Semua Bab Owned By My Best Friend's Father: Bab 231 - Bab 240

LEAH'S POV I wake to birds chirping outside the window. Sunlight cuts across the room too bright. Every inch of my body protests as I push myself up. My ribs ache with each breath. My head throbs. For a long moment, I sit on the edge of the bed staring at the floor. I wish I could disappear back under the covers. But I cannot hide in this room forever. I move to the mirror. The girl looking back at me is a stranger with swollen eyes, a lip split, and a dark bruise blooms across my cheek. I touch it carefully and wince. Dried blood cracks on my lip. I look exactly like what I am. Someone who barely survived. I splash cold water on my face. I drag my fingers through my tangled hair and leave it at that. No makeup. No hiding. The house is quiet but smells like coffee I follow the smell of coffee into the kitchen. Emily stands at the stove scrambling eggs. "Leah" she says softly. "You are up. How are you feeling?" "I am managing." I pour myself a cup of coffee and wrap my hand

SAMSON'S POV The interrogation room was blinding. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry insects trapped in glass. The white walls felt like they were closing in. A metal table was bolted to the floor in the center of the room and two detectives sat across from me like they actually thought they could break me. My shoulder burned from the gunshot wound. My face was swollen and bruised from the beating Damien gave me before they dragged me away. Every breath sent sharp pain through my ribs. But I leaned back in the uncomfortable chair with cuffs biting into my wrists and smiled at them like we were having a friendly chat. “Mr. Samson,” the older detective began, sliding a thick folder across the table. “You’ve got quite the rap sheet. Private security. Weapons trafficking. Assault. Kidnapping. You want to tell us why you were running a full compound full of armed men out in the middle of nowhere?” I didn’t answer right away. I just kept smiling, letting the silence st

DAMIEN'S POV I push open the door to my office and walk straight to the desk papers are spread everywhere financial records, legal documents, and shareholder lists. I need to get things handled. I need to take control back but I can't focus. I keep thinking about Cassian. My friend for years, We grew up together, we were a trio Cassain,Rose and I. We were inseparable and then we both fell for Rose. It was a friendly competition for her attention and I won. He was cool with it or so I thought. And that day happened, we were in a shootout and we ran into a building. And the rival gang set the place on fire Marcus knocks and steps inside and interrupts "Sir, the shareholders have been pacified for now. But Isabella is still making moves. She's been meeting with people. Planting doubts." "I know." I run a hand through my hair. "We need to stay ahead of her." "What's our next move?" I pause. I think about Samson. About the information he has. About the way he looked at me when

ELRIC'S POV The safe house felt too quiet. I sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor, my mind spinning in circles. Sophie was in the living room with me, curled up with her knees to her chest, scrolling through her phone. She still looked so small and fragile after everything we’d been through. I couldn’t sit here any longer. I stood up and walked over to her. She looked up at me, her eyes tired but alert. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to see Dad. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Sophie’s face changed. She sat up straighter. “You’re going to the precinct?” “Yeah.” She was quiet for a second, then nodded. “Do you have to?” I forced a small smile and ruffled her hair like I used to. “Yes I do, don't worry about me. Stay with your mom and make sure you don't go anywhere.” I grabbed my jacket and left before the guilt could stop me. The rain was pouring hard as I got into the car. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking on the steering wh

ISABELLA'S POV The penthouse was quiet except for the soft clink of ice in my glass as I poured myself another drink. The city lights stretched out below the floor-to-ceiling windows like a sea of stars, but tonight they brought me no comfort. I had been pacing the living room for the last twenty minutes, my heels clicking against the marble floor, when my phone rang. An unknown number calling at this hour? I almost ignored it. Almost. But something in my gut told me I needed to answer. I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was cold and professional. “Samson is dead.” The glass slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor. Red wine spread across the white marble. “What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “He was killed in custody. Made to look like suicide but we both know it isn't be careful.” The line went dead before I could say another word. I stood there frozen in the middle of the broken glass, staring at the phone in my hand.