The Real Heiress Rules the World (Sloane Rivers) novel Chapter 437

Chapter 437 The Ritual of the Dead

Chapter 437 The Ritual of the Dead

“You lunatic–your sister’s been dead for years!” Shawn shouted.

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Charlie’s eyes gleamed with feverish madness. “You don’t understand! The Book of the Dead describes a resurrection ritual. As long as I offer a living human heart to the sun at dawn, I can bring back the one I wish to resurrect!”

He suddenly grabbed Sloane’s chin. “I want you to watch with your own eyes as your heart is cut out to make up for my sister’s suffering!”

A strange whirlwind rose outside the dungeon, whipping sand against the stone walls with an eerie hiss. The guards exchanged uneasy glances, but Charlie was ecstatic. “See? Even the desert answers me!”

He turned and barked orders. “Prepare the scarabs and the blood of the black cat! Everything must be ready before sunrise!” Then he began inspecting the ritual tools one by one, muttering and laughing hysterically, completely lost in his own deranged obsession.

Lucas’s eyes were bloodshot as he struggled violently against his chains. The iron scraped with a shrill screech, and the metal cuffs had already torn his wrists raw. Blood streamed down the chains and pooled on the stone floor in a dark red puddle.

Shawn’s face twisted in alarm. “Lucas! You’ll wreck your hands!”

“Shut up!” Lucas roared, jerking his arms again. The cuffs bit deep into his wrist bones with a sickening crunch. Sweat poured down his face, but he refused to stop.

Sloane watched the spreading pool of blood, her chest tightening in pain. “Stop,” she said softly.

Her voice made him pause. He looked up, his bloodstained face wild, his eyes burning with a terrifying light. “No–I can’t stop…” His voice cracked, trembling with emotion he couldn’t contain.

Blood continued to drip from Lucas’s wrists, thickening the air with the stench of iron. After Charlie’s departure, the guards had tightened security. Sloane was separated from the others and confined to a stone chamber beside the altar, awaiting the dawn ritual.

“Stinger, you still haven’t caught Beth and Tony?” Charlie slammed a hand on the table, agitation flickering in his eyes.

The bandit leader Stinger grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Relax. They won’t get far. The man’s badly hurt, and the woman’s carrying him. In this desert with no water, they won’t last

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Chapter 437 The Ritual of the Dead

the night.”

.:.

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Charlie gave a cold snort. “Bring them back before sunrise! I want Beth to watch as I cut Sloane’s heart out–then I’ll tell her the truth!”

Stinger nodded, then added as he turned to leave, “By the way, we found blood traces on the eastern dunes. My men are tracking them now.”

In the pitch–black desert, Beth trudged forward, Tony half–conscious on her back. Her feet were covered in blisters, and every breath tasted of blood.

“Beth… leave me…” Tony’s voice was a rasp. “You… might still make it…”

“Shut up!” Beth hissed, teeth clenched. Sweat and tears mixed on her cheeks. “We’re getting out of here… together…”

Just as she was about to collapse, the faint crunch of footsteps came from behind.

Beth froze, dragging Tony behind a sand dune. Her trembling hand reached for her waist- only to find the empty holster of a gun long out of bullets.

The footsteps drew closer. She held her breath and peeked over the edge of the dune. In the moonlight, several shadowy figures were moving toward them. Biting down hard on her lip, Beth pulled a knife from her boot and silently counted the distance in her head.

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