Chapter 120 Staged Horror

• Jeniece’s legs, the last part of her body free to move, rubbed together in a panic, desperate dance. Her eyes rolled back, tears streaming down her cheeks, glistening in the dim light. The crowd’s chants grew louder, more intense, but it wasn’t real—none of it was real, except for her suffering.
• And then, just as her struggle began to dull, a sudden blur of motion caught my eye. A figure moved through the crowd with the speed and force of a storm. It happened in an instant—one moment, Jeniece was dangling on the edge of death, the next, an unseen force had shoved her away from the noose.
• She hit the floor with a sickening thud, and the illusion of the roaring crowd around us evaporated like smoke. The sudden silence was deafening. All eyes turned to the figure standing just behind us—Cerberus. His face twisted with pain, but his eyes were clouded with confusion. He hadn't been the one to save her. No, the savior had come from within our own ranks. Dominic.