Lahat ng Kabanata ng I AM YOURS TO PLAY: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 107

Chapter 101: Shattered RecallETHAN’S POVONE MONTH LATER“Butterfly… butterfly…” The whisper slithered through the fog of my mind, soft, desperate, a voice heavy with pain, tugging at my chest like a fading lifeline. My body felt anchored, heavy, trapped in a void where shadows danced and silence screamed. “Ethan… Ethan…” The voice sharpened, a plea, a pulse, my heart stuttering, my fingers twitching, my breath caught in a cage of darkness. The whispers morphed into a high-pitched beep, relentless, piercing, dragging me up from the abyss, my eyes twitching, refusing to open, my world a swirl of pain and nothingness.My eyelids cracked, light stabbing through, a blinding white haze searing my vision. I blinked, my head throbbing, my surroundings a blur—white walls smeared with shadows, a blinking monitor, tubes snaking from my arm, the air sharp with antiseptic. My chest burned, my abdomen a furnace of agony, a raw, guttural “Agh!” ripping from my throat as I tried to sit up, my b

Chapter 103: Court Of TruthLUCIAN’S POVThe courtroom’s fluorescent lights buzzed, casting harsh shadows on the polished wood benches, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and tension. My orange jumpsuit chafed, my cuffs bit into my wrists, my body slumped in the defendant’s chair, my heart a hollow ruin. A month of hearings had drained me—each session dragging, each adjournment a delay to the inevitable. The prosecutor piled lies on lies: I didn’t just kill Ethan, they said, I had my men hide his body to cover it up. Drug trafficking, human trafficking, the murders of those women in D.C., the train heist—all of Viktor Salazar’s and Director Hayes’ sins, pinned on me to bury their corruption. I didn’t care. Ethan was gone, his blood was still on my hands, because his sacrifice was my failure. I just wanted the verdict, the cell or maybe the chair—anything to end this charade and join him in the dark.The courtroom buzzed, reporters scribbling, spectators whispering, my enfo

Chapter 105: Hang In There ETHAN’S POVThe Miami field office buzzed with the hum of phones and keyboards, the air sharp with tension and stale coffee, my desk cluttered with case files I no longer cared about. A year had passed since Lucian’s sentencing—two years of minor syndicate charges, a chance at parole in months if we appealed, but he wanted to serve it out, my stubborn Reaper. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes on the window, Miami’s skyline glittering, my heart heavy with a truth I’d carried for months: the FBI didn’t deserve me. Even they knew the truth, their guilt gnawing at them despite the weird promotion they gave me. Hayes, Ryan, the corrupt bastards who framed Lucian and left me for dead—they were gone, executed for their betrayal, their deaths a cold justice I’d witnessed, their blood on the floor a reminder of the agency’s failure. Yet, the badge on my hip felt like a chain, my purpose eroded by their lies. The door creaked, my foster mother’s voice grating, he

Chapter 107: A New Dawn ETHAN’S POV The office smelled of cedar and old books, a scent that grounded me as I leaned forward in my chair, elbows on my knees, watching the boy across from me. His name was Caleb, sixteen, with a mop of dark curls and eyes that darted like a cornered animal’s. His knuckles were bruised, his lip split, and the way he hunched in the chair screamed of a kid who’d learned to make himself small. I knew that posture too well—had worn it myself for years, back when my foster parents’ house was a cage and every word from their mouths was a lash. “Caleb,” I said, keeping my voice low, steady, “you don’t have to shrink. Not here. This is your safe space.” He glanced up, mistrust flickering in his eyes. His father had caught him kissing a boy behind the school gym, and the fallout had been brutal. A belt, a fist, a litany of slurs that carved deeper than the bruises. I listened as he spilled it all, his voice cracking, his hands twisting the hem of his hoodie. E