บททั้งหมดของ The Bet That Ruined Us : บทที่ 161 - บทที่ 170

The words rang in Grayson's ears like gunshots. Over and over and over. Your daughter is going blind. Your daughter is going blind. Your daughter is going blind. It did not make sense. None of it made any goddamn sense. Monica had tampered with Angel's eyes. She had performed surgery on a child. On her own child. Changed her eye color to blue. To match his eyes. Why? What kind of mother did that? What kind of sick, twisted person performed cosmetic surgery on a six-year-old just to make her look more like the father who did not even know she existed? Grayson felt bile rising in his throat. He felt his hands starting to shake. He clenched them into fists and forced himself to focus on the doctor standing in front of him. "What do you suggest I do, doctor?" Grayson asked. His voice was hoarse. Strained. Like someone had taken sandpaper to his vocal cords. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What are my options here? What can we do to fix this?" The doctor looked down at his tab

[GRAYSON CROSS MANSION MORNING] "Angel!" Ayven's voice rang through the hallway. Loud and impatient. "We are going to be late! Get up!" He was already dressed for school. His backpack slung over one shoulder. His hair was combed neatly to the side the way Shayla used to do it. "I am coming!" Angel's voice came from inside her room. Muffled. Slightly panicked. Ayven did not wait. He pushed open her door and walked right in without asking permission. This had become their routine over the past month. Ayven barging into her room. Angel pretending to be annoyed but secretly pleased that he cared enough to check on her. Angel was standing in front of her full-length mirror. Putting on her glasses. The new ones the doctor had prescribed after the surgery. Black rectangular frames that looked too big for her small face. But somehow they suited her. Made her look smart. Studious. Like a tiny professor. "You woke up late today," Ayven said. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his

[IVAN'S MANSION - LIVING ROOM] "Have you gotten everything ready?" Ivan demanded the moment Monica walked into the room. She was wearing all black. Tactical gear. Her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Face hard and determined. "It is all set," Monica said. Her voice was cold. Flat. All business. "The team is assembled. Ten men should be more than enough. The equipment is loaded. The van is prepped. The escape route has been driven three times. We are ready." "And you understand the parameters?" Ivan pressed. He was sitting on the couch cleaning his gun. Taking it apart and putting it back together with practiced efficiency. "No one touches Grayson. He comes out of this without a scratch. Not a bruise. Not a hair out of place. Father wants him perfect." "I am not stupid," Monica snapped. "I know what Father wants. Grayson is mine. No one else lays a hand on him." "We are not bringing feelings into this," Jake said from where he stood by the window. "This is business. Pure business.

Grayson stared at his phone screen. Two locations. Two different pins on the map. One from Monica's text message. One from Trevor's live trace on Ayven's smartwatch. They were not even close. Opposite sides of the city. Miles apart. Monica's location was an abandoned warehouse complex near the old shipping docks. Industrial wasteland. No active businesses. No security cameras for blocks. The kind of place where bodies turned up and nobody asked questions. But Ayven's watch signal was pinging from a completely different warehouse district. Across town. North side. Former manufacturing zone that had been empty for a decade. She had split them up on purpose, divided his forces to make him choose. Classic tactical move. And it was working. Lucas stood beside the driver's door, waiting for orders. Behind him were twelve security guards. All armed, all trained. All former military law enforcement. The best people money could buy. And they were all looking at Grayson. Waiting to be tol

[UNKNOWN SAFE HOUSE - ALBERT AND VICTORIA'S LOCATION] "We need to go back!" Victoria Cross was pacing back and forth across the hardwood floors. Back and forth. Back and forth. Like a caged animal. Her hands were shaking. Her voice was getting louder with each repetition. "We need to show our faces! We need to let Volkov know we are alive! He is going to wipe out the entire family to get to us! Our son! Our grandchildren! And I will not let that happen!" Albert Cross sat on the leather couch. His head in his hands. They had been having this same argument for hours. Since they got the call from their contact. The one who had been watching Grayson from a distance for twenty-five years. Reporting back. Keeping them updated. The children had been kidnapped. Ayven and Angel. Taken from their school and Grayson was walking into a trap. And they were sitting here. Hiding. Like they had been hiding for a quarter of a century. "Grayson can handle it," Albert said quietly. His voice was