Two bodies entwined, passion unspoken.
Taras's genitals were hot, and his breathless words were low and husky, adding a touch of eroticism to the bedroom scene.
He couldn't quite understand how he became so captivated.
The sensation of being immersed in it was like being squeezed to the point of suffocation.
It was intoxicating.
Arabella's hand wrapped around his hard chest, resting on his spine, with long, slender fingers that opened to trace the defined lines down his body, all the way to the crease of his butt.
Muttering softly, Taras bit down on Arabella's breasts, causing them to sway and look very attractive.
Arabella was indeed one of those people who can't gain weight easily. She has a slender and flexible body, but her skin is tight and her whole body exudes a wild tension.
They kissed deeply, their lips a passionate embrace, but their hearts were engaged in a game of mutual deception.
Risky sex was thrilling and exciting.
"Master Unknown, you've sweated a lot. Did I thrust you comfortably?"
Her waves were so powerful that they could emit a foul and lascivious sound of water.
Taras, felt extremely comfortable used all his strength to slap Arabella's hips, his eyes filled with intense desire, red with passion, and he was arrogant and unyielding.
Muttering profanities as he worked, he said, "Master Unknown, your spread-legged posture is just too fucking pathetic."
"Is that so? So much fucking." Arabella listened to the vulgar language and smiled cheerfully, responding in a very cooperative manner.
Taras, a man with boundless energy, was capable and skilled in bed. He had a large size and could last for a long time, making him an ideal partner for releasing sexual desire.
They didn't stop at just doing it in bed; naturally, they moved on to doing it on the floor as well.
The courtyard was deep, its vastness stretching endlessly. The old house of the Destiny now belonged to Taras.
Not long ago, Arabella had taken aim from a distance, firing a single shot that pierced through the courtyard. The bullet, passing beside the towering tree, went straight through Quentin's skull.
The mighty tree stood like an iron wall, its shade casting a chilling, eerie air beneath its leaves.
*
Taras held up Arabella's long legs and place them on his shoulder, burying his head and extending his tongue. His tongue was agile and sensitive, able to feel the incredibly slippery inner walls and explore their depths. He didn't miss any sensitive spots, sucking and teasing until he made Arabella just a little bit high.
Arabella cooperatively let out a loud moan, feeling comfortable physically as if electricity was running through his body. He arched his body in a seductive curve, his body curved undulating, as if he was sinking into pleasure.
But in the next instant, she was able to kick Taras away beneath her, grab his shoulder, and, with a swift motion, hoist both him and herself up into the dense foliage of the towering tree, hiding among its branches.
Taras, standing at 6.2 feet tall, with a strong, muscular build from years of training, was suddenly yanked up by Arabella as if he were a mere cat. The unexpected motion left him momentarily stunned.
His penis was still hard, connected to his testicles and swinging back and forth, poised for action.
Just as naked, Arabella, a woman, remained calm and composed.
She paid no heed to her own body, viewing it merely as a vessel. Only life, a priceless treasure, was something worth cherishing.
"At three o'clock and eleven o'clock, two snipers—one armed with a 20mm caliber T20, the other using a 14.5mm anti-aircraft armor-piercing round."
"How do you know?" Taras was still somewhat caught off guard. He had only wanted to engage in some reckless fun, but ended up being targeted by snipers instead.
The main house of the Destiny was truly cursed.
"Listen for the sound, analyze the chambering noise. This tree won't shield us for long; a change in angle and they can take us both out. Where are your men? Where did they go?"
At the mention of danger, Taras's eyes sharpened. When asked about his men, he could only helplessly reply, "I figured we'd have enough distractions without them around during our little... game. I told them to get lost."
"What about your gun?"
"In the room."
As soon as he said that, he realized how careless he'd been.
Arabella, however, didn't get angry. Such small missteps didn't even register for her.
Instead, she gave Taras a sidelong glance, but said nothing.
A chill ran through Taras's heart—he knew Arabella wouldn't care whether he lived or died.
He took a deep breath, trying to press his body deeper into the cover of the trees.
"Don't worry, life and death are fated. I can take care of myself."
