Vincent’s patience had expired. Brendan’s breath would not draw another. The moment had come to erase him, a final verdict in the merciless calculus of power.
The abrupt shift in events left Jaxen reeling, while Samuel, ordinarily unshakable, faltered briefly, his composure slipping in the face of the unforeseen chaos.
Vincent’s voice sliced through the charged silence like a blade. “Leave the remote untouched. It’s real.”
His words hung in the air like a binding spell, petrifying Samuel and Jaxen where they stood, their bodies rooted by the lethal truth behind his warning.
The remote’s authenticity had blindsided them, but then why wasn’t it working?
A storm of uncertainty brewed within them, but Samuel’s instincts pierced through the chaos, grasping the situation with chilling clarity. He carefully picked up the remote and placed it in a bag.
Jaxen stood alone, bewildered and oblivious to the secret Vincent and Samuel concealed. He opened his mouth to demand answers from Vincent when suddenly, the shrill ring of Vincent’s phone sliced through the tension.
Vincent’s eyes flicked to the caller ID, and he answered without hesitation, “Yes?”
“Vincent, return Ashlyn to the villa immediately. I must operate on her without delay,” Katelyn’s voice insisted, urgency sharpening her tone. A bullet wound to the wrist, if not treated with precision, could condemn Ashlyn to permanent disability. For a jewelry designer, this would be catastrophic, as her injured right hand was the very instrument of her artistry.
Vincent’s gaze swept to Ashlyn, who was crumpling on the floor and trembling with pain. He replied, “Understood.”
Ending the call, Vincent turned to Samuel with a clipped command. “Get Miss Marshall to the villa immediately, then deal with the rest.”
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Samuel grasped Vincent’s intentions effortlessly. Having spent so much time with him, he could anticipate his thoughts. With respectful compliance, he responded to the directive, “Yes, boss!”
Samuel’s men wasted no time; they immediately took Ashlyn back to the villa.
Vincent’s crew moved like clockwork. By the time Jaxen started processing the chaos, they had already erased every trace.
Everyone else had gone. Jaxen stayed behind, frozen in place as he took in the wreckage that used to be the villa.
So, what else had been kept from him all this time? Everyone around him felt like strangers, and the sudden shift left him completely lost. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all hiding something from him. Jaxen hated feeling this helpless, but given how things had unfolded, his hands were tied.
His eyes landed on the bombs mounted on the wall, and right away, the image of the remote control popped into his head. He was halfway to the door when his steps halted without warning. Something clicked in his mind right then and there.
Jaxen’s face lit up with a rush of exhilaration. But the instant he crossed the threshold of the villa, his expression shifted. Grief settled onto his face like a well-worn mask. On the outside, he looked devastated. On the inside, he was quietly celebrating.
.
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