Chapter 613

Chapter 613:

With this troubling thought, Ashton acted swiftly upon his return to Carter Manor.

The moment he stepped in, he reached out to Milena. “Milena, is it possible for you to fabricate text messages?” he asked bluntly.

Without hesitation, Milena answered, “I can liaise with the telecommunications provider and can even erect a covert communications tower if needed.”

“I’ll send you a contact number shortly,” Ashton instructed firmly. “Impersonate Fraser and command this person to arrive at the second reception room of Carter Manor by 11 tonight. Should he fail to comply, he’ll face severe repercussions.”

“Ashton, are you absolutely certain Craig will actually show up?” Abrial asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and skepticism as she glanced at him, eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt.

The night was deep, its shadows stretching long and silent as the clock inched toward eleven. Carter Manor, a sprawling fortress of quiet, had succumbed to the weight of slumber, the hushed stillness outside the reception room echoing like the calm before a storm.

Ashton flashed a knowing grin. “Of course, I can’t say for sure. But if you ask him straight out, he’ll never admit the truth. So, why not sit tight and see if the fish takes the bait?”

Before Abrial could voice another thought, the words caught in her throat. Both of them froze, their senses suddenly sharp, like animals in the wild hearing a twig snap.

At that moment, they heard footsteps approaching from outside the door.

The door creaked open, and there he was—Craig, wearing that devil-may-care grin that had always made him seem a few steps ahead of everyone else. But the moment his eyes landed on Ashton and Abrial, the grin faltered, replaced by a sudden rigidity.

It was like a trap snapping shut. Even a fool could tell he’d walked straight into one. Craig’s smug confidence vanished in an instant, replaced by the flicker of panic that crossed his face. He made a swift, desperate motion to turn and flee.

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But Ashton was faster than lightning. In a flash, two silver needles cut through the air, slicing with precision. One struck the back of Craig’s head, the other his cervical spine—his body locking up as if he’d been turned to stone, muscles frozen in place, his feet unwilling to move.

“You damn Ashton!” Craig’s voice was a growl, his words dripping with venom. “What have you done to me? Let me go!”

Ashton ignored him completely, grabbing the back of Craig’s collar and hauling him to the center of the room. With a forceful shove, he pressed Craig into a chair.

“What are you planning?” Craig’s voice quivered in a mix of panic and defiance. “If you lay a finger on me, I’ll scream for help!”

Abrial spoke first, her tone sharp yet controlled. “Now, you have the opportunity to come clean about everything—the Dark Night Organization, your ties with Fraser. Cooperate, and we might show mercy.”

Craig’s eyes flickered with unmistakable panic, but he quickly masked it, feigning confusion. “What Dark Night Organization?”

“Who’s Fraser? I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What do you want from me?”

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