Then he would have whisked her away to another city, where she would have spent the rest of her life with him, trapped in a web of false, twisted memories. The thought sent a chill of genuine fear through her, and her body trembled. Hannah gripped the balcony railing, taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. “Quennel,” she whispered, “to think I trusted you so much for the past three years. It turns out your methods are even more vicious than Lionel’s. You have gone too far.” She fought back tears, her heart feeling as though it were being sliced by a knife. But she was grateful that she had found her family. They were so good to her. Without them, in a situation like this, she truly wouldn't know how to face the world. Everyone she met seemed to be so malicious, so treacherous, so deceitful. She felt an intense, burning hatred. But she was also relieved that she had found out in time. Quennel, your plan will not succeed. It will only make me despise you even more. Hannah had already sent people to watch Lionel’s estate, ensuring she would be the first to know of any developments or interactions with Quennel. - At the Rosenberg Group. Quennel was in his office handling work when his assistant burst in. “Mr. Rosenberg, it’s bad! Something’s happened!” The assistant rushed to his desk, holding out a tablet. Quennel took it, and as he scrolled through the content, his face turned grim. He stared at the screen in disbelief, his fingers swiping from one article to the next. “We’ve already sent people to investigate discreetly. The man who drove the car was sent by Lionel. The driver was caught, but he refuses to admit that Lionel gave the order,” the assistant reported breathlessly. “Our people saw Marcus Hale being taken to the Rosenberg family estate, and he hasn’t come out. He’s most likely being held there. Should we send our men to demand his release?” Quennel took a deep breath and set the tablet down. “We brought him here secretly. He was low-profile the entire time. Lionel has no connections in the world of hypnosis. How could he possibly have known about Marcus Hale?” Quennel’s eyes were terrifying as he stared at his assistant, his voice a low growl. “Was there a leak when this was being handled?” The intensity in Quennel’s gaze was frightening. The assistant quickly explained, “Mr. Rosenberg, no one else knew about this from start to finish. Our people are extremely tight-lipped.” He paused, then quickly added, “I’ll send someone to investigate a possible leak right away. I’ll report back to you as soon as I have anything.” “Go!” The assistant nodded and hurried out of the office. Quennel stared at the tablet, his breathing growing heavy. His pupils constricted as he clenched his jaw, his face darkening to a shade so black it looked as if ink might drip from it. He knew this operation was incredibly sensitive and had been terrified of a leak, which was why so few people knew about it. Hannah had been successfully hypnotized. Everything was supposed to be a success. But at the final moment, Lionel had found out. What if he went to Hannah now and told her everything? What if Hannah believed him? A massive wave of anxiety and dread washed over him. Quennel couldn’t sit still any longer. He stood up and headed for Lionel’s house.

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