ViVi, My Dear Granddaughter

Seeing that the old man was about to be forced into the van, a shadow moved swiftly across the scene.

In the blink of an eye, Ivy Delacroix stepped forward, her movements precise and lightning-fast.

The two men standing near the van, along with the driver inside, were sent sprawling to the ground before they could react.

The two remaining kidnappers, who had been dragging the old man, froze in shock for a moment.

But their hesitation didn't last long.

Dropping the old man unceremoniously, they charged at Ivy, fists raised.

One of them swung a punch, but Ivy sidestepped with ease.

With a fluid motion, she delivered a sharp kick to the man's temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Before the second man could land a hit, she caught his fist mid-swing, her grip iron-strong.

With a practiced twist, she flipped him over her shoulder, his body hitting the pavement with a resounding thud.

He groaned in pain, unable to get back up.

When the fight was over, Ivy took a moment to catch her breath, her slightly messy hair falling into her face.

She tucked a strand behind her ear, then turned her attention to the elderly man who had slumped against the side of the van.

She crouched down, her voice soft and calm. "Are you all right, sir?"

The man stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he regained consciousness.

For a moment, he looked at her with confusion, but then relief washed over his face.

Before Ivy could say more, she heard a frail, trembling voice behind her.

"Vi vi... Vi vi..."

Startled, Ivy turned around to see an elderly woman, leaning unsteadily against the van.

Her weathered hands reached out toward Ivy, and her face was filled with overwhelming emotion.

"Vi Vi," the woman repeated, her voice cracking with tears.

Ivy froze. "Vi Vi"—that was her childhood nickname, one she hadn't heard in years.

How did this woman know it?

The old lady suddenly threw her arms around Ivy, clutching her tightly. "My dear granddaughter, I've finally found you."

Ivy stood there, stunned. Granddaughter? What is going on?

She hesitated, her hands awkwardly hovering in the air before she gently patted the old lady's back.

But the brief moment of confusion didn't last.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ivy noticed the five men she had taken down earlier stirring, ready to escape.

Her instincts kicked in, and she moved to break free from the old woman's grasp.

"Grandma," she said, trying to sound calm, "your people are here now. You're safe."

Before she could do anything, a group of ten bodyguards stormed onto the scene.

Their black suits and sharp expressions screamed professionalism.

They quickly surrounded the kidnappers, pinning them down before they could flee.

The leader of the group approached, his face pale with worry.

He bowed slightly as he addressed the old woman. "Madam, are you all right? We were delayed, but we came as fast as we could."

Ivy let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least these were the old lady's people.

She wouldn't have to keep fighting tonight.

"Madam," she said again, this time firmer, "your bodyguards are here. Let them take care of you."

But the old woman refused to let go. Her arms tightened around Ivy, her frail body trembling.

Before Ivy could argue further, the woman's grip slackened, and her body went limp.

Alarm shot through Ivy. "Grandma? Grandma, what's wrong?"

She adjusted her hold to support the old lady, panic rising in her chest.

In her rush, she didn't notice the uneven ground beneath her feet.

Her heel caught on a loose stone.

She stumbled, losing her balance.

Instinctively, she pulled the old woman closer, shielding her from the fall.

Ivy hit the ground hard, the back of her head slamming into something solid.

Pain shot through her skull, and the world around her spun.

She dimly realized someone had caught her before she fully hit the ground, but the edges of her vision blurred.