Semua Bab Fool Me Once: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Jeffery’s POVCassie's engine might have been radioactive. We stared at it for almost twenty minutes in silence, as if it would somehow declare an answer to all things if we held out long enough."Attorney General Karen Holt," I said, attempting to be confident. "She is our best hope."Cassie's expression was stern, her muscles tense and coiled. "You said she tried to investigate Ethan in the past, and he shut her down. How is this going to be any different now?""Since then," I continued, increasing the pressure, "we have more than a rumor. We have blueprints to his entire empire of deception."Cassie agreed and got up from her seat. "Let's do it. I'll set up the meeting."An hour later, we were speeding along in a black SUV that a rather taciturn colleague who owed me a favor from my corporation days lent me. The city flew past behind a blur of lights, but I barely saw it. I held a single hand against the interior of my jacket, right over the hidden pocket that housed the drive.Eve

Jeffery’s POVThen comes a moment after trapping the monster when you crave quiet. Quietude. Victory.And all that you get is echoes. Echoes of indefinite screams and unpaid bills and greater sadder truths.Ethan Carter was in federal custody. Attorney General Holt's investigative team had dismantled his network. News media organizations began to publish stories about fraud, blackmail, and conspiracy. Rumors were now front-page stories.And I wasn't yet asleep anyway.I sat on the balcony of the safe house that I now shared with Cassie under watch, holding an unopened scotch in my palm. Below was a city full of radiant false hope—glowing, sparkling, and insistent that nothing ever went wrong.Cassie trailed silently behind me."You didn't even touch it," she exclaimed, crossing her arms.This tastes like defeat.She sat beside me in one chair. "You should be glad. He's behind bars now.""I see," I looked up at the sky. "And yet I don't experience it."Cassie tossed her head. "That's b

Cassie’s POVZurich greeted us with coldness.Not the kind that became lodged in bone—but the kind that skimmed along the top of your neck and whispered in your ear: You're being watched.I buckled my trench coat tight as I stepped out onto the tarmac. Pre-dawn mist veiled the wheels of the private aircraft with ghosts' cold breaths. Beside me, Jeffery's massive muscular frame was impossibly stiff—like a sculpture chiseled out of tension and determination.He never lost that fighter's build: broad shoulders, chiseled forearms as if he'd spent more time in a gym than a conference room, and those hard green eyes that cut through people as if he employed X-rays to get through them. But now he wore an added dimension. An added hardness. His jaws set in a manner that said he wasn't here to scoop up a file and depart. He'd come to end the war.And I stood directly beside him.I caught a glimpse of me in the reflective SUV window as I got in. My hips swayed as I walked in, full and unembarra

Cassie’s POVCertain kinds of silence taste like metal—blood, fear, secrets. The type that hung between Jeffery and me as the sun rose over Hong Kong the next morning.We had stopped the fail-safe.The Widow was dead.The virus was contained.But we both knew something was still wrong.Jeffery stood shirtless at the rooftop's edge, the early golden light playing off his carved shoulders and muscular back. His skin was marked with the bruises of last night's fight, but he stood like marble: proud, battered, unyielding. His strength wasn't just in his size—it was in how he refused to break, no matter how many pieces the world tried to shatter him into.My eyes trailed down from his strong neck to the V-line at his waist. Even his scars were beautiful. He looked like a fallen god, bruised but burning.I stepped out, my robe clinging to the curves of my hips and thighs, cinched tight around my full bust. The silk whispered against my skin with every step. I didn't say his name. I didn't n

Jeffery’s POVDetroit was colder than I remembered—brutal, industrial, unforgiving. The city had always held a grim sort of poetry, but tonight, beneath steel-gray skies and the looming shadow of abandoned skyscrapers, it felt like a tomb.Cassie stepped out of the jet in front of me, the wind catching her long, dark curls as she pulled her coat tighter around her lush figure. The sleek black trench hugged her full hips and cinched her waist, and even under duress, she moved like a woman who owned the world. Her eyes were sharp, focused—warrior eyes.She turned to me, her gaze cutting through the night. “Let’s find her.”I nodded, jaw clenched. Lena. My cousin. My little shadow. The girl who used to braid Cassie’s hair on lazy Sunday afternoons. The one I taught to tie her first scarf when Michigan’s winters hit like a hammer.Now, she was working with Ethan.And it was my fault.We navigated the decaying industrial zone, guided by the blinking dot on our tracker. Ethan’s prototype la