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Home / Urban / From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. / 229. Regrouping
229. Regrouping
Author: Kayysemiu023
last update2025-05-06 21:25:04

The sedan rolled to a stop at the docks, wheels crunching over loose gravel.

The old warehouse loomed ahead — rusted, half-abandoned, but still standing.

Safehouse Two.

For now.

Van was the first out, scanning the shadows.

Nothing moved but the water lapping against the pilings.

It was good... for now.

Boyd staggered out next, coughing from the smoke that still clung to his lungs.

He looked back at the road, half expecting black SUVs to come roaring around the bend.

None yet.

But he knew it was only a matter of time. They all did.

Inside the warehouse, Carla flicked the light switch. Nothing. It was obvious that power was long dead here.

She cursed and grabbed the old lantern from the shelf, sparking weak yellow light into the gloom. "Great. We’re living like rats now," she muttered.

Dan slumped against a wall, wincing as he peeled back the bloody cloth from his arm. The wound was deeper than he let on but no one had time to properly check on him yet.

Louisa stood frozen in the midd
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  • 344. Second Wedding II

    The days leading up to the wedding were a gentle storm of ribbons, laughter, and lists. Ivy had taken the helm, organizing everything from the florals to the food with her usual quiet precision. Isadora, though initially hesitant, eventually surrendered to the thrill of it all— testing cakes, sketching dress ideas in the early mornings, and letting herself lean into the joy of it.They’d decided on a small ceremony in a serene garden tucked just outside the city, where the maple leaves had begun their slow golden descent. It felt symbolic somehow— life cycling, seasons shifting, old fears falling away like crisp leaves.One morning, two days before the wedding, Ivy found Isadora in the sunroom, curled up with a cup of tea and a half filled sketchpad on her lap. The light caught the silver in her hair, and the softness in her expression. But her eyes weren’t quite settled.“You’re not drawing,” Ivy said gently as she approached, cradling her own mug of coffee. “That’s unlike you.”Isa

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  • 342. Married

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  • 341. A Winter Wedding

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