Even in Darkness She Chose to Rise (Tatiana and Jasper) novel Chapter 258

**Even the Night Couldn’t Silence Her Light**
**Chapter 258: The Price of Intervention**

Tatiana stood in a heavy silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on her like a thick fog.

“Don’t ask so many questions. Knowing too much isn’t good for you. This rotten place… it wasn’t always like this. Not since he left… Forget it. Let’s not talk about that. We need to get out of here, fast.”

The urgency in Caitlyn’s voice was palpable, and even though Tatiana was puzzled by her motives for assistance, she knew this was not a place to linger. The shadows loomed around them, and she felt a gnawing desperation to find Ann. She couldn’t allow herself to perish in this forsaken place.

“Boss, we can’t find a way in,” one of Jasper’s men called out, his voice laced with frustration.

“Keep looking!” Jasper barked, his tone sharp and commanding.

In the dim light, Jasper’s features twisted into a mask of fury. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, knuckles turning white as the tension coursed through him. Beneath the surface of his calm facade, a tempest of rage was brewing, ready to erupt at any moment.

Time rewound a few hours, taking him back to the rendezvous point where he had arrived with anticipation, only to find it desolate and empty.

Panic began to seep into his thoughts as he quickly dialed the hotel, his heart racing. The revelation that Tatiana had been sent into Darknight hit him like a punch to the gut.

The entrance to the underground levels was designed with a cunning foresight. From the very first blueprints, the architects had anticipated the risk of discovery, crafting a layout that was fluid, with pathways shifting on a predetermined schedule. The route he had intended to take was now a dead end, a cruel twist of fate.

He was now searching for the alternative route, his mind racing against time.

Bzz…

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he instinctively knew who it was. With a steely resolve, he answered the call, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Give her back.”

“What, are you angry? You were part of this ‘game’ once too, weren’t you?” the voice on the other end taunted, dripping with malice.

“I never intended for it to be used like this. I shut it down!” Jasper shot back, his voice rising with indignation.

The laughter that followed was sharp and cutting. “Yes, you shut it down. You ruined my life’s work! But it doesn’t matter. You can just look forward to what becomes of your little ‘treasure’ in there. Hahaha…”

“Avery.” The name slipped from his lips like a curse.

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time, King. Oh, wait. Yasper. Or perhaps, your real name: Jasper.”

“Let her go.” His voice was low, almost a growl.

“Are you… begging me?”

He gripped the phone tighter, his knuckles turning white as he forced the word out, “Yes.”

A stunned silence enveloped the line for a moment before it was shattered by a loud, mocking laugh.

“You’re begging me? For a woman? When Lily died, you didn’t even come to the memorial. But now you’re begging me for a woman? Yasper, you made your decision back then, and now you have to live with the consequences. You are destined to lose everyone you care about!”

With that, the call ended abruptly, leaving Jasper staring at his phone in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest.

His men stood around him, their expressions a mix of fear and concern, not daring to utter a word.

“Location,” he demanded, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

He had said all that, even provoking the man on purpose, to buy himself some precious time, to lock onto his position.

“We’ve isolated the area. He’s in D-block,” one of his men replied, relief washing over him.

“Keep tracking him,” Jasper ordered, his mind already racing with plans. He deployed his men, splitting them into two teams: one to hunt down Avery, the other to continue the search for the elusive entrance. He paused for a moment, deliberating, before he made a decision that felt both reckless and necessary. He dialed a number buried deep in his memory, a last resort.

“Help me…”

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