Reborn Heiress: Taking Back What Is Rightfully Hers!
Chapter 408: Sowing Discord

A bodyguard let out a scream, collapsing to the floor. The others froze, fear gripping them as the metallic scent of blood filled the air. The fallen man twitched briefly before going still, the life drained from his body.

Eric could hear their heavy breathing, a mix of adrenaline and growing terror. They were beginning to fear him. Sensing his advantage, Eric inched toward the passage exit. In one swift motion, he hurled a stun baton toward the cluster of men.

The group scrambled in panic, a flurry of movement as they fired blindly. Eric seized the moment, returning fire with precision. His bullets found their targets, drawing screams and chaos. Smoke and the acrid stench of gunpowder thickened the air.

Despite his skill, Eric’s ammunition soon ran dry. The dust settled, and only two bodyguards remained standing. Both were imposing, their towering frames further emphasized by their Country W heritage. At nearly six-foot-three, they loomed over Eric’s six-foot stance.

The larger of the two sneered, his expression twisted with rage. "You bastard! You killed so many of our brothers!" he snarled.

"Kill him!" the other bellowed, rushing forward.

They thought Eric was finished, worn down and unarmed. They were wrong.

As the first guard lunged, Eric sidestepped, grabbing his arm and wrenching it with brutal force. A sickening crack echoed as the man’s shoulder dislocated. His agonized screams pierced the air.

The second guard threw a punch, but Eric narrowly dodged, the blow grazing his face and sending a sharp jolt through his jaw. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as a thin stream trickled from his lips.

Eric retaliated, his leg sweeping low and fast. His target flinched, realizing too late the attack was aimed at his most vulnerable area. As he stumbled back in pain, Eric’s fist connected with his head, dropping him like a sack of bricks.

It didn’t take long for Eric to incapacitate the pair. Standing over them, he bent down to reclaim a pistol from one of the earlier downed guards.

The two remaining bodyguards, now trembling and defeated, dropped to their knees. Their faces were pale, their bravado replaced with sheer terror.

Eric wiped the blood from his lips, the crimson streak adding a sinister edge to his smirk. His narrowed eyes bore into the men as he spoke with cold disdain. "A whole squad of you, and not one could take me down? Pathetic. You should all go back to training."

Turning on his heel, Eric walked toward the exit, leaving the two men to grapple with their humiliation. For a moment, they exchanged bewildered glances. They weren’t just bodyguards—they were Leonard’s specially trained assassins. Yet, in that moment, they felt something foreign: fear. For the first time, they faced death and realized the fragility of life.

They expected Eric to finish them off, but he didn’t. Instead, he left them alive, an act that filled them with confusion and an unsettling sense of relief.

As his footsteps faded, they sat in the dim passage, their pride shattered.

But the night of bloodshed wasn’t over.

Eric climbed the narrow staircase, emerging at the hidden exit beneath a bed. Crawling out, he scanned the room. It was dimly lit, the silence unnerving.

Suddenly, the lights blazed on.

Dozens of guns were aimed at him, their cold steel reflecting the light. Eric straightened, his smirk unwavering even as his situation became clear. The streak of blood on his lip only enhanced the devilish charm of his smile.

"So, reinforcements, huh? I regret wasting all my bullets earlier," he said mockingly, his voice calm.

One of the gunmen stepped forward. Unlike the others, he carried himself with authority. His golden curls cascaded to his shoulders, his face bearing a striking resemblance to Leonard’s—though bloated with excess weight. His small, cruel eyes gleamed with malice.

This was Barry Miller, Leonard’s older brother.

Barry’s lips curled into a sneer as he raised his gun. "Eric," he drawled, his tone thick with disdain. "Welcome to the real fight."

Leonard was clever. Before leaving, he handed the situation off to his older brother, Barry, ensuring that if anything went wrong, the blame would fall squarely on Barry’s shoulders.

"Well, well, Mr. Nelson," Barry sneered, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "You didn’t expect this, did you? After all that effort to escape, you still end up in our hands. Why not make this easier and cooperate? With your brains, you could make a nice profit out of this."

In Barry’s eyes, Eric had no chance of escaping. Out of bullets and surrounded, Eric’s fate seemed sealed.

Eric let out a cold laugh, an aura of deadly resolve radiating from him.

"Barry, you’re awfully confident," Eric said calmly, then casually sat on Leonard’s pristine white bed. His bloodstained clothes left streaks of crimson on the immaculate sheets, a grim reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

Barry, intrigued, stared at Eric with a spark of excitement. "Let’s see what tricks you’ve got left. Go on, show me."

Eric smiled coolly. "Barry, do you know why your father assigned me to you?"

"Hah! Because my useless little brother couldn’t handle you. Only I could get the job done," Barry retorted, his tone dripping with disdain.

His expression reflected his true feelings—contempt not only for Eric but also for his brother Leonard. Barry had little respect for Leonard, even though they were blood-related. The Miller family had clawed its way to power through violence and alliances with dark forces, becoming aristocrats feared even by key leaders of Country W.

But with such power came enemies, many of whom would stop at nothing to destroy them.

"You’re wrong," Eric said with a smirk. "Your brother is the real strategist. This kidnapping? I’d bet it was his idea. He succeeded on his first try. But you? You’ve tried more than once to take me down, and every time you’ve failed. Now, if something goes wrong here, your father will hold you responsible."

Every word was laced with biting sarcasm, each one hitting its mark.

Barry hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping into his eyes as he glared at Eric. "Stop wasting time, Eric, and surrender already."

"If you don’t believe me, call your father," Eric suggested, his tone as composed as ever. "Ask him yourself if Leonard came up with this plan."

Eric straightened his collar with an air of casual elegance, emphasizing his point. "Face it, Barry. Leonard set you up."

Despite the blood on his face, Eric exuded an innate nobility and grace that only made his words more cutting.

"You... you’re spouting nonsense!" Barry barked, unwilling to believe that Leonard, the sibling he considered inferior, could be capable of such cunning.

"Believe me or don’t," Eric said with a light chuckle. "But a quick call will clear everything up. If I’m wrong, I’ll do whatever you say. If I’m right, you’ll let me go."

Barry glared at him furiously, reluctant but unable to ignore the seed of doubt planted in his mind. Grinding his teeth, he snatched up his phone and called Bowan.

"Father," Barry began, his tone uncertain, "Eric claims this kidnapping was Leonard’s idea. Is that true?"

"It is," Bowan answered coldly. "Why are you wasting time asking about this? Have you dealt with Eric yet?"

"Of course," Barry replied quickly, though frustration tinged his voice. "Eric isn’t going anywhere, but he’s killed several of our men."

"Damn it!" Bowan snapped. "Take him back to the basement immediately and make sure no one finds out about this."

"Don’t worry, Father," Barry said, regaining some of his bravado. "The security here is airtight. My men have sealed off every window. No one outside will know."

But just as Barry finished speaking, the door burst open with a thunderous kick.