Semua Bab Mr. William's Rules: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Rain drummed steadily on the roof of the safehouse as the team spread out across the operations room. The ledger sat open in the center of the table, its yellowed pages filled with scrawled notes and codes.Lily leaned over it, brows furrowed as she traced one of the entries with her finger. “These are account numbers… offshore, in someone else’s name.”Adrian crouched beside her, cross‑referencing with a digital spreadsheet. “Here—see this pattern? It matches the shipments we intercepted last month.”William stood behind them, arms crossed, silent but focused. The storm outside reflected the storm in his mind.Adrian looked up. “Sir, this is enough to start pulling threads. We could leak a page to the authorities anonymously.”“No.” William’s voice was firm, cutting through the room. “If Leonard catches even a whiff that we have this, he’ll burn everything before we can move.”Lily glanced at him, her eyes steady. “So what do we do? Just sit on it?”“We study it,” William said. “We u

The safehouse lights burned through the early hours, a stark contrast to the black windows beyond. Rain ticked softly against the glass as Lily scrolled through the photos she had taken in the container yard, her fingers steady despite the storm in her chest.“These,” she said, turning the tablet toward William and Adrian, “show exact shipment IDs. Some match up with the missing person cases I pulled from the news last month.”Adrian leaned closer, jaw tightening as he scanned the images. “Trafficking routes… blood storage… he’s been running this for years.” He exhaled through his teeth. “Sir, this is enough to bury Leonard if we play it right.”William’s cold, calculated gaze lingered on the photos. “Not yet,” he said softly. “Evidence alone won’t bring him down. We need to know when he moves next. Where he’ll feel untouchable.”Lily looked up from the tablet, her voice quiet but firm. “And then?”“Then,” William said, eyes locking with hers, “we strike hard enough that he doesn’t ge

Natasha’s finger tightened on the trigger. Her wild eyes flicked between William and Lily, her breathing ragged in the shadows of the containers.“You don’t get it,” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling. “He saved me. He gave me hope. And then you showed up—”Lily straightened from behind William, stepping slightly forward despite the gun aimed at her. Her own voice was steady, raw.“And you lied,” she said. “That night at his house—you looked me in the eye and told me I was nothing to him. That he was yours. I left my college, my future, because I believed you.”Natasha’s jaw clenched, tears streaking down her face as rage flared. “Because it’s true! It was supposed to be me!”William’s voice cut through, low and sharp. “Natasha, stop. Whatever happened, this isn’t the way.”But Lily didn’t stop. She took another step. “You can’t keep blaming me for what William chose. He never loved you.”The words struck like a blade. Natasha let out a strangled cry and lunged, knocking the pisto

The safehouse was quiet except for the hum of Adrian’s laptop and the faint rustle of papers as Lily sifted through the stolen documents. Dusty light from a single lamp pooled over the table, catching the determination in her eyes.William leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching them work. He was still streaked with grime from the fight, but his mind was already moving to the next step.Adrian tapped a key, scanning through the decrypted files. “These shipment logs… they tie directly to off‑shore accounts. Sir, this is enough to expose half his operations.”Lily pushed another folder toward him. “Cross‑check these names. Some match with the employee list from Sunflower Company—people who vanished months ago.”Adrian glanced at her, surprised. “You’ve been digging into this for a while, haven’t you?”She didn’t look up. “Since the day I realized Leonard wasn’t just a name on William’s lips. Someone had to start connecting the dots.”William’s voice came from the corner, low

The oak door swung inward with a low groan. The scent of leather and expensive cigars hit William as he stepped into Leonard’s private office, gun drawn, eyes scanning.Leonard Mikhail sat behind a broad mahogany desk, shadows from the lamplight carving harsh lines into his face. His dark suit was immaculate, a glass of brandy in hand, and the faintest smirk curled his lips. Two guards flanked him, rifles ready.“William Thomas,” Leonard drawled, as if greeting an old friend. “I was wondering when you’d finally gather the courage.”William’s grip on his pistol tightened. “Where are the others?” His voice was cold, low, lethal.Leonard chuckled. “Straight to business. Just like your sister was… before she screamed my name.”William’s jaw tightened, the memory of his sister’s murder flashing like lightning behind his eyes. He stepped closer, his gun unwavering. “That’s the last lie you’ll ever tell.”The guards shifted, sensing the tension. Leonard leaned back, sipping his drink. “Do yo