2025-12-24 05:32:08
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Chapter 72
The men laughed harshly, the sound scraping against the refined quiet of the club. One of them leaned forward, resting both hands on the table as he stared Michael down, eyes bloodshot and gleaming with threat. “You got two options, pretty boy,” He said slowly. “You walk back to your seat right now and pretend none of this happened, or we beat you into a pulp right here and use your teeth as decoration for this place.” A murmur rippled through the room. Someone sucked in a sharp breath. Others shifted uncomfortably, torn between fear and morbid curiosity. “Who is that fellow?” Someone asked, a woman sitting in the corner with a female partner. “I don't know but he seems to be overly confident.” The other replied. “I would really love to speak to him after.” “He could just be another proud fool. Let's wait for the outcome of this confrontation.” ‘Oh you're right.” Michael didn’t move. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even change his expression. He simply sighed, “If you’r
Chapter 71
Michael returned the cat gently to Monica’s lap. It settled immediately, curling against her. Monica let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft and genuine kind, and looked up at him with appreciation in her eyes. “Thank you.” She said, “He usually doesn’t chase things like that. Guess the music wasn’t exciting enough for him tonight.” Michael smiled faintly. “Jazz has a way of sneaking up on you. It doesn’t demand attention. It waits until you’re ready to listen.” Her brows lifted slightly, surprised. “That’s… actually a very good way to put it.” She glanced toward the stage, where the band was easing into a slower tune again. “Most people think it’s just background noise.” Michael added calmly, “That’s because they’re listening for noise. Not conversation.” Monica studied him for a moment, curiosity replacing her initial caution. “You sound like someone who knows jazz.” “I’ve been learning.” He admitted, “There’s a lot more to it than people give it credit for.” She was pleased
Chapter 70
As more information about Monica Rivera came in, Michael found himself leaning deeper into his chair, listening with an interest that surprised even him. “Favorite color is green.” Barry said, scrolling through notes on his phone. “Not the flashy kind. Forest green. Calm stuff.” “She loves cats.” Jace added. “Rescues them, actually. Funds shelters quietly. No press.” Michael hummed softly. “That already tells me more than most boardroom profiles ever could.” Barry nodded. “She’s… Normal. Easygoing. Polite to staff. Doesn’t look down on people.” “And here’s the big one.” Jace continued, lowering his voice. “The totem. She keeps it on her at all times.” Michael’s gaze sharpened. “On her?” “Yeah.” Barry said. “Wears it around her neck. Looks like a simple brooch, old design, family heirloom. Most people don’t even notice it.” Michael stood and walked slowly across the room. “That means no vault. No guards rotating shifts. No breaking and entering.” “But it also means we can’t t
Chapter 69
A soft knock echoed through the room. Celia stirred, her thoughts pulling away from the dull ache in her arm. “Come in.” She said quietly. The door opened, and Michael stood there for a moment, one hand resting on the frame. His expression was unreadable, guarded, as though he were bracing himself. Then he stepped aside. Barry and Jace stood behind him. Celia blinked in surprise. Barry was the first to step in. He looked uncomfortable, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tense. Jace followed more slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor. The three men stopped just inside the room, the air thick with unspoken words. Michael stayed near the door, arms crossed, watching. “I… uh,” Barry started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “We’re sorry, Celia. Really sorry.” Jace lifted his head. His voice was quiet, strained. “What happened was our fault. No excuses. We lost control.” Celia sat up slightly, careful of her injured arm. She studied their faces, the gu
Chapter 68
Celia’s scream cut through the house like a blade. Michael had been halfway down the hall when he heard it. For a split second, his mind refused to process the sound. Then instinct took over. He ran. He burst into the kitchen to a scene that made his blood run cold. The pot lay tipped over on the floor, its contents spread across the tiles in a steaming mess. The sharp smell of heat and spices burned the air. Celia was on the ground, clutching her arm, her body shaking violently as she cried out in pain. Her skin was already turning red, angry blisters beginning to rise where the hot liquid had splashed her. Barry and Jace stood frozen on either side of her, the spice jar shattered at their feet. For half a second, Michael didn’t move. Then rage unlike anything he had felt before surged through him. “What the hell did you do?” He roared. Both men flinched. Michael crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees beside Celia. “Hey, hey, look at me.” He said, his voice
Chapter 67
Two weeks passed, and instead of things settling down, they only grew worse. Barry and Jace fought constantly. It wasn’t loud arguments every time, sometimes it was sharp looks, clipped words, doors slammed just a little too hard. Other times, it exploded into full-blown shouting matches that left the air thick and sour. Michael tried everything. He talked to them separately, then together. He reminded them of the mission, of everything they had survived. He warned them, pleaded with them, even snapped at them once or twice when his patience finally ran thin. Nothing worked. Every time it seemed like they might cool off, Mira would appear, leaning too close to Barry, laughing too softly, touching his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jace would see it, his jaw would tighten, and whatever fragile peace existed would shatter again. Michael could feel it draining him. His plans stalled. His thoughts scattered. Their next move, crucial, dangerous, and carefully
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