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Chapter 77
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2025-08-15 11:42:19
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THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 87
Chapter 87Jewel The world is plain grey. No, not my surname—the color. Everywhere I look, everything I touch, even the air I breathe feels like ash.I don’t feel like living anymore.My best friend is gone. My denial, my platonic soulmate. The one person who had always understood the parts of me I didn’t even say out loud. And now… he’s nothing. Just a memory, a ghost stitched into the edges of my heart.I sit on the floor of the safehouse, knees pressed to my chest, staring at nothing. The walls, the ceiling, the faint glow of the laptop—they all blur together. Life feels muted, drained of color.I remember him—the way he laughed, always too loud, too brash. The way he teased me mercilessly, like he knew my weaknesses before I did. The stupid, reckless things we did together, the secrets we shared… all gone.If only I had told him I loved him.If only I had listened to my instincts.If only I hadn’t gone to Morocco like I did, inviting danger I couldn’t control.I close my eyes and
THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 86
Chapter 86JaceThe streets of Morocco feel different at night. Shadows stretch longer, alleys narrow, and every corner could hide a threat. I move like a predator, boots silent against the cobblestones, eyes scanning every flicker of movement.Rick’s voice is steady in my ear. “I’ve patched in all the local cameras we can access. Bishop’s men are scattered—some near the docks, others near the old market. You pick your first target.”I tighten my fists. “Docks. They think the water hides them. They’re wrong.”Every step, every heartbeat, is fueled by Jaxon’s last words, by the rage and grief that won’t leave me. I see the first two men near a warehouse, unaware that their game is over before it begins.The fight is quick. Blunt objects, broken bottles, sheer force. I move fast, precise, lethal. No mercy. Every strike carries the memory of Jaxon, every punch a promise that Bishop will pay for what he’s done.Inside the safehouse, Jewel paces quietly. She hasn’t left the room, hasn’t sp
THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 85
Chapter 85JewelThe moment I step inside the safehouse, the smell of blood hits me, sharp and suffocating. My eyes lock on him—Jaxon—lying still on the floor, impossibly quiet.“No… no, no, no!” I stumble forward, hands trembling, but Jace’s hand catches my wrist, firm and steady.“Stay,” he says, voice low but commanding. His eyes never leave Jaxon, but there’s something raw in them—grief, fury, something unrelenting.I shake my head, voice barely audible. “It’s… it’s my fault.”Jace glances at me, startled. “What?”Tears stream down my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have—” My words catch in my throat. “I shouldn’t have been there, not like that. If I hadn’t… if I hadn’t drawn attention…”Jace kneels beside Jaxon, pressing his hands to the wound, his jaw tight. “Jewel, no—”I cut him off, voice breaking. “It’s my fault he’s gone! He… he wanted to tell me something and now he’s gone because I didn’t… because I didn’t see it coming, because I didn’t—”My hands clench at my che
THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 84
Chapter 84JaxonCan I Be Him by James Arthur plays in my head like a cruel echo. My life—my choices—every stupid, reckless, selfish thing I’ve done—are flashing in time with that melody.Long before this, Jewel Grey… Ingrid Bishop… they were my life. I was in denial she wasn’t. She was both wrong and right. The one I fucked behind the church, the one who—God, how could I forget—blowjobed me on the first day of college. Oh, Jewel.And then Jace Grey came back. Suddenly, the world I thought I controlled started crumbling. I was missing her—literally missing her—and watching them flirt was like watching my chest being ripped open in slow motion.I never said it. I never told her the three words. I love you.Now, it doesn’t matter. Now my world is disappearing before my eyes.I feel Jace shaking me, his hands rough but desperate on my shoulders. “Stay with me, Jax! Come on, don’t you dare—”I can’t answer. My chest feels hollow, my arms weak. My mind keeps looping the memories—the first
THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 83
Chapter 83RickMorocco’s streets at night are never silent—but tonight, the noise is wrong.The comm in my ear is alive with footsteps, quick breaths, and Jaxon muttering under his breath as he and Jace track the bodyguard. My laptop glows in the dim hotel room, multiple camera feeds running like veins across the city.“Target’s in the alley east of you,” I guide them. “Looks empty. No eyes except you three.”Then—movement.Figures slipping in from both ends of the alley, cutting them off. My stomach drops.“Jace, you’re boxed.”They don’t draw guns. That’s what’s strange. Instead, they close in with fists, steel pipes, batons—blunt force instead of bullets. I realize why: a gunshot in Morocco’s tourist quarter would bring police swarming in seconds. Bishop’s crew wants this quiet. Clean. Untraceable.The audio in my comm explodes—grunts, curses, the sick thud of punches. I see Jace duck and swing, Jaxon drop one guy with a hook to the jaw. The feed shakes from the motion of the CCTV
THE POSSESSIVE BLOODLINE Chapter 82
Chapter 82RickVacations don’t exist for people like us.Not really. Not when the Bishop name is stitched into your back like a target.The others are scattered—Jace keeping close to Jewel, Jaxon pretending to relax. I’m in the hotel room with the blinds drawn, laptop open, two phones charging beside me. The hum of the air conditioner is the only sound… until the screen lights up with the feed I’ve been pulling from downtown Morocco.One of the street CCTVs caught them earlier—Jewel was walking down the aisle of that market, looking over her shoulder more than once. I’d told myself it was nothing. Crowded streets can do that to anyone.But frame by frame, something shifts.A man’s shadow tracking hers. Not too close. Just enough to keep her in his line of sight.I lean in, fingers flying across the keys, swapping angles between different cameras. I lock onto him. Long coat, cap pulled low. The gait is familiar, but the camera angle is trash.I dig deeper—patch into a security store’s
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