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69. A Chance To Ruin
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2025-08-07 07:09:58
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I AM YOURS TO PLAY 105. Hang In There
Chapter 105: Hang In There ETHAN’S POVThe Miami field office buzzed with the hum of phones and keyboards, the air sharp with tension and stale coffee, my desk cluttered with case files I no longer cared about. A year had passed since Lucian’s sentencing—two years of minor syndicate charges, a chance at parole in months if we appealed, but he wanted to serve it out, my stubborn Reaper. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes on the window, Miami’s skyline glittering, my heart heavy with a truth I’d carried for months: the FBI didn’t deserve me. Even they knew the truth, their guilt gnawing at them despite the weird promotion they gave me. Hayes, Ryan, the corrupt bastards who framed Lucian and left me for dead—they were gone, executed for their betrayal, their deaths a cold justice I’d witnessed, their blood on the floor a reminder of the agency’s failure. Yet, the badge on my hip felt like a chain, my purpose eroded by their lies. The door creaked, my foster mother’s voice grating, he
I AM YOURS TO PLAY 104. Exile's Return
Chapter 104: Exile’s ReturnMARCO’S POVThe Miami sun blazed through the condo’s floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden streaks across the hardwood, the air heavy with the scent of whiskey and regret. I stood outside Ethan’s door, my knuckles hovering, my heart pounding, my guilt a weight I couldn’t shake. Lucian was in jail, serving two years for minor syndicate charges, his freedom a faint hope with a possible appeal. Ethan was back, alive, a miracle that shattered my world in a good and sad way. I’d lost everything—my best friend, my brother, the man I’d loved in secret, all because I was envious of his love story with Ethan Caldwell. I’d betrayed them, let jealousy twist me, and now I had nothing left but apologies and a one-way ticket out of this city.I knocked, my breath shallow, my boots scuffing the floor. The door creaked open, Ethan turning from the window, shirtless, his skin taut over lean muscle, his bandages stark against his torso, his eyes sharp despite the pain et
I AM YOURS TO PLAY 103. Court Of Truth
Chapter 103: Court Of TruthLUCIAN’S POVThe courtroom’s fluorescent lights buzzed, casting harsh shadows on the polished wood benches, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and tension. My orange jumpsuit chafed, my cuffs bit into my wrists, my body slumped in the defendant’s chair, my heart a hollow ruin. A month of hearings had drained me—each session dragging, each adjournment a delay to the inevitable. The prosecutor piled lies on lies: I didn’t just kill Ethan, they said, I had my men hide his body to cover it up. Drug trafficking, human trafficking, the murders of those women in D.C., the train heist—all of Viktor Salazar’s and Director Hayes’ sins, pinned on me to bury their corruption. I didn’t care. Ethan was gone, his blood was still on my hands, because his sacrifice was my failure. I just wanted the verdict, the cell or maybe the chair—anything to end this charade and join him in the dark.The courtroom buzzed, reporters scribbling, spectators whispering, my enfo
I AM YOURS TO PLAY 102. Survivor's Fight
Chapter 102: Survivor’s FightETHAN’S POVThe hospital room was a sterile prison, the air thick with antiseptic, the monitors’ beeps a relentless pulse, my body a battleground of pain—my abdomen wrapped in bandages, my left arm locked in a sling, my head a fog of fractured shadows. I lay propped against the pillows, my eyes heavy, my heart pounding with an ache I couldn’t name, a voice echoing in my skull—Butterfly, don’t leave me—a man’s face flickering, dark eyes sharp, jaw carved, his touch a ghost I couldn’t grasp. The TV flickered on the wall, its light harsh, the news anchor’s voice slicing through the haze like a blade. “Lucian Moretti appeared in court today for his third hearing, steadfast in his guilty plea for the murder of FBI agent Ethan Caldwell, alongside charges of drug trafficking, human trafficking, and money laundering…”My breath stopped, my eyes snapping to the screen, Lucian’s face filling it—ragged, hollow, his orange jumpsuit stark, his cuffs glinting under fl
I AM YOURS TO PLAY 101. Shattered Recall
Chapter 101: Shattered RecallETHAN’S POVONE MONTH LATER“Butterfly… butterfly…” The whisper slithered through the fog of my mind, soft, desperate, a voice heavy with pain, tugging at my chest like a fading lifeline. My body felt anchored, heavy, trapped in a void where shadows danced and silence screamed. “Ethan… Ethan…” The voice sharpened, a plea, a pulse, my heart stuttering, my fingers twitching, my breath caught in a cage of darkness. The whispers morphed into a high-pitched beep, relentless, piercing, dragging me up from the abyss, my eyes twitching, refusing to open, my world a swirl of pain and nothingness.My eyelids cracked, light stabbing through, a blinding white haze searing my vision. I blinked, my head throbbing, my surroundings a blur—white walls smeared with shadows, a blinking monitor, tubes snaking from my arm, the air sharp with antiseptic. My chest burned, my abdomen a furnace of agony, a raw, guttural “Agh!” ripping from my throat as I tried to sit up, my b
I AM YOURS TO PLAY 100. Reaper's Reckoning
Chapter 100: Reaper’s Reckoning LUCIAN’S POVThe van’s engine rumbled, the cuffs biting my wrists, my body jolting as we rolled toward the courthouse, Miami’s skyline a blur through the barred window. My eyes burned, my heart a hollow ruin, Ethan’s face etched in every shadow—his smile gone, his blood on my hands, his sacrifice a wound that wouldn’t close. Two weeks in jail had stripped me bare, my cell a tomb, my nights haunted by his voice, his laugh, his touch. The FBI pinned his death on me, their charges—murder, drug trafficking, human trafficking, a string of crimes I never touched—twisting the knife deeper. I didn’t care. Ethan was dead, and I deserved the gallows, the chair, anything to join him.The van stopped, the courthouse looming, its stone facade cold under the morning sun. Guards yanked me out, my boots dragging, my orange jumpsuit stark, my face gaunt. An attorney waited, his suit sharp, his briefcase clutched, his eyes wide. “Lucian Moretti,” he said, his voice fi
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