Lahat ng Kabanata ng Rise Of The Betrayed Omega : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

**Stella's POV** I look back at Sabrina. She's pushed herself up to sitting, watching me with eyes that understand exactly what I'm facing. "If I don't make it—" My voice cracks. "—tell Noah and Maya that I loved them." Sabrina's face crumples. "Stella—" But I'm already being dragged away, down the corridor toward the arena where the crowd is chanting, thirsting for my blood. The guards shove me through a door into a small preparation room. Concrete walls, a single bare bulb hanging overhead, and a woman waiting with a medical kit. "Strip," she orders. "What?" "Your pajamas. They're already torn. You fight in athletic gear." She gestures to a pile of clothing on a bench—black shorts and a sports bra. I want to refuse and maintain some shred of dignity. But what's the point? I strip mechanically, changing into the fighting gear. The material is tight, unforgiving, designed to allow maximum mobility. The woman approaches with the medical kit. "Any injuries I s

**Stella's POV** Sabrina's confusion vanishes, replaced by something calculating. “I went to talk to Stella,” she says. Her voice softens, dips into something fragile and vulnerable. “I wanted to reason with her. She’s taking Noah away from his birthright, and I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen. I thought—if I talked to her calmly, maybe she’d listen—” What? Rage coils tight around my chest. After everything I did for her, she’s lying. Again. "That's a lie." The words rip out of me before I can stop them. Three pairs of eyes snap to me. I'm still slumped against the wall, probably looking half-dead, but I force myself to meet Cole's gaze. "That's not what happened," I continue, my voice rough. "She didn't come to talk. She had rogues kidnap me from my home, drug me, and drag me to Hank's warehouse. I woke up tied to a spelled rope while she stood there taunting—" "She's lying!" Sabrina cuts in, her voice rising. "Cole, please, you have to believe me! I would nev

**Stella's POV** "I didn't plan anything." Cole's smile says otherwise. "Sabrina made her own choices. I just... took advantage of an opportunity when it presented itself." "You're going to let me lose my son—" "I'm going to let you face the consequences of your actions," he corrects. "You filed that custody case. You dragged me before the Council. You tried to take my heir away from me. Did you really think there wouldn't be repercussions?" "He's my son too—" "Not after two o'clock, he won't be." Cole checks his watch with deliberate casualness. "You have approximately three hours and forty-five minutes to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess. Better start thinking fast." Sabrina is watching this exchange with barely concealed glee. "Come on, baby. Let's not waste any more time on her." "You're right." He turns away. "She's not worth it." "Wait!" The scream tears out of me. "Cole, please! I'm begging you! Just—just pay the ransom! I'll do anything! I'll drop

**Shawn's POV** The secret location Konstantin wanted me to meet him alone is an abandoned textile factory that sits on the edge of nowhere—exactly where rogues like Konstantin prefer to conduct business. No witnesses. No cameras. Just rusted metal and broken dreams. I pull my SUV into the gravel lot and kill the engine. Through the windshield, I count at least fifty vehicles. Maybe more hidden behind the main building. Konstantin didn't come alone. He brought an army. That's good because we're going to need one to take down Hank and his men. I check my watch: 11:07 AM. Less than three hours until Stella needs to pick up her son. The air bites cold as I step out of the SUV. January in the city is unforgiving—gray skies, wind that cuts through leather, the kind of weather that makes you want to stay in bed. But I haven't slept since I got the call about Stella. I move toward the east entrance, my boots crunching on broken glass. The factory door hangs crooked on its hin

** Shawn's POV** Hank's underground arena is exactly as horrible as I imagined. We enter through the main access tunnel, a concrete passage that slopes downward into the earth. Konstantin and I are dressed in tailored suits, expensive without being flashy. No need to play a role—we look exactly like the kind of men who would bankroll a place like this. Six of Konstantin's men accompany us, similarly dressed, playing the role of associates. The rest are positioned outside, ready to move when we give the signal. "Remember," I murmur to Konstantin as we approach the entrance. "We're just customers. Interested in the fights. Nothing more." "Da. I am excellent actor." His smile is all teeth. A guard stops us at the door—one of Hank's men, armed and suspicious. "Invitation?" he grunts. "We're associates of Sokolov," Konstantin says smoothly, dropping a name I recognize—one of Hank's regular high-rollers. "He told us about today's special event. Said there is a new fighter