Semua Bab My arranged marriage : Bab 91 - Bab 93

Ray Maverick The hospital corridor was too quiet. Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the pale walls. Nurses moved briskly past me, heads down, their rubber soles squeaking against the floor. I sat in a cold plastic chair outside Lucas’s room, my elbows resting on my knees, my fingers steepled under my chin. I’d made more deals in silence than in boardrooms. I’d survived ambushes in places far darker than this one. But nothing rattled me quite like the sound of nothing at all—especially when someone I cared about was behind a closed door fighting to stay alive. Emma hadn’t left his side for hours. I knew because I hadn’t left the hallway either. I kept hearing the gunshot. The moment I pulled the trigger on Moreau. The moment I chose an end. I told myself it was justice. That it was necessary. But justice doesn’t feel like this. It doesn’t feel like blood drying under your fingernails and the ghost of an old friend’s voice whispering t

The warehouse stank of rust and rot, like old blood and broken promises. I stood in the shadows near the boarded-up entrance, the cold steel of my gun a steady weight in my hand. The night air outside was humid, thick with tension, and too damn quiet for my liking. We were close—too close—to the end. But endings weren’t peaceful in my world. They were loud, messy, and filled with smoke and regrets. Lucas had gone silent on comms five minutes ago. He was supposed to be tailing one of Moreau’s last known lieutenants—a wormy bastard named Claudio who’d turned snitch after realizing Moreau wasn’t the kind of man who took care of his own. I hated snitches. But I hated unfinished business more. And Claudio had information I needed. I crept deeper into the warehouse, my boots whispering over the cracked concrete. Light filtered through a broken window, casting bars of pale moonlight across the floor. My instincts were screaming at me that something was off. Too quiet. No backup