Clark looked at the man standing in front of him and found himself wondering what made him so calm, so arrogant. There was something unsettling about Jack’s composure, something that made even Clark, a man used to handling chaos hesitate for a moment. He sneered in his heart. He was trying to give Jack a way out. A simple, quiet solution. A chance to walk away without further drama. But Jack clearly wasn’t interested. He didn’t want peace. He wanted to press the issue and ride the high road straight through Basle’s pride.Clark figured that maybe Jack didn’t know who Basle was. Maybe if he did, his arrogance would finally break. Clark lowered his voice, but the weight behind his words didn’t fade.“Basle is the manager of the Marland Grand Hotel. I’m sure you’re also a refined businessman, Mr... Jack. Can’t we be reasonable here and talk things out?”Both Clark and Basle turned their eyes toward Jack, expecting some reaction. Shock, maybe fear. Or, at the very least, a flicker of reco

After the man said that, he grabbed Ava by her chest and yanked her out with shocking force. The movement was so sudden and violent that her body jerked forward like a ragdoll. Jack and Christa, still pressed tightly against the wall behind them, felt their stomachs clench as though the air itself had been ripped out of their lungs. Fear washed over them in waves. Both could practically hear their own hearts hammering in their chests, loud and frantic, like war drums in their ears.The guard, oblivious and overconfident, did not even think to check behind the very same wall where the other two had been hiding. He was too focused on Ava. His ignorance, however, felt like a thin thread stretched taut, ready to snap at any second.“Kpaaa!” The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the space. Ava’s head whipped to the side as the man’s hand left a red mark across her cheek. His voice followed, deep and harsh, the kind of voice shaped by years of smoke and gravel, the sound of a throat that

Before the man who had flanked Jack, the criminal Terrance could even pull the trigger, a sharp, piercing welp echoed from the corner of the hallway. It was Christa. She couldn't contain herself after seeing the man creeping behind Jack. In a way, that sound saved his life. The sound was high-pitched, almost childish, and yet loaded with fear that sliced through the chaos like a knife. Jack’s stomach turned over, a frozen weight settling in his gut. His heart didn’t just race. It seemed to stop, then slam against his ribs like it wanted out. He spun, gun raised, and saw her immediately. Christa was out there, fully exposed, standing just far enough from cover that any bullet could end her in an instant. Her eyes were wide, glimmering with tears, catching the harsh color of the light, and scattering it across her face like fragile glass. Funny enough, Jack’s brain couldn't even think in that instant. His gaze locked on her, and the message was clear without words: “Didn’t I tell

This was all his fault, and most of all he had hesitated when he could see the backs of the two men and had a gun. He rushed over to Christa and cradled her body with trembling arms, her warmth fading as fear clawed at his chest. It was so simple, how did he not see it. The truth had been staring at him, yet he had frozen in the moment where a single pull of the trigger might have changed everything. Hesitation had been the source of all his problems, the quiet parasite that had eaten away at his chances. His previous poverty-stricken condition had begun with hesitation, the moment he failed to take the risks that could have saved his family. His father’s death still burned in his mind because hesitation had stopped him from acting sooner, from saving him when it mattered. The loss of the only property his father had given him had come in the same way, his failure to act quickly leaving him stripped of everything. Then the capture of Ava and now Christa being shot. The pattern was car