The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO-Chapter 258 You’re humorous now.

Under the heavy shroud of night, the sleek black Bentley sped along the highway heading to Northriver.

Karl’s fingers flew over the keyboard of the laptop balanced on his knees. After wiping the surveillance footage around the villa and the route they took, he locked it down tight with encryption to block any recovery efforts.

The corners of his lips curved a little—he figured only Megan could crack that data.

Keith glanced in the rearview mirror, catching how the headlights from oncoming traffic highlighted Karl’s sharply defined face. Spotting the rare smile playing on his boss’s lips, he chuckled, "Thinking about Miss Shaw, boss?"

In an instant, Karl’s smile vanished. He shot Keith a cold look. "Don’t be an idiot."

"Weren’t you heading to Northriver to get Mr. Ford out of retirement for her?"

Pressing his fingers against his temple, Karl muttered, "I’m doing this for Tristan."

That caught Keith off guard. Really? The boss suddenly being generous toward a love rival?

Karl closed his laptop with a snap. "Tristan might be annoying, but the guy’s got talent—no one else comes close. I guess I just value skill. Hard to believe I’m this noble, right? Maybe try using that brain instead of your mutt instincts."

Keith coughed awkwardly. What did he say wrong?

Every time Karl’s pissed off, he somehow ends up as the punching bag.

From elite hitman to emotional punching bag—what a career shift.

Still, he didn’t mind this life. No blood on his hands lately, and his boss was starting to act more human—less zombie-like.

Just then, Karl’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—Megan. A soft smile appeared again as he answered. His voice turned warm and low. "Hey, Meg..."

"Why are you so soft all of a sudden? Having a good time on your little road trip?"

Karl’s expression instantly soured. "Seriously, you damn mutt. This is all your fault!"

Tristan’s laughter came through the line. "You’re welcome. If I hadn’t tipped you off, Charles would’ve got you by now. Tortured and dumped in some ditch. I basically saved your life. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?"

Karl grit his teeth. "Cut the crap and talk!"

"Karl."

Megan’s voice suddenly chimed in, triggering a near spit-take from Karl.

He cleared his throat, panicked. "Meg, that wasn’t meant for you—"

"What did you just say?" she asked, puzzled.

"Nothing," Karl quickly deflected, turning to look out the window at the streaking lights and discreetly wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. That was way too close. "How are you holding up?"

"I’m okay. Saw you scrubbed all traces of your movements. I was a little slower than you this time."

His chest warmed at her words—she still cared. His voice dropped a note lower, rich and soothing like a cello. "Thanks."

"I patched things up on my end. You’re heading towards Northriver, right?"

He paused briefly before giving her a faint "Yeah. There’s an old mentor deep in the mountains there. I’m going to lay low. Charles won’t track me."

"I encrypted your phone. It’s secure now. But heads-up—there’s a checkpoint about thirty kilometers ahead. Be careful and call me when you’re through."

"Got it. You and Tristan watch out too." His voice turned gentle.

"Oh? Now I’m Tristan, not ’damn mutt’ anymore?" came Tristan’s amused voice.

Karl let out a short, fed-up laugh. "You’re an absolute dog of a man, you know that?"Tristan burst out laughing, that unrestrained kind of laugh that echoed through the car.

Karl shot him a glare, gritting his teeth. "Seriously, when was the last time you cracked a smile?"

"Life’s short, man. Gotta make the most of chances to roast you," Tristan replied with a smirk. The joking felt heavy though—both of them knew he only had three and a half months left. They didn’t bring it up, but it hung in the air like static.

Karl let out a quiet sigh. "Hang in there. Just wait for me."

Tristan gave a soft chuckle. "Next life, me and Megan already called dibs. Even if you come back as a woman, you’re still outta luck."

Karl froze for a beat. He felt like he’d just poured his heart out... to a brick wall. He huffed a sarcastic laugh. "If you actually die, I’ll take care of Megan and your kid for you."

He half-expected Tristan to curse him out, but instead, the guy said, "Thanks."

The phone went dead. Karl didn’t say a word, just hung up and stared at the screen. His long fingers dug into the phone like he might crush it. He tugged at his collar—two buttons popped off.

His gaze darkened. He kicked at the seatback in front of him. "Checkpoint coming up. Stay alert."

Keith gave a small nod. Things seemed fine a second ago—now the mood had flipped again.

A piercing beam of light swept over the car. Karl barely lifted his eyelids, but the shift in his eyes? Sharp enough to cut glass.

Keith glanced over, instantly on edge. "Boss, up ahead... looks like we’ve got a full squad of cops."

"Yeah." Karl’s voice was calm, but clipped.

Armed officers were scanning cars. There were a few K9 units moving around too.

Karl casually bit down on a cigarette, leaving it dangling at the corner of his mouth. He took out a tiny paper packet, tore it open, and gave it a light tap. A thin dust of white powder floated out, giving off a faint, sweet scent.

The Bentley slowed to a halt. A SWAT officer knocked on the window. "Out of the car. IDs."

Karl and Keith stepped down, handing over their documents. One of the officers compared them with the photos.

"Alright. If the guy from the photo turns up, report it immediately."

Karl nodded. "Got it."

They were just about to get back in when an older officer strolled over, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He cupped his lighter with one hand to shield the flame, casting an eerie red glow in the dim night.

He was holding on to a well-groomed police dog. "Hold up. Let Blackie take a sniff."

The cigarette on Karl’s lips burned slowly. Through the smoke, the officer took a closer look at his face—just a plain, forgettable-looking guy.

The K9 circled Karl, sniffing. Nothing. The officer’s face fell a little—he’d been on standby for three hours already.

Next, the dog moved to Keith. Still no reaction. The officer gave a wave. "Alright, move along."

Keith opened the back door for Karl.

But then the old cop’s voice rang out again, a little too amused. "Hold it."

Karl straightened up, unbothered. "Something wrong?"

The officer squinted. "You two... what’s your relationship?"

Karl gave a lopsided grin. "We’re a couple. He’s the bottom, I’m the top."

The officer frowned deep enough to form cracks, then waved them off. "Just get lost already."

Karl dipped his chin slightly in response and slipped into the car.

Keith climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling them away from the checkpoint.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, watching the SWAT team fade out behind them, Keith chuckled. "Boss, didn’t know you had jokes now."

"Did I?" Karl said, tugging at the synthetic edges of the mask on his face. "Even a blind man could tell this mug looks tougher than yours. No one would buy it if you said you were the top."

Keith: "..." That... hurt. A lot.

The Bentley prowled down the road like a predator in the wild.

Soon, the sign for Northriver’s toll station loomed out of the dark.