All Chapters of The Wrong Kind Of Right: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

The scrape of chair legs on concrete echoed like a gunshot when Reid jerked Julian forward.The ropes cut deeper, the bite at his wrists now damp with blood.The chemical fumes were stronger here, searing his nostrils and coating the back of his tongue until it tasted metallic.Reid didn’t hurry. He didn’t need to, he had Julian exactly where he wanted him. Every step was deliberate, calculated, the drag of Julian’s body across the floor more an act of humiliation than transportation.“Ever wonder why I chose this spot?” Reid’s voice was too calm, too casual for the weight of what he was doing.Julian kept his mouth shut. The longer he didn’t give Reid the satisfaction of a response, the better.“Paolo's death as you already know was here,” Reid went on, as if narrating a pleasant stroll through memory lane. “Bushes just over there. Soil still hasn’t settled. I imagine it’ll feel poetic, you following in his footsteps, ending where he did. Maybe the ground will remember you both.”Jul

Reid sneered. “You think you’re the hero here, Rhea? You think Luca’s men make you untouchable? I could end this with one squeeze.” His finger twitched.The muzzle dug deeper into Julian’s temple. “One squeeze, and Asher’s world will crumble. He’ll lose another man who would have died for him. And Asher...” his lips curled into something cruel, “...will hang for Paolo’s death with no one left to prove otherwise.”Julian’s breath hitched. The bastard meant it.But even with death pressing cold against his skull, his voice didn’t tremble. “You’re running scared, Reid,” Julian spat, his words sharp as knives. “You had to drug Asher to erase his memory. You had to frame Paolo’s murder. And now? Now you’re hiding behind me like a coward, praying you can talk your way out. For all your brilliance, Reid, you’re just a man with a gun and no more moves left.”The insult sliced through Reid’s composure. His eyes blazed, his grip trembling with rage. He leaned in, nose almost touching Julian’s,

Rhea sat across from him, hair matted with ash, arms bruised, but her gaze was as sharp as ever.She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her presence alone was a promise: she wouldn’t leave him.Luca lingered in the doorway.He didn’t step closer, not yet. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his suit pants, shoulders rigid, his face unreadable under the fluorescent light. But his eyes, his eyes betrayed him.They weren’t the cold eyes of the CEO, nor the guarded mask he wore before the world.They were storm dark, fractured, hollowed by guilt. He stood there like a man on the edge of a precipice, torn between entering and retreating, between confession and silence.Julian, struggling past the oxygen mask, forced a rasp of a sound. His eyes cracked open, finding Luca.“You… believed him,” he croaked, each word dragging knives through his lungs. “You believed Asher could murder your father.”The accusation hung heavy in the sterile room. Rhea’s gaze flicked toward Luca, sharp as a b

Asher curled forward, his shoulders shaking, silent sobs breaking him in pieces he no longer had the strength to gather.He hated this weakness. He hated the helplessness. He hated that, for the first time in his life, he was chained by more than iron, he was chained by doubt. His own. Luca’s. Everyone’s.The hours dragged on, and the walls pressed closer.The guards barely looked at him anymore, to them, he was already convicted. To the city, he was already guilty.He wanted to scream, but his voice was gone. He wanted to fight, but his body had nothing left. All he could do was sit in the suffocating silence, staring at hands that would forever feel bloodstained.And he didn’t even know, couldn’t know, that beyond the cell walls, everything had shifted. That Luca Virelli, the man who had once condemned him with silence, now carried fire in his veins.That Reid’s confession was in their hands. That the tide was turning.But in here, all Asher felt was the crushing certainty of loss.

Caldera’s glare hardened. “You’re a liability, Reid. You don’t see it, but I do. Every step you take is dripping with obsession, and it’s bleeding into everything I’ve built. If you won’t control yourself, I’ll have someone do it for you.”The man, silent until now, nodded once. “Understood.” His eyes flicked over Reid with the dispassion of a soldier assessing a target, not a companion.Reid smirked faintly, his tongue brushing over his teeth as if amused by the insult. “You think you can cage me, Caldera? That he can keep me in check?” His voice dropped, dark and quiet, the air around him turning sharper. “If I wanted to vanish, I’d vanish. If I wanted to burn this entire rotten house to the ground, not you, not him, not anyone could stop me.”Caldera slammed his fist on the desk again, wincing from the strain. “Enough! You will go. You will lie low. If there’s even a shred of loyalty left in you, to me, to Hartwell, to anyone, you’ll do as I say. Otherwise…” His voice faltered, the