Semua Bab The Wrong Kind Of Right: Bab 221 - Bab 230

Ana leaned on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, eyes glued to the screen as if the confirmation would vanish if she blinked.The words Reid had said earlier that night burned through her again.“Run a full forensic integrity sweep,” she muttered. “I want every byte of this file mapped. If defense needs it bulletproof, I’ll hand them bulletproof.”The lead tech nodded. “You’ll have a verified report within forty eight hours. But Detective…” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “If this goes to trial, it’ll flip the whole case. You realize that, right?”Ana’s jaw tightened. She had realized it the moment she hit play. “Yeah. I realize it.”Asher sat in his cell, head bent into his hands, the world pressing down until it was suffocating.He stared at the concrete floor, a dull gray blur beneath his bloodshot eyes. His wrists bore the faint red marks from cuffs, his knuckles were split from clenching too hard. The silence around him wasn’t peaceful, it was heavy, suffused with despair.For

The prosecution scrambled. One lawyer rifled frantically through his notes, papers spilling across the table, while the lead prosecutor tried to recover ground.“This doesn’t change the physical evidence,” he argued, voice tight, but it sounded less like confidence and more like panic. “The gun, the blood, the...”“The gun that had no prints,” the defense cut in smoothly, their voice slicing through the chamber, “and the blood that could easily have been planted by the very people in this recording. How convenient that you are so eager to ignore context when context is what reveals the truth.”The prosecutor went red, sputtering, his authority crumbling right there in front of the jury.The gallery fed off the spectacle, voices buzzing, gasps and murmurs trading across the benches. One journalist even leapt halfway out of her seat, scribbling so fast her pen nearly snapped. The headline was already writing itself.The judge slammed his gavel again, fury etched in the lines of his face

The hours after court were a blur of movement and urgency.Detective Ana Weller had barely stepped back into her precinct when the weight of the situation pressed down hard.The confession recording had shaken the court, yes, but without Reid himself in custody, the defense still had to fight uphill.The prosecution could argue fabrication, manipulation, anything to cast doubt. They needed Reid. Alive. Cornered.That was when the uneasy alliance truly formed.Inside Wolfe Guard’s temporary headquarters, a war room was assembled. Maps unrolled across the table. Screens flickered with live surveillance feeds, heat signatures, traffic routes. The tension was a live wire in the air.Julian, pale and still bandaged from his ordeal, sat stiffly in a chair he didn’t belong in, flanked by Wolfe Guard men who refused to let him move without eyes on him.His presence alone drew sidelong glances, he knew Reid. He knew his patterns, his impulses, and that made him valuable.Opposite him, Luca sto

“They knew,” Luca’s head of security, Rinaldi, said grimly, stepping in behind her. “They knew we were coming.”The words sank like a stone in Ana’s chest.Her team fanned out, boots crunching over broken glass and damp concrete.They opened side rooms, kicked open doors, each one as empty as the last.Maps still pinned to corkboards, half packed duffel bags tossed aside. Signs of life, but not a soul in sight.Julian from Wolfe Guard strode in, his voice sharp. “Look at this...” He pointed toward a laptop left open on a steel table. Its screen glowed faintly, lines of code frozen mid execution. “They didn’t even shut it down. They left in a rush.”Ana moved closer, eyes narrowing. “Not a rush. A signal. They wanted us to see this.”She touched the edge of the laptop, resisting the urge to slam it shut. Every instinct screamed that this wasn’t an escape, it was a message.From the corner, one of the officers called out, “Detective! Over here!”Ana crossed the room, finding him crouche

Luca sat there, stone faced, taking it. Not a muscle moved. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his face. But inside, every accusation carved deeper into the cracks already splitting him apart.He thought of Asher, of the courtroom, of that hollow look in his eyes, like a man who had already said his last goodbye.Luca had doubted him once, and it had destroyed everything. Now he was paying for it with his empire.And maybe with the last of himself.He met the board’s eyes one by one, his voice finally cutting through the tension like a blade.“You think I don’t know the cost? You think I don’t know what this company stands to lose? But you forget, without me, without the Virelli name, there is no empire to protect.”The words hung heavy in the room. Defiant. Ruthless. But beneath the steel, his chest burned with the truth he could never say aloud: I am breaking. And I don’t know if I can hold it all together anymore.The silence after Luca’s words stretched thin, brittle as glass. For a