I’m the contracted bride of the billionaire

The compound lingered before them like a noxious fort, its distinct walls seething with deadly obstructions and cautious emplacements.

Philip checked the monumental design through the powerful optics of his rifle scope, his jaw set in a tight line as he evaluated the difficulties that lay ahead.

This was the den of venomous serpents, the serpent’s den, where even the smallest error could result in death.

Under the muted green light of their night vision goggles, the team’s faces were etched with grim determination as he turned his attention to them. These were not simple fighters, but rather world class agents, fashioned in the pot of misfortune and limited by a rugged code of honor.

With a concise gesture, Philip motioned for them to move out, and they flooded forward as one durable unit, softening into the inky shadows that covered the compound’s border.

The principal deterrent arose with frightening quickness – a watch of vigorously outfitted guards, their weapons clearing the obscurity with determined accuracy.

Philip’s group froze in their tracks, holding their breaths as the watchmen passed inside simple feet of their hid positions. It would just take one deviant sound, one lost step, to break the delicate shroud of secrecy that covered them.

Philip’s finger fixed on the trigger of his stifled rifle, his line of sight choosing the lead guard with immovable concentration. In that suspended second, time appeared to come to a standstill, his general surroundings blurring into unimportance as he arranged to release a hail of deadly accuracy.

Then, with a muted, staccato hack that scarcely enrolled over the beating of his own pulse, he made the effort, and the guard folded dormantly to the ground.

Mayhem ejected following that first impetus, as Philip’s group emitted from the shadows in a hurricane of controlled viciousness. Gunfire emitted in staccato explodes, chopping down Cambel’s cohorts with careful accuracy while smoke explosives surged forward, covering the front line in an impervious shroud of lack of definition.

Philip moved with the liquid elegance of a hunter, his weapon his very own expansion body as he carve an area through the foe positions.

Close to him, his group battled with a consistent synchronicity brought into the world of endless long periods of preparing, every part covering the other’s vulnerable sides and expecting their developments with a practically supernatural instinct.

However, even as they cut their direction more profound into the compound, the opposition simply appeared to heighten. In a desperate attempt to halt Philip’s relentless advance, Cambel’s forces rallied with a tenacity that bordered on fanaticism and threw wave after wave of reinforcements into the fray.

The compound reverberated with the rapid roar of gunfire, punctuated by the thunderous convulsions of explosions that rattled the fortress’s very foundations.

Philip persevered with unwavering determination despite the stinging eyes and clogged lungs caused by the smoke and debris that filled the air.

Amelia’s life remained in a critical state, a delicate string that could be cut off at any second by the horrible maneuvers of Cambel’s turned game.

The prospect of her misery, of her light being doused by the dimness that had wrapped them, was a terrible pain that filled all Philip’s steps, driving him to stretch past the boundaries of his perseverance. As they battled their direction more profound into the core of the compound, the hindrances simply appeared to increase.

Computerized turrets released shriveling surges of gunfire, constraining Philip and his group to look for cover behind the inadequate asylum managed the cost of by the compound’s built up walls. Amidst the confusion, Philip got a brief look at development in his fringe vision, and he spun around with perfect timing to defy a huge figure clad in body reinforcement, his face darkened by a balaclavamed appearance.

The man’s weapon cleared toward Philip with deadly purpose, yet Philip was quicker, his battle blade blazing suddenly of movement as he redirected the assault and countered with his very own horrendous strike.

The two warriors hooked in a deadly dance, their developments filled by adrenaline and sharpened by long periods of preparing.

The overwhelming desire to reach Amelia and locate her before it was too late drove Philip to fight with ferocity that bordered on brutality.

With a last, conclusive strike, Philip’s edge tracked down its imprint, and his rival folded to the ground, his life’s embodiment pooling underneath him in a ruby tide.

Philip didn’t extra a subsequent look, his concentrate previously moving to the following hindrance, the following test that remained among him and his objective.

The resistance only got stronger as they moved deeper into the compound, and Cambel’s forces threw every tool in their arsenal into the fight.

Philip and his group had to battle their direction through a glove of mechanized guards, guard firearms, and an apparently unending stream of vigorously furnished hostiles.

Through everything, Philip stayed a mainstay of immovable assurance, his developments energized by a solitary reason – to track down Amelia, to save her from the grasp of Cambel’s turned plots.

His spirit was tempered in the midst of adversity as each obstacle and challenge only served to strengthen his resolve.

They finally broke into the compound’s inner sanctum, a heavily fortified redoubt where Cambel had probably hidden her most closely guarded secrets, after what seemed like an eternity of constant fighting.

The air was thick with the bitter odor of black powder and the coppery tang of spilled blood. Bodies littered the ground, a terrible demonstration of the fierceness of the fight that had seethed through these corridors.

Yet, Philip paid them little regard, his look focused on the impressive impact entryway that lingered before them, its supported surface damaged by singe stamps and effect pits.

With a sign of approval for his group, Philip ventured forward, his fingers moving across the entryway’s control board with rehearsed accuracy.

A progression of coded orders moved quickly over the showcase, and afterward, with a moan of focused metal, the entryway started to slide open, uncovering the shadowed inside past.

Philip’s heart beat in his chest as he ventured across the edge, his weapon raised and his faculties extended as far as possible.

They were led deeper into the unknown by a faint glimmer of light that beckoned from the far reaches, like a will-of-the-wisp, though the chamber beyond was shrouded in darkness.

The chamber’s contours began to take shape as they cautiously moved in, revealing a clean, clinical setting that looked more like a laboratory than a prison.

Banks of screens and work stations lined the walls, their showcases gleaming with obscure information streams and demonstrative readouts.

And afterward, in the focal point of the chamber, Philip saw her – Amelia, suspended in a reasonable, round and hollow chamber, her body encompassed in a sparkling field of energy that cast an ethereal shine across her highlights.

She appeared to be unharmed, her eyes closed, as if she were drifting off to sleep peacefully, but Philip knew better than to believe such illusions.

He rushed forward with a choked scream, his need to get to her overriding any sense of caution. In any case, as he moved toward the chamber, an unexpected explosion of energy ejected from the encompassing terminals, blending into a gleaming boundary that popped with contained power.

When Philip saw the trap that had been set for them, he skidded to a stop and his eyes widened in horror. Cambel’s voice reverberated through the chamber, her insulting chuckling resonating off the sterile walls. “Philip, did you really think it would be so simple?” she ridiculed, her words dribbling with scorn.

“Your little salvage endeavor has been expected all along. You’ve strolled squarely into my catch, and presently, you’ll demonstrate the veracity of the genuine degree of my power.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

The energy field surrounding Amelia’s chamber began to intensify, its luminescence swelling to near-blinding levels, and as the final syllable faded into silence, a series of ominous clicks and whirrs reverberated throughout the space. Philip beat against the hindrance with restored distress, his voice raspy as he called out to out Amelia.

Yet, she stayed unmoving, her highlights quiet and negligent of the unfurling risk that took steps to consume them all. Philip felt a sinking sense of dread as he realized that he had fallen into Cambel’s trap, one from which there might be no escape.

However, even as the chances appeared to be difficult, even as the ghost of disappointment lingered over them like a pall, he realize that he proved unable, wouldn’t, leave Amelia to the curved maneuvers of Cambel’s corrupted desires.

Philip clenched his teeth as he prepared for a last-ditch attempt to break Cambel’s impenetrable defenses by tightening his fingers around the grip of his sidearm.

Yet, before he could act, a blinding blaze of energy ejected from Amelia’s chamber, constraining him to safeguard his eyes as their general surroundings appeared to disintegrate into a whirlwind of popping power.