Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 430

Eight hours. That’s how long it took.

By the time they finally reached the rendezvous point, Tim barely made it into the back of the SUV before his eyes rolled back and he passed out cold. Totally useless.

Black Mamba, though, just had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. She looked as cool and sharp as ever.

She shoved Emmy onto the seat, took a bite of bread, washed it down with some water, and snapped an order to the driver.

“Give her some water. Don’t let her pass out.”

The SUV bounced and skidded along muddy backroads, racing straight for the border.

When Emmy finally came to, pain was the first thing she felt—aching all over, her head heavy and thick, like it was weighed down with lead. Everything was pitch black, and the air was so hot it was hard to breathe.

She tried to move, and realized her wrists and ankles were tied behind her back. The tape over her mouth had gotten sweaty and started to peel off.

She could hear a low engine rumble and the rush of water nearby. Her whole body swayed with the rocking.

That’s when it hit her—she was on a boat.

Her heart hammered in her chest, panic crawling up her spine. She could barely make out voices outside, strange and rough, speaking in a dialect she didn’t understand. It sounded like something from deep in Country T.

She forced herself to stay calm and twisted her wrists, trying to get free, but every movement just made the ropes dig in and squeak.

Suddenly, the lid above her flew open.

Sunlight stabbed into her eyes and a rush of hot, sticky air flooded in.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the glare. That’s when she realized she was locked in some kind of crate. And wherever this was, it definitely wasn’t home—back home, it’d never be this suffocatingly hot this time of year.

A dark-skinned man glanced down at her, his face blank. He barely looked at her before turning away and saying something in that harsh dialect.

A moment later, a tall, wiry woman crouched down, icy eyes locked on Emmy.

Emmy tipped her head back, squinting up. Recognition jolted through her. It was her—the woman who’d drugged her. Emmy would never forget those eyes.

Even with her new, sharp-looking clothes and patterned scarves wrapped around her head and face, her eyes were just as cold and dangerous as before.

The woman reached in, big hands wrapped in rough cloth.

In a blink, she grabbed Emmy’s chin, squeezing hard.

Pain shot through Emmy’s jaw. She tried to jerk away, but it only made it worse.

The woman studied her face, then smirked. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you? No wonder they wanted you alive.”

She gave a warning grunt. “Sit tight. We’re almost there.”

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