Chapter 1312

Chapter 1312:

Now, in this lonely place, Elton’s visit finally brought some excitement to Rocco’s life. Even though he knew Elton wasn’t here for anything good, it still made things interesting.

“You see my situation,” Rocco said to Elton.

“What can I possibly do if they won’t let that doctor in?”

Elton’s eyes narrowed, his confidence unchanged.

“General Travis, don’t I know what you’re capable of? Right now, you may be trapped, cut off from the outside world, but I can help you reach your men. Once everything’s done, I’ll get Mia to heal your legs.”

Rocco let out a laugh, but his eyes remained as cold as ice, sending chills down one’s spine.

“Save your breath. I know my legs better than anyone—they’re beyond healing. And your success isn’t guaranteed either. But I’ll go along with your plan.”

Rocco watched with hidden amusement as his contradictory words played with Elton’s emotions.

“Get me some paper and a pen,” Rocco said.

“I’ll tell you about my forces, and you write them down.”

Rocco unfolded the details of his forces to Elton, his voice carrying the weight of years of authority.

“It’s been years since I last contacted them,” he said.

“Don’t let your expectations soar too high. If you can make use of these forces, do so. If not, let them fade into memory.”

Having secured what he came for, Elton rose to his feet, determination etched across his features.

“Don’t worry. I will bring Dr. Mia to treat your legs.”

As Elton’s car disappeared down the winding road, a shadow moved in the distance. A surveillance operative from the Qiviut Organization lowered his camera and melted away into the landscape.

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In his villa, Andrew stood by the window, his keen eyes scanning through intelligence reports about Elton’s recent activities.

Just as he finished drafting his next directive, the soft padding of feet announced Madisyn’s emergence from the bathroom.

“Still caught up in work, darling?” Her voice carried a gentle inquiry.

Andrew turned, his gaze softening at the sight of her. Taking the towel from her grasp, he murmured, “It’s not about work. Let me help you dry your hair.”

Andrew led Madisyn to sit down, his slender fingers running through her damp hair with practiced tenderness.

The gentle hum of the hairdryer filled their comfortable silence. When he finished, he leaned down, drawing close behind her until his head rested softly on her shoulder.

“Word has reached me that Ansport’s been rather unstable lately,” he murmured, his voice laced with concern.

“Sweetheart, promise me you’ll take extra precautions when you’re out?”

The warning came as a preventive measure—Andrew was still piecing together the puzzle of Elton’s activities.

Catching his solemn gaze in the mirror’s reflection, Madisyn nodded with quiet understanding.

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