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Chapter 121

Author: Michy Gaza
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-27 18:53:04

Paolo stood alone in his study, one hand gripping the edge of the mantelpiece above the cold fireplace. His other hand shook as he poured a glass of scotch, something he rarely did before noon.

He didn’t drink. Not usually.

But today wasn’t usual.

He looked up at the painting above the fire, an old portrait of his family. Himself in youth, his late wife in pearls, and Luca at ten years old, stiff and serious, already taught how to pose like a Virelli.

He remembered that boy. He remembered the pride, the stubbornness, the gleam of fight in his eyes even then.

And he remembered holding him as a baby. Feeding him. Tucking him in at night.

How had he become this?

A man capable of orchestrating his own son’s abduction?

The question hit like a blade in the gut.

He hadn’t meant for it to go that far.

He hadn’t wanted...

“Mr. Virelli?” One of his senior aides cracked open the door, hesitant. “We have a problem.”

Paolo turned slowly, his voice raw. “Unless it’s about Luca.. get out.”

The aide
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  • The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 211

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  • The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 210

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  • The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 209

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  • The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 208

    Julian’s eyelids felt like they’d been sewn shut.When they finally pried open, the world that greeted him wasn’t the polished, dim lit apartment anymore, it was colder, darker… and reeking faintly of damp concrete and something metallic.His breath came out in ragged bursts, each inhale sharp against the bitter chill in the air.His wrists burned, the skin already raw where coarse rope dug into it, pinning his arms behind the back of a chair.His ankles were bound too, cinched so tightly he could feel the pulse in his feet throbbing against the restraints.It took his disoriented mind a few seconds to register the sound, a slow, deliberate dripping somewhere in the room. And then, the faint scuff of boots on concrete.Reid emerged from the shadows like he had all the time in the world, his face lit only by a swinging bulb overhead.He was holding a glass, swirling something amber inside. “Awake,” he murmured, as if that was all that mattered.Julian swallowed hard, the bitter taste o

  • The Wrong Kind Of Right   Chapter 207

    Reid’s tone took on the slow, patient cadence of someone unwrapping a story they’d been saving for a special audience.“You see, Julian… the beauty of chaos is that people only remember the parts they’re meant to remember. That night, once Paolo was down, I had maybe ninety minutes before the sound carried. And Caldera’s men? They were already in position. I’d made sure of it.”Julian’s vision wavered, the edges of the room bending, but he latched onto every word.“They didn’t even blink when they saw me standing over the body,” Reid went on, his eyes locked on Julian’s like he was testing just how far he could push him. “They moved fast, dragged Paolo’s body deeper into the shadows, rearranged the scene. The bush line was thick enough to hide them from anyone looking out from the street. And the gun? Gone before the echo died. But here’s the masterpiece...” His lips curled in quiet triumph. “They planted traces. Fibers. Prints. A partial shoe tread that just so happened to match a pa

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