Chapter 153

In Aria Bennett's apartment.

Snap! The straw doll in her hand suddenly burst into flames, casting flickering light across her impassive face.

"Done." A glint of satisfaction flashed in Aria's eyes.

The oppressive gloom that had weighed on her for years finally lifted slightly. She had just collected the first installment of revenge for her past life's tragic end.

She quickly dialed Damian Cross.

"Logan Price's fortune has been broken. It's time to close the net on the Price family."

Damian's deep voice came through the phone: "Understood. I'll arrange it immediately."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city—

Screech—

Amidst the piercing sound of brakes, Logan's sports car slammed into a dump truck. The airbags deployed, but his legs were trapped in the twisted wreckage.

"Ahhh!" His agonized scream tore through the night.

Price Family Mansion.

"What? Logan's been in an accident?" The patriarch's hand trembled as he held the phone.

After hanging up, he forced composure. "You go to the hospital. I'll fetch Elder Ashcroft."

Passing through layered courtyards, he reached the ancient tower at the estate's heart. Moonlight bathed the dark-tiled structure in an eerie glow.

He stepped carefully along predetermined paths—the grounds were littered with lethal metaphysical traps.

"To what do we owe this late visit, Patriarch?" Two robed figures emerged from the shadows.

The patriarch bowed. "Logan's had an accident. We need Elder Ashcroft's counsel."

One man frowned. "With his fortune, this shouldn't..."

Before he could finish, a dull thud came from upstairs.

"Trouble!" Their faces paled as they rushed upward.

In the attic, Elder Ashcroft spat blood, his divination board split cleanly in two.

"Omen of doom..." He stared at the fractured symbols, aged eyes widening in dread.

Hospital Operating Wing.

"Amputation is necessary to save his life!" The surgeon's verdict made Mrs. Price faint on the spot.

Elder Ashcroft stormed into the OR. When he saw the wisp of black energy swirling at Logan's brow, his pupils contracted violently.

"Fortune broken, backlash arrived." His voice turned gravelly. "The Prices... are doomed."

The patriarch staggered as if struck. "How...?"

"Fool boy!" Elder Ashcroft suddenly roared. "Who did he provoke?"

His tortoiseshell divination revealed something terrifying—the blurred augury carried traces of celestial judgment.

Was Heaven itself sealing their fate?

"Prepare to evacuate!" Elder Ashcroft barked.

But they were too late.

When they hurried back, flashing police lights already encircled the ancestral home.

"Mr. Price, you're required for questioning." The lead agent displayed his badge.

From her high-rise window, Aria watched the city's glittering tapestry.

"Endgame," she murmured.

In the distance, invisible to ordinary eyes, a dark miasma dissipated above the Price estate—vanishing into the night like smoke.