"The games of kings: Rise of the underdog"

chapter twenty

My heart beat faster with anxiety.

I constantly check my digital wristwatch like my life depended on it. But in truth, my life a tuay depends on whether I got killed or I outlived Eliot and his cronies.

The emergency stairwell was cold, dimly lit, and stank of mildew. My shoes slammed against each step as I climbed higher and higher.

Each thud echoed like a countdown to something I didn’t want to see. Every creak of the metal railing sounded like a footstep behind me. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t afford to.

I reached the final door that led to the rooftop and shoved it open.

The wind hit me instantly—sharp, unrelenting, like it wanted to slap me back inside. The sky above was a dull gray, low-hanging clouds threatening rain.

Perfect.

If it started pouring, I might be able to mask my movements. Or my scent. If the system had scent tracking—I didn’t know how deep this thing went.

I was learning as I moved. Here was me thinking I have finally found a way out for myself. A way to