Unstoppable Unforgiven (Shermaine and Joshua)

Chapter 569

But if that were really true, he wouldn’t have fought so hard to survive.

Molly had always been the reason he kept going.

But now, he was a werewolf. Whatever dreams he once had of being with her were gone. Someone like him could never be part of her life again. It would only put her in danger.

Roy didn’t hope for much anymore. All he wanted was to catch a glimpse of her in Ustrana. Even if he had to spend the rest of his life watching from afar, silently protecting her, he’d accept that fate without complaint.

As for his family, he couldn’t bring himself to face them. His mother was gentle and fragile. If she saw what her son had turned into a beast, he wasn’t sure she’d survive the shock.

Two years had passed already. Maybe they’d all just assumed he was dead.

A train roared past. Roy sprang from the tall grass and landed on one of the cars without hesitation.

He was going to Ustrana. Even if he could only watch her from the shadows, he had to know Molly was still living her life.

After regaining her composure, Molly once again put her siblings on alert.

With Bruce quietly supporting her behind the scenes, she was not a force to be underestimated.

Yet even Bruce had been preoccupied lately. Ever since the immortality project began two years prior, he’d been determined to eliminate the old man behind it.

But the man had proven elusive, vanishing after withdrawing from Wallington, constantly on the move, and hiring the most elite mercenary group in Epea for protection. Killing him was no longer a feasible option.

His so–called immortality project was, unsurprisingly, about prolonging life. He had no intention of dying anytime soon.

What had become of him now, no one could say.

Still, if someone managed to turn the tables on Bruce, Molly would lose a powerful ally.

In the hospital room, Molly stood beside the bed, looking down at the frail, sallow–faced old man.

The doctor had said he only had a few days left.

Fred opened his eyes and smiled faintly. “You came, Momo.”

“I heard you’re not doing well,” she said. “Thought I’d stop by.”

Her words drew immediate criticism from her Siblings, who found her tone callous.

Fred, however, seemed unfazed. “At my age, there’s no fighting nature. The fact that you came means… well, maybe you still see me as your father. That’s enough for me.”

Molly gave a slight scoff. People always said she was his favorite, but she had never felt particularly cherished. From childhood, Fred had demanded perfection in everything she did. Even the smallest mistake came with a consequence.

Fortunately, she had always been strong–willed. Long before Fred imposed standards, she held herself to even higher ones.

“My friend’s back,” she said after a moment. “If you can hang on a bit longer, I’ll bring her to take a look at you.””

Fred’s eyes lit up slightly. “Shermaine?”

“Who else? It’s not like I’ve got many close friends.”

“And her husband?”

“He’s back too.”

Fred didn’t press further.

Molly hadn’t come only to check on him. “Have you

you chosen

a successor yet?”

It was a question no one else dared to ask, but Molly never hesitated.

Fred replied simply, “My lawyer will announce it after I’m gone

”

That day came sooner than expected. A week later, Fred passed away.

After the funeral, his lawyer released the will, dividing the estate generously among the children and wives, while declaring Molly as the sole heir to the Hill family legacy.

She was the first female head of the Hill family in over a century.

The others received wealth enough to last a lifetime, but all actual power was stripped from them and transferred to Molly.

And with that power came peril.

If she were to die, the will would be rendered void. A new successor could be named.

At the funeral, Molly wore a sharp black suit, a gray scarf draped around her shoulders, and held a single bouquet.

The ceremony was lavish, with over a hundred bodyguards assigned solely to protect her.

News of Fred Hill’s death, leader of Ustrana’s most powerful family, had spread across the nation.

Shermaine had heard as well.

Molly was headed into stormy waters. Shermaine had planned to travel to Ustrana eventually, but now, it seemed she would have to leave sooner than expected.

In Loang, rain fell steadily. The sky hung low and heavy with fog, and the streets were nearly empty.

After the funeral, Molly was scheduled to make visits to each branch of the family’s business empire. Hillary insisted on accompanying her.

Molly thought it unnecessary and potentially risky.

But Hillary was determined. Perhaps she believed that now Molly was the family’s new matriarch, some of that glory might spill over onto her.

Molly stared out the window, her mind heavy with a yague, nagging restlessness. She reached into her bag, pulled out a cigarette, rolled the window down, and lit it.

As the flame flickered to life, her eyes lingered on the lighter, softening with a touch of longing.

Roy had given it to her before everything went to hell. He knew that when the world felt too loud, she reached for a cigarette.

One side of the lighter bore an engraving of a blooming rose, and the other name, Momo.

Then suddenly, a sharp slam of brakes, jarring and violent. The lighter slipped from her hand and flew out the window.

214

Her expression went cold in an instant. Without hesitation, she pushed the car door open.

“Molly, wait!” Hillary grabbed her arm. “You can’t go out there. Someone’s trying to kill you,”

Molly pulled free. “I dropped something. I’m getting it back.”

She’d expected this. There were too many people unhappy with her taking this seat of power. Trouble was inevitable today.

Gunfire cracked through the air.

Bodyguards in uniform sprang into action. Helicopters swirled above, their blades a constant roar. noveldrama

Enemies emerged from all directions, and the firepower was intense, coordinated, and ruthless.

A nearby building exploded under a rocket blast, disappearing in a cloud of fire and rubble. The street turned into a war zone.

Molly moved through the chaos, eyes scanning for the lighter. Rain poured, soaking her face and hair, but her lips pressed into a tight, determined line

Then, without warning, one of her own bodyguards raised his gun—and fired at her.

She dropped low, narrowly dodging the shot, then sprang forward and kicked him with lethal precision.

The betrayal was clear now. Other guards reacted instantly, putting him down on the spot. But it was only the beginning.

More traitors revealed themselves. The entire convoy dissolved into a chaotic firefight.

Still crouched low, Molly kept searching. Her heart beat fast, but her focus never wavered. Finally, she spotted a glint of metal in a crack between two

broken stones. She grabbed it and held it tightly, like it was the only steady thing in this nightmare.

Then came the kick. Hard and fast from behind, it knocked her off her feet, sending her crashing across the pavement.

Her attacker followed with a blade, no hesitation and no wasted movement.

Molly blocked the strike and retaliated with a sharp kick, forcing him back. But they kept coming, more and more killers. All of them were efficient, silent, and deadly.

She was nearly out of bullets, but every shot she fired hit its mark.

There was no room left for fear. Her mind went quiet, cold. Every movement was precise, every trigger pull deliberate. Blood stained the ground around

her.

High above, hidden in the shadows of a clock tower, a sniper took aim.

No one had spotted him as his position was perfect.

He pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the rain, fast and deadly, aimed straight at Molly’s heart.

And then, out of nowhere, something white flashed through the air.

The impact knocked Molly sideways, and the bullet/slammed into the car door behind her with a metallic clang.

The sniper squinted through his scope. At first, he thought it was a husky, but that was a wolf.

When Molly was knocked aside, she wasn’t hurt as the wolf had shielded her. She froze, momentarily stunned that a wolf had come to her rescue.

It looked disheveled, matted with dirt from head to paw.

As Molly’s gaze fell on him, Roy instinctively backed away.

He was filthy and didn’t want to stain her clothes. But more than anything, he wanted to hold her again.

Still trapped in the form of a beast, he resisted the urge.

He didn’t feel worthy of touching her, not as a monster.

His ears drooped, eyes dim.

There was something unsettlingly familiar in the wolf’s eyes. Molly couldn’t place it, but it reminded her of Roy, the man she’d spent countless nights thinking about.

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