Semua Bab The Mafia's Kidnapped Bride: Bab 91 - Bab 98

ArynMy hand froze on the doorknob. Every instinct screamed at me to lock the door, barricade myself in, and pretend I hadn’t heard a damn thing. I was done. Done with the drama, done with the accusations, done with this family and their endless insanity. But the sound… it had been too real, too desperate to ignore.Against my better judgment, I pulled the door open, just a crack at first, then wider, peering out into the hallway. The grand staircase stood a few meters away as I contemplated coming out, but a frantic shuffling sound drew my gaze towards the living area downstairs.Oh! Fuck this.I rushed to the landing, leaning over the railings. And that’s when I saw Claudia.She was usually so composed and impeccably dressed, but now she was sprawled on the polished marble floor of the grand foyer, a crumpled heap of designer fabric and shaking limbs. Her hair was dishevelled, her face streaked with tears, and she was sobbing loudly, like her world had just shattered into a million

ArynRyan grinned like the psychopath I knew him to be. “Now we’re talking.”He reached over to the far desk and pulled up a grainy zoomed-in image of the woman who picked Amelia up. She had on a maid uniform, but her posture was too upright, too confident. Her face was partially turned away from the camera, but you could still make out the smoothness of her skin, the high cheekbones, the sharp jaw.“She’s not a random,” Ryan said, gesturing at the screen. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Trained. Probably ex-military, or cartel. Could be freelance. Either way, she’s good.”Claudia gasped. “No… but—my husband—”“Is useless,” I cut in sharply. “He’s not here. You are. So let’s fucking focus.”Claudia clenched her purse tightly and nodded.“Where would someone like her go?” Marcus asked, folding his arms. “What’s the first move?”Ryan tapped the monitor again. “Well, I tracked the car out of the school zone to a street camera near the west industrial park. After that, it vanishes.

Aryn Brandon. Fucking Brandon. Standing on that stage, bathed in the cruel glow of the chandeliers, a fucking gavel in his hand, his face a mask of detached professionalism as he pointed to the rows of monstrously wealthy bidders. He was auctioning children. My ex-fiancé, the man I’d once thought I loved, was a part of this.Marcus, sensing my sudden rigidity, nudged me. “Aryn? What the hell is it?”I couldn’t speak. I just pointed, a trembling finger aimed at the stage. Marcus followed my gaze, and his eyes narrowed. “Well, I’ll be damned. Brandon Hayes. The little shit cleaned up nice.”“You know him? And for fuck's sake, cleaned up?” I hissed, my voice a raw whisper. “He’s auctioning kids, Marcus! What the fuck is going on?”We had already put on the masks Marcus had procured from the trunk of his car – simple, elegant black half-masks that covered our eyes, common enough in these high-society, illicit gatherings to not draw attention. They were meant to conceal our identities, b

Aryn The moment that bastard clicked the gun, everything went to hell.My body reacted before my brain even caught up. I dropped to the ground, rolling behind a stack of crates just as a bullet tore through the air where my head had been. The crack of the shot echoed like thunder in my ears, and the impact against the wall behind me sent shards of plaster flying."Fuck!" I shouted, landing hard on my elbow. Pain exploded up my arm, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it. I adjusted my grip on my gun and peeked out just in time to see Marcus ducking behind a black sedan.The man in the grey suit was shouting orders, barking like he owned the damn alley. His goons—two bulky men dressed in black—spread out, each aiming in our direction.Marcus fired first.One clean shot to the chest, and the first guy dropped like a sack of meat. His body hit the ground with a disgusting thud. The second guard returned fire blindly, hitting the side of the dumpster I was behind, sending sparks and metal