2026-05-28 15:45:08
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Chapter 84. Isabella's Secret Plans
The room fell quiet after Coyote finished speaking.For several seconds, the only sound was the faint scratching of Detective Barbara Chen’s pen moving across paper. She stood near the coffee table, writing quickly, her expression unreadable as she documented every detail Coyote had just revealed about his night inside Aldo Lucci’s residence.Coyote leaned back against the couch, exhaustion finally catching up with him. Reliving the events out loud had drained whatever energy he had left. The wine, the garage, Aldo’s unsettling familiarity, Vincent’s hostility, all of it replayed again in his mind as if he had just walked out of the mansion moments ago.Chen stopped writing.She looked up at him.“Is that all?” she asked.Coyote nodded once. “Yes.”The detective studied him for a brief moment, judging whether he was withholding anything. Then she closed her notebook halfway, her face still serious.“With what you just told me,” she said, “it’s clear that Aldo and Vincent don’t get alo
Chapter 83. The Asset
The silence stretched longer than anyone in the room seemed comfortable with. Detective Barbara Chen stood motionless near the center of the living room, her posture straight, hands loosely folded behind her back as if she were conducting an interrogation inside a federal office instead of a private home. Her sharp eyes never left Coyote’s face. Coyote, meanwhile, paced slowly across the room, still trying to process what she had just said. Asset. The word echoed in his head like a gunshot that refused to fade. Chen finally spoke again, her tone calm but firm, repeating herself as though addressing someone slow to understand. “In case there was any confusion, Mr. Watkins,” she said, “you will be assisting the FBI as an asset in taking down the Lucci crime family.” Coyote stopped pacing. He turned toward her slowly, exhaustion and irritation mixing across his face. “I heard you loud and clear, Detective. My ears works just fine,” he said flatly. Then his expression hardened. “
Chapter 82. Coyote Meets Detective Chen
Something told him this wasn’t a friendly visit.Coyote remained standing near the door, one hand still resting against it as if he might need to slam it shut at any moment. The morning light creeping through the windows suddenly felt intrusive, exposing too much, revealing too many things he wasn’t ready to deal with yet.The Asian woman moved further into the living room without waiting for permission, her eyes scanning the space with quiet efficiency. Not out of curiosity. It felt like she was conducting an assessment.She noted exits. Windows. Blind spots.Coyote noticed that she noticed.That alone made his pulse quicken.Still confused, Coyote finally asked, “Okay… who are you?”The woman didn’t answer immediately. She paced slowly across the sitting room, heels clicking softly against the floor. The silence stretched just long enough to make him uncomfortable before she turned and walked straight toward him.Up close, her expression was calm but cold, the kind of calm that came
Chapter 81. Vincent's Plaything
Vincent slammed the door to his room so hard the walls seemed to shudder in response.Inside, soft lighting cast warm shadows over silk sheets and expensive furniture, everything designed to soothe, to flatter, to remind him of his status. None of it worked.A pretty woman in black lace panties and a matching bra gasped, startled out of her thoughts."God! You scared me."Vincent didn’t answer. He barely acknowledged her presence at all. His eyes flicked in her direction for half a second before he looked away, jaw clenched, chest rising and falling too fast. His mind was elsewhere, stuck in that sitting room, replaying every word, every look, every humiliation.His father’s voice.Coyote standing there.That smug, infuriating smirk.Vincent crossed the room like a storm, his movements sharp and erratic. He opened a small compartment near the wall and pulled out a bottle of vodka. His hands shook as he grabbed a glass, trying to pour, but the image hit him again, Aldo handing Coyote t
Chapter 80. Touring The Garage
Coyote tilted the glass back and chugged the rest of the wine in one go. The rich liquid burned slightly as it slid down his throat, leaving warmth in its wake. Aldo watched him closely, his sharp green eyes following every movement, every swallow, as if he were measuring something more than Coyote’s tolerance for alcohol."Okay, Sir, I don’t mind a tour of your huge house this late at night."Aldo chuckled, clearly amused, and glanced at his Rolex, the watch catching the light as he lifted his wrist. "Come on, it's just 11pm. Follow me. This won't take long."Coyote nodded and followed him through the door, stepping into a corridor so wide it felt more like a gallery than a passageway. The marble floor gleamed beneath soft recessed lighting, footsteps echoing faintly with every step they took. The walls were lined with art, paintings, sculptures, framed photographs, each one screaming money even to someone like Coyote, who didn’t care much for such things.As they walked, Coyote’s bo
Chapter 79. Father And Son Issue
Aldo turned to face Vincent with a coldness that seemed to suck the warmth out of the room. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. It was worse than that, quiet, controlled, final. The kind of look that made grown men straighten their backs without realizing they were doing it. Coyote felt it before he fully understood it. A chill crawled down his spine, sharp and instinctive, like his body had picked up on danger faster than his mind could process it. This wasn’t a father scolding a son. This was a king reminding someone of their place. Vincent, to his credit, didn’t crumble. He stood his ground, shoulders squared, jaw tight, like someone who had rehearsed this confrontation a thousand times in his head but still wasn’t sure how it would end. “I guess what they are saying is true. The little power I gave you has gotten to your head, that is the only explanation for talking to me in that tone.” The words landed heavy. Vincent visibly staggered back a step, not from fear, but from the
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