Lahat ng Kabanata ng Sweet Unhappy Heart: Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

Third person's POV Astor Sinclair sat behind his desk like a king on a throne, fingers steepled beneath his chin, staring at the cityscape beyond his floor to ceiling windows. The view was spectacular. Forty-two floors up, the city spread out below him like a kingdom he'd built with his own two hands and a willingness to do whatever it took to stay on top.The abstract art on the walls that cost more than most people made in a year. Everything was designed to intimidate, to remind anyone who walked through that door that Astor Sinclair was not a man to be trifled with.His personal assistant, a nervous young man, knocked softly on the door before entering."Mr. Sinclair? I'm sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor."Astor didn't turn around. Just kept staring at the city below. "I don't have any appointments scheduled for this afternoon.""No, sir. But it's Barrister Lincoln. He says it's urgent."Now Astor turned. Lincoln was his lawyer. Had been for fifteen years. The man didn't

Third person's POV Avery's face went red. Not the pretty kind of red that made women look delicate and feminine. The angry kind. The kind that said she was two seconds away from throwing something."I made a mistake," she said, her voice rising. "A huge, terrible mistake. And I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life. But I'm still his sister. And I still love him. So hate me all you want, but I'm staying."Janet opened her mouth to respond, probably with something cutting and deserved, but Avery wasn't finished."And mind you, I'm not talking to you." She pointed at Janet like she was a particularly annoying insect. "I'm talking to Liam. You might not want to eat. But I want him to eat. Because he is not going to die of hunger while sitting here watching Jackson."Liam didn't say anything. Just kept holding Jackson's hand, his thumb tracing circles on Jackson's palm. The same motion over and over. A rhythm that kept him grounded. Kept him from thinking too hard about how still

Third person's POV Avery woke up to her phone buzzing on the nightstand like an angry wasp. She reached for it without opening her eyes, her hand fumbling across the surface until her fingers closed around it.The screen was too bright. She squinted at it, her brain still foggy with sleep.Astor Sinclair.Her stomach dropped.She sat up, the movement making her head spin slightly. Morning sickness. Or maybe just fear. With Astor, the two felt pretty much the same.She answered. "Hello?""We need to meet." Astor's voice was cold. Clipped. The tone he used when he was pissed off and trying not to show it. "Today. This morning.""I'm at the hospital. Jackson is—""I don't care where you are. Be at my office in one hour."He hung up before she could respond.Avery stared at the phone, her heart hammering against her ribs. Nothing good ever came from Astor demanding a meeting. Nothing.She dragged herself out of bed, her pregnant belly making everything harder. Getting dressed. Putting on

Third person's POV Mackenzie's phone buzzed. A text from Ella.Ella: Two more bounty posts just went up. Location narrowed to I-87 corridor. They're closing in."Shit," Mackenzie muttered, pressing harder on the accelerator. "We've got company coming. Or we will soon."Torres checked his weapon. "How do you want to play this?""Fast. We get in, we get Caruso, we get out. No conversation. No negotiation. We grab him and go."The truck stop appeared after forty minutes of driving. It was exactly what Mackenzie expected. A dingy place that had probably been built in the seventies and hadn't been updated since. Flickering neon signs advertising cheap food and cheaper gas. The kind of place where cash was king and nobody asked questions.A handful of big rigs were parked in the lot, drivers sleeping in their cabs or taking a break inside. A few cars scattered around. An old pickup truck that looked like it might not start again. Nothing that screamed danger, but everything that whispered

Third person's POV Astor Sinclair stood in his penthouse office, a glass of scotch in one hand that had gone warm and forgotten, staring at the television screen like it held the secrets to his own execution.Which, in a way, it did.The news footage played on loop. Vincent Caruso in handcuffs. FBI agents surrounding him. The armored transport. The dramatic police chase that had ended with multiple vehicles destroyed and his carefully constructed empire starting to crack at the seams."Son of a bitch," Astor muttered, his jaw tight enough to shatter teeth.He'd paid Caruso well over the years. Hundreds of thousands of dollars to be his cleaner. His problem solver. The man who made inconvenient people disappear.And now Caruso was going to bury him.His phone rang. The ringtone he'd assigned to his lawyer. Astor grabbed it."Lincoln.""Have you seen the news?" Barrister Lincoln's voice was strained. Panicked in a way Astor had never heard before. "Tell me you've seen the news.""I'm w