Evil MC's NTR Harem Chapter 422 Bit

Faith sobbed uncontrollably as she drove aimlessly through the city streets, the mories of her years with Tristan cutting into her heart like a thousand tiny blades.

The weight of wasted years bore down on her, leaving her lost and broken.

Tak... Tak... Tak...

The rain pounded against the windshield, relentless and cold.

She finally pulled over on a dark, empty street, stepped out of the car, and let the rain soak her completely.

Tears stread down her face, blending with the downpour.

She cried until the chill seeped into her bones, and only then did she consider retreating to the car for warmth.

But sothing stopped her.

Faith froze, realizing she was no longer alone.

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"Why are you crying in the rain, ma’am?"

A voice broke through the darkness. It was thin, sharp, and mocking.

"Are you sad? Maybe you need company tonight."

Faith turned toward the voice, her heart pounding as she spotted the speaker—a tall, thin man with a leering expression.

He wasn’t alone. At least a dozen others erged from the shadows, their gaunt faces twisted with maniacal glee.

Tattoos marred their skin, and their jittery movents betrayed their intoxication.

"Don’t co near !" Faith’s voice trembled as she backed up, trying to sound firm.

"My boyfriend is a policeman. He’s just around the corner—he’ll be here any second!"

Her words spilled out in panic, a desperate lie to buy ti. But her hope shattered as the leader of the group sneered, his sick grin widening.

"A cop’s girl, huh? That’s a new one for us," he said, his voice laced with excitent. "Guess we’re lucky tonight, boys. Never had the chance to gang-bang a cop’s bitch before!"

The n’s laughter echoed around her, closing in like the tightening jaws of a predator.

Her path to the car was blocked, the shadows and the rain conspiring against her escape.

"Stop!" Faith scread, squeezing her eyes shut as panic overtook her.

She heard a strange beeping sound, followed by a deafening bang!

The force of the explosion threw the gang mbers violently onto the street.

Faith was spared the horrifying sight, as her eyes remained closed.

When she dared to open them, she saw a sleek car parked nearby, the passenger door flung open.

"Faith, get inside!"

She turned toward the familiar voice—and froze. It was Ross Oakley.

Without thinking, her body moved, driven by sheer adrenaline. She bolted for the car and threw herself inside.

The scent of burning rubber filled the air as the tires screeched against the asphalt, and they sped away from the chaotic scene.

Ross maneuvered the car expertly through the rain-slicked streets, putting as much distance as possible between them and the nightmare they had just escaped.

***

anwhile, back at the scene, the gang leader staggered to his feet, dazed but unhard.

"Fuck!" he roared, his voice echoing with frustration.

"That would’ve been so sweet pussy! I can already feel how tight she would’ve been wrapped around my big dick!"

He kicked a nearby trash can, venting his rage as his n groaned and cursed, recovering from the explosion.

"Relax, boss," one of them said, trying to console him.

"We’ll just find another bitch tonight. Plenty of fish in the sea, right?"

The leader spat on the ground, still seething. "It’s not the sa!"

But before he could rant any further, the quiet

pfft,

pfft,

pfft

of a silenced gun echoed through the alley.

One by one, the gang mbers collapsed like felled trees, their lifeless bodies hitting the ground in rapid succession.

Brandon erged from the shadows, his gun still warm in his hand.

His cleanup crew was already at work, ensuring there would be no witnesses or evidence left behind.

Satisfied, Brandon glanced at the lifeless bodies before crouching down, his eyes gleaming with hunger.

He sank his teeth into the nearest corpse, devouring the flesh with eerie efficiency.

The feeding frenzy left him sated, his twisted smile revealing how much he had enjoyed the al.

Tonight wasn’t a complete waste, after all. He was really lucky to have a good master like Ross.

***

Thirty minutes later, Ross pulled into the driveway of one of his secret properties, a sleek townhouse nestled in a quiet neighborhood on the edge of Parkland City.

The rain had eased, leaving behind glistening streets under the soft glow of streetlights.

This wasn’t just any property—it was one of several strategically selected safe houses he’d purchased over the years.

With his imnse wealth, Ross could have easily bought the entire city, but he preferred to play it smart.

Owning every building in sight was a flashy move that invited unnecessary attention. Instead, he carefully chose locations that served specific purposes, like the one he now brought Faith to.

A love hotel or public space would have been far too conspicuous and would have instantly alard her.

This private and well-appointed townhouse, however, struck the perfect balance of comfort and discretion.

He parked the car and led her inside. The interior was modern yet cozy, designed to put anyone at ease.

Faith followed him without a word, her wide, glassy eyes betraying the shock still gripping her.

"There’s a washroom just down the hall," Ross said, his tone calm but firm as he guided her gently.

"You’ll find a fresh set of clothes in there. Wash up, and I’ll get you so coffee to warm up."

He moved toward the kitchen without waiting for a reply, giving her the space he knew she needed.

Faith stood frozen for a mont, her mind struggling to process everything that had happened.

It was as if the events of the night played on a loop in her head: the gang of n, the explosion, Ross appearing out of nowhere to save her.

She had grown up in the lap of luxury, protected from the darker sides of life.

Her parents had ensured that her world was filled with comfort and safety, but tonight had shattered that illusion.

She had never known fear like this—raw, visceral, and all-consuming.