Chapter 1111

The hotel doors flew open with a loud crash. Maeve had come prepared this time, as she had brought backup. Hector was already handcuffed, and he was slumped in a chair with his hands bound. His once-imposing figure now looked battered and defeated. Lyra had stabbed him in the abdomen—not deep, but enough to leave a wound that was still slowly bleeding. Someone had hastily wrapped a bandage around it, but Hector's face was deathly pale. Maeve strode up to him and then pressed her fingers down hard on his wound with an emotionless expression. Hector's body tensed, and cold sweat immediately beaded on his forehead. Even his lips were drained of all color. "I'm not a woman of many talents," Maeve said, "but if there's one thing I do well, it's protecting the people who matter to me." Her voice turned cold. "Zion is in surgery fighting for his life right now. So, you're going to feel that same kind of pain." With a flick of her wrist, Maeve gestured for the cart to be wheeled in.