Semua Bab Rival's Contract Marriage : Bab 211 - Bab 220

Cameron POvThe flashing lights felt like they were searing into my skull. Blue, red, blue, red—each pulse a reminder that Drake had slipped away again.I stood there, chest still heaving, sweat and blood mixing on my skin, while Brandon leaned heavy against me. He looked pale, exhausted, but his grip on my sleeve was firm, like he thought if he let go, I’d run after Drake anyway. And maybe he was right.“Cameron Rhodes?” a voice barked. A cop in a bulletproof vest stepped into the beam of his own flashlight, squinting at us like we were suspects instead of survivors. “Hands where I can see them.”I blinked at him, too stunned to move, until Brandon whispered, “Cam, just do it.”So I raised my hands, bloodied knuckles and all, and tried not to scream when cold zip-ties locked around my wrists.“Hey, wait—” Brandon struggled against the officer holding him back. “He’s not the bad guy, okay? He saved me—he—”“Sir, we’ll sort this out at the station,” the cop cut him off, voice like stee

DrakeThe phone buzzed against the table. Again.I slammed my palm down on it before it could vibrate off the edge.“Mom,” I snapped, pressing it to my ear. “You better have good news.”Her voice came out broken, shaking. “He—he turned on me, Drake. Both of them. Cameron brought that boy into this house, and—”I cut her off. “That boy? You mean Brandon.” I spat the name like poison. “I told you to handle Cameron. To remind him where he belongs. And you let him get in your head.”Silence on the other end, her breathing ragged. I could picture her, sitting in that fancy study with the lights too bright, hands shaking around the phone. Pathetic.“They—Cameron and Brandon—they stood together,” she whispered finally, like it hurt her throat to say it. “He chose him over us.”Something in me snapped. I grabbed the empty glass off the table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, shards raining across the floor.“Of course he did,” I snarled. “That’s what he does. He always runs. Alway

Cameron POVThe drive to the station felt like it lasted forever, even though it was barely fifteen minutes. My hands were locked on the steering wheel so tight my knuckles ached. Brandon sat beside me, hood up, staring out the window. His reflection in the glass looked pale, like he was miles away.“You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” I said, breaking the silence.His eyes flicked to me, tired but steady. “No. I need to. I want him gone, Cam. For good.”That settled it.We parked outside the precinct, neon lights buzzing faint against the dark sky. The building loomed like some fortress, but instead of safe, it felt cold. My stomach twisted as we walked in.Inside, the station was all flickering lights, stale coffee, and the faint buzz of late-night exhaustion. A desk sergeant looked up as we approached.“Cameron Hale?” he asked, glancing at me, then Brandon. “Detective Morris said to bring you straight back.”We followed him down the hall, our footsteps too loud on the lino

DrakePatience. That was the key. Always had been.The cops thought they were circling me, like vultures waiting for me to stumble. Cute. They didn’t get it—I wanted them close. I wanted them watching. Because when it all went down, when Cameron finally snapped, they’d see what I’d seen all along.He wasn’t built for Brandon. Not really. And the fact that Brandon still clung to him after everything? That was the real comedy.I stood by the cracked window of the warehouse, cigarette burning slow between my fingers. My phone buzzed once. A man’s voice came over the line, low and uncertain.“Boss, surveillance says the cops are moving more units near the river. You sure we shouldn’t clear out?”I smirked. “Let them come. They think they’re hunting me? No. I’m dragging them into the open. You got the truck ready?”“Yes, but—”“No buts.” I flicked ash onto the floor. “When I say move, you move. Brandon’s the prize. Cameron’s the leash. They’ll both dance when I pull.”The guy muttered a ne

Brandon’s POV)The air was cold enough to bite. I could see my breath fog up the car window as Cameron killed the engine, his jaw locked tight like he was about to walk into a war. The streetlights buzzed above us, throwing pale light over puddles and cracked pavement. Somewhere in the distance, thunder grumbled like a warning.I didn’t say anything at first. My fingers were gripping the seatbelt too tight, like if I let go, I might lose it. The message Drake had sent earlier still burned in my head — ONE HOUR. OR I COME TO YOU. It didn’t sound like a bluff.“So this is it?” I finally said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant. “We’re just… going in?”Cameron didn’t look at me. His eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, scanning the shadows. “We’re not running anymore.”I swallowed. “Cam, this isn’t like before. You said he was dangerous—”“I know,” he snapped, too fast. Then softer, “I know. But he’s not going to stop. If we wait, he’ll find us anyway.”I studied him. His knuckl