.

Without hesitation, his attendant presented a document.

"Sir, the Morgan family reunited with their long-lost daughter two years ago. Both her appearance and name precisely match Maren. We are certain this time."

As he compared the photograph in his hand to the details in the document, a smile that was both authoritative and intriguing spread across his face.

He whispered, "Maren, I've finally found you. This time, you won't slip away from me again."