All Chapters of The Wrong Kind Of Right: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Julian’s head gave a slow, almost imperceptible tilt as he set the glass down. The room wasn’t spinning, not exactly but the edges felt softer, as if the air itself had thickened.He’d had less than half a glass. That wasn’t enough to make him feel this… off.A faint, sour warning curled in his gut. Every instinct honed from years of walking into dangerous negotiations told him the same thing, get out. Now.He shifted forward in the chair, forcing his tone into something casual. “Reid, we can pick this up later. You’ve got my number. I’ll...”“No.”The word was quiet, but it landed like a lock clicking shut.Julian’s gaze sharpened despite the fog starting to creep in around the edges of his focus. “Excuse me?”Reid leaned back, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, the picture of ease, but there was something in his eyes that said he wasn’t moving, and neither was Julian.“You wanted answers,” Reid said smoothly. “I’m giving them to you. Don’t tell me you came all this w

Reid chuckled under his breath. “Such an ugly word… framed. Let’s just say… the narrative was curated.” He moved around to face Julian again, crouching so they were at eye level. “Caldera understood the art of timing. Plant a few pieces of evidence, make sure the right cameras go dark, nudge the right witnesses… Suddenly, the story writes itself.”Julian stared at him, his mind struggling to keep pace through the thickening haze in his head. “But you’re not telling me who really killed Paolo.”Reid’s grin widened, but his eyes remained cold. “And why would I? The truth is far less useful than the story people believe. Besides…” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “…the truth has a way of getting people killed. Ask yourself, are you ready to wear that weight?”Julian’s stomach twisted.He knew Reid was deliberately withholding something vital.That smirk, that careful sidestep, it wasn’t just about protecting himself. It was about power. And right now, Julian was at a disadvantage.“Y

Reid chuckled low, the sound a deep ripple through the air. “What I’m not telling you,” he said, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between them with unhurried steps, “is what you don’t want to know. And trust me, Julian...” he stopped close enough that Julian could see the faint flecks of gold in his irises, “...you don’t want to know.”Julian’s head felt heavier now, a slow, dragging weight that made his vision blur at the edges.The world tilted, just slightly, as though the ground itself had shifted under him. But even through the fog gathering in his mind, Reid’s voice cut through, sharp, deliberate, impossible to ignore.“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” Reid said, his tone maddeningly calm. “The scene. The blood. The look on Paolo’s face before everything went dark.”Julian forced his eyes to focus, blinking hard. “Stop.”But Reid only stepped closer, the smirk gone now, replaced by something colder. “I’ll tell you what really happened, since you seem so desperate f

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

Before Reid and Julian ever reached that grim “crime scene,” there’s a quick, almost throwaway moment in the apartment.Reid, arrogant in his control, didn’t notice Julian palming his phone in his bound hands as they entered his apartment earlier.Julian knows he won’t get far, Reid’s the kind of man who checks everything, but this time, his captor is too focused on gloating, not frisking. The moment Reid had stepped away to pour drinks, Julian thumbs his speed dial.The call connects silently.The call wasn’t to anyone Reid would suspect.It was to Rhea.She was in her tech room, the walls alive with flickering monitors and the faint hum of servers. She’d been tracking Julian’s last known GPS ping after calling him so long and couldn't reach him after the court session when his signal suddenly went dark, blocked.Her lips pressed into a tight line. “Dammit. Circular dampener,” she muttered. But then she glanced at the incoming call. Julian.She swiped instantly. “Jules?” she whispere