Just as his words fell, Arabella didn't even glance back. She casually snapped a branch, biting it between her teeth, and began to climb upward.
Taras, still hidden below, watched as her movements as quickly as light. She bent backwards, arching her body, and with the branch in her mouth, she launched herself upward.
Below as a scene of lust, between the legs, the tense and tightened lines, which make Arabella this moment the whole person was dyed with a sharp and low-key, that kind of unleashed but restrained sexual killing intent.
At this point, Taras still felt that his penis was hard and rigid, and he boldly cast his gaze on Arabella, paying no attention to his own life at this moment.
He was certain— as long as Arabella was there, he wouldn't die.
*
A sniper's success was not measured by the number of shots, but by the accuracy.
The first shot was crucial.
The two snipers were clearly prepared. No matter who their target was, they were determined to take a life.
Unfortunately, their opponents were too skilled. Arabella had grown up weaving through the jungle, honing her ability to chase, run, hunt, and dodge bullets to perfection.
They were on completely different levels.
In the face of a two-pronged ambush, she tossed the branch to draw the bullets.
Her body arched backward, narrowly evading the bullet that whizzed past. Then, with her head downward, she plunged to the ground. The moment she hit the earth, her hands pushed off, and in an instant, she shot forward like an arrow from a drawn bow, darting into the room.
Taras, hidden in the bushes, watched in awe, his heart racing.
Such powerful and fierce movements— even men hadn't reached this level of strength, decisiveness, and agility.
Even without comparing weapons, when it came to physical skills, Arabella was undeniably number one.
The rest was almost a foregone conclusion. Once Arabella got her hands on a weapon, she swiftly eliminated the enemy with clean precision. Her movements were swift as she scaled the roof, not even needing to take the most advantageous sniper position.
After watching Arabella leave, Taras's expression suddenly darkened.
Arabella was right—there was a traitor here.
As soon as he pulled his men out of the house, snipers had already targeted them.
It didn't matter who the snipers were aiming for—whether it was him, Arabella, or both of them together.
It all shows that their appetite was vast, and their ambitions were equally great.
Moreover, if they were really targeting Arabella, it would be even worse. Their dealings were so secretive—who could possibly have such power to know about them?
His thoughts grew heavy, and it was clear that he was already contemplating murder. He knew that, no matter what, he had to clean up his own house.
Otherwise, if things continued this way, Arabella wouldn't leave him alive.
*
After parting ways with Taras, Arabella took direct action, sneaking into Pujivang to find Julius.
The enemy that could strike might be a problem from Taras's side or from her own.
But the group she brought, led by Raven, was hiding in Pujivang, so they could not possibly know when or where she had been with Taras.
On the other hand, if Julius had other intentions, it wouldn't be surprising at all if he had been eyeing her from the very beginning, sharpening his knives for her.
Meanwhile, Julius had been waiting anxiously for Arabella.
He had left before Arabella and had done so openly, so he had naturally returned to Pujivang early.
The two elders of the Montclair, along with his older brother and sister, nearly kicked him out when they didn't see him bring his girlfriend home.
It wasn't until he gave his third assurance that his girlfriend was real and that she would soon visit with her brother that they finally let him into the house, all smiles and joy.
A few days passed, but still no sign of the girlfriend his younger son had mentioned. His parents were getting frantic.
Could it be that the girl, after hearing rumors that their son was a fool, had been scared off?
His parents pushed him out of the house and demanded he personally bring her back.
In fact, Julius had already come of age and had his own estate.
He stayed alone in his estate, waiting anxiously, his patience wearing thin.
He couldn't find Arabella.
It was then that he realized he had been lingering around Arabella, waiting for her to come find him, but he knew nothing about her.
That night, the doorbell rang.
Arabella stood at his doorstep, as if having traveled through the night, her figure weary with the dust of the road, radiating an aura of coldness.
"Arabella—I've been so worried about you." He couldn't hold back any longer and pulled her into his arms, his eyes gleaming with emotion, his voice thick with reproach.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm doing well."
Arabella's voice was soft and soothing, as gentle as always.
But what Julius didn't see was the sinister aura Arabella carried, a cruel smile creeping across her face as she prepared to start the drama.
