The moment Olivia and Lydia fall silent, the tension in the room hangs like a noose around my neck. I can still hear the echo of their raised voices, sharp and bitter, bouncing against the walls of the bar. My patience snaps. I slam my hand against the table, the sound reverberating like a gunshot.“Enough!” My voice cuts through the thick air, commanding and final. Both of them freeze, eyes narrowing, but they don’t say another word.I stand slowly, deliberately, so they know I mean every word that follows. “I am the one in charge here. My decisions are final. Whether you like them or not, you follow them. This isn’t a debate hall. This isn’t a playground for your endless quarrels. This is my reality, my vision, my war.”Olivia bites her lip, her chin tilting upward in defiance, but she doesn’t speak. Lydia, however, glares at me with an intensity that almost burns. Her fists clench, her knuckles whitening, and then she lets out a bitter laugh.“So that’s it,” she says, her voice tre

Olivia's POV News travels fast in this city, and even in hiding, Justin hears everything. I know because I can almost feel his eyes on me, even from a distance. Donald’s death hits him like a hammer. I imagine him sitting in the shadows, trembling with rage, realizing that kelvin is behind it all.If Donald could fall, Justin knows he could too. And that fear, that gnawing paranoia, pushes him to act.With the money Donald had stashed away, Justin hires mercenaries six of them, hardened men who live only for blood and payment. He splits them into three groups, each assigned to a target. Two are sent for me. Two for kelvin. Two for Lydia.Justin stays behind, crouched in some hole, waiting for updates. I don’t know this yet. All I know is that on this particular day, the storm finally crashes into us.I’m in the office when it happens.The hum of computers, the rustle of papers, the faint tick of the clock on the wall it’s all so normal, so peaceful, until the door bursts open. The hi

Kelly’s body goes limp before my eyes, and the world narrows into a terrifying silence. Olivia’s scream pierces through it, sharp and desperate. She falls beside him, her hands shaking as she presses them against the wound. “Help! Somebody, help!” Her voice cracks, breaking into sobs.I can’t stand still. My chest burns as adrenaline takes over. Guards rush in, and in moments Kelly is lifted onto a stretcher, his blood leaving a crimson trail across the floor. Olivia clings to his hand, refusing to let go until they nearly drag her into the ambulance with him. I watch, my fists clenched, the image of the knife in his back burned into me.The captured assassins are forced to their knees before me and Lopez. Their faces are twisted in pain from the gunshots I dealt earlier, but I feel no pity. “Talk,” I command, my pistol still in my hand, my finger resting lightly on the trigger.They hesitate. Lopez steps forward, his boot slamming into one of them so hard he spits blood. “Answer him!

The phone rings as I’m racing through the streets, every muscle in my body tense. It’s the police chief. His voice is sharp, urgent, the kind of tone that makes your stomach twist before the words even land.“We have eyes on him,” he says. “Justin just entered a hospital.”My hands go slick on the steering wheel. My heart sinks. Brianna.I don’t wait for him to finish. “Which hospital?” I demand, though I already know.“The one your Brianna is in.”The words shatter the air. For a second, I can’t even breathe. My worst fear has taken form.The chief tries to reassure me. “My men are five minutes out. We’ll surround the building.”“Five minutes?” I roar. “That’s five minutes too late!”I slam the accelerator, tires screeching as the car rockets forward. Lopez’s voice crackles over the radio behind me. “Kelvin, think! Don’t just rush in blind.”But I’m past logic now. The blood in my veins feels like fire. If Justin lays a hand on her, I’ll never forgive myself.When I reach the hospita

Kelvin's POV The room feels too small, too suffocating, like the walls themselves are leaning in to watch me break. Justin’s gun gleams under the fluorescent lights, its barrel pressed hard against Brianna’s temple. Her face is pale, her eyes swollen with terror, and her lips tremble as she whispers my name like a prayer.“Drink it,” Justin growls, shaking the glass bottle of poison in my direction. His smile is wicked, stretched too wide, like a mask sewn into his flesh. “One swallow, Kelvin. Just one. Or she dies here and now.”My hand hovers in the air as I stare at the poison. It’s thick, swirling like liquid death. I reach out, fingers brushing the bottle’s cool surface. My stomach twists into knots, bile rising in my throat.If I drink it, Brianna lives. If I don’t, she dies.My chest pounds so hard it hurts. I raise the bottle slowly, my hand trembling as though the glass weighs a hundred pounds. Brianna lets out a cry, a sound so raw it slashes straight into me.“No, Kelvin!”