Semua Bab Ten Ways To Kill Alpha PENKING : Bab 51 - Bab 60

The lawyer arrived within an hour.Marcus Chen. Mid-forties. Expensive suit. Sharp eyes that missed nothing.He sat across from Penking and Amelia in the living room. Listened without interrupting as Penking explained the situation.When Penking finished, Marcus set down his pen.“Let me make sure I understand,” he said. “You want to confess to crimes you may or may not have committed to appease a woman who’s blackmailing you with your partner’s pregnancy.”“Yes.”“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”“I don’t care if it’s stupid. Can you make it work?”Marcus leaned back. “Maybe. If we structure it right. If the prosecutors bite. If Olivia accepts the deal.” He looked at Amelia. “And if you’re willing to testify.”She blinked. “What?”“If Penking is confessing to manslaughter in Elena’s death, the prosecution will want corroboration. Witnesses. You lived with him. You have access to his files. His operations. You could provide that.”“You want me to testify against him?”“I w

Three months passed.Amelia’s stomach grew. The baby kicked more. Stronger now.She went to doctor appointments alone. Dan offered to come but she said no.This was something she needed to do by herself.Learn to be alone. Learn to be strong.She visited Penking every week.He looked thinner each time. Harder. Prison was changing him.But he smiled when he saw her. Asked about the baby. Tried to stay present.In the fourth month, she found out the gender.A girl.She told Penking during the next visit.He cried. Actually cried.She’d never seen him cry before.“A daughter,” he said. Voice breaking. “We’re having a daughter.”“We are.”“What should we name her?”“I don’t know. I thought we could decide together.”“How? I’m in here. You’re out there.”“So we write letters. Make lists. Figure it out.”He nodded. “Okay. Letters.”They started writing.Long letters about names. About the future. About everything they couldn’t say in visits.She kept every one. Stored them in a box under th

Cullen called again that night.Amelia answered. “What do you want?”“Did you talk to Kael?”“Yes.”“And? Did he confirm what I said?”“He confirmed there are things he didn’t confess to. But he also said you don’t have proof.”Cullen laughed. “He’s wrong. I have plenty of proof. Witness statements. Financial records. Video footage of some very interesting meetings.”“Then why call me? Why not go to the prosecutors yourself?”“Because I don’t want him to serve more time. I want something else.”“What?”“Control. Of his remaining operations. His territories. His connections.” Cullen’s voice was smooth. “He’s in prison. He can’t run things anymore. Someone has to step in. That someone is me.”“And if I refuse?”“Then I release everything. The prosecutors reopen his case. Add charges. And instead of four years, he serves twenty. Maybe life.”Her hands clenched. “You’re blackmailing me.”“I’m offering you a choice. Let me take over peacefully. Or watch Kael lose everything, including the

Penking found out who killed Cullen within three days.His name was Viktor. One of Penking’s oldest lieutenants. A man who’d been with him since the beginning.He confessed through a letter smuggled into the prison.I did what needed to be done. Cullen was a threat. Threats get eliminated. That’s how you taught us to operate.I don’t regret it. And I’d do it again.V.Amelia read the letter in Penking’s next visit.“What are you going to do?” she asked.“Cut him loose. Publicly disavow him. Make it clear he acted alone and against orders.”“Will that be enough?”“It’ll have to be.” Penking leaned back in his chair. “Viktor’s loyal. Too loyal. He won’t talk. Won’t give up my name even under pressure.”“And if the police find evidence anyway?”“They won’t. Viktor’s good at what he does. The scene was clean. The gun untraceable. It looks like suicide because that’s what he made it look like.”Amelia folded the letter. “This doesn’t feel like progress. It feels like the same cycle. Someon

The parole hearing was on a Tuesday.Amelia wore black. Simple. Professional. Nothing that screamed victim or trophy wife.Just a woman supporting her husband.Marcus met her outside the hearing room. “Ready?”“No. But let’s do it anyway.”They went inside.The room was small. A table. Chairs. The parole board sitting across from them.Five people. Three men. Two women. All stone-faced.Penking was already there. In prison clothes. Thinner. Harder. But his eyes lit up when he saw her.She sat in the gallery. Didn’t smile. Just nodded.He nodded back.The hearing began.The board asked questions. About his crime. His time served. His behavior in prison.Penking answered calmly. Honestly. No excuses. No deflection.“I killed Elena Penking,” he said. “Not directly. But through negligence. Through choosing profit over safety. And I’ve spent every day since trying to understand how I became someone capable of that.”“And have you? Understood?” one of the board members asked.“I think so. I