Chapter 685
Chapter 685:
Alistair froze. He looked at the door.
“Who p>
“I don’t know the name,” Bianca whispered. “But the order was clear. No loose ends. If I talk… I die p>
Suddenly, the lights in the interrogation room flickered. The electronic lock on the door beeped—a red error code.
Skye pressed the talk button. “Alistair, get out of there. The system is rebooting p>
Alistair tried the door. It was jammed. “We’re locked in p>
Bianca’s eyes went wide. She started to hyperventilate. “They’re here! They’re going to kill me p>
“Calm down,” Alistair ordered.
“No! No!” Bianca shrieked. She looked around the room frantically. Her eyes landed on the detective’s desk in the corner—specifically, a pair of heavy shears left by a clerk earlier.
She lunged.
Chaos erupted in the small room.
“Get away from me!” Bianca screamed, snatching the shears.
Alistair moved to intercept, but Bianca was faster, fueled by terror. She backed into the corner, the blades pressed against her own jugular.
“I’m not going to let them take me!” Bianca shrieked. Her eyes were wild, rolling in her head. “I’ll do it! I swear p>
The door finally clicked open, the reboot cycle finishing. Two officers rushed in, guns drawn.
“Drop the weapon p>
“Get back!” Bianca yelled. “Or I paint this wall red p>
Skye burst into the room from the observation deck. “Bianca, stop p>
Bianca fixed on her. “You… you can save me. Get me out of here. Now! Or I end it p>
𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲.𝗰𝗼𝗺 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆
It was a classic manipulation tactic—use guilt, use shock. But underneath it, Skye saw genuine, animalistic fear. The Syndicate’s reputation was enough to make a mercenary choose suicide over capture.
Skye looked at her. She didn’t feel fear. She felt… a cold resolve.
She walked past the officers.
“Skye, stop!” Alistair warned, reaching for her.
Skye ignored him. She walked right up to Bianca, stopping inches from the shears.
“You want to die, Bianca?” Skye asked softly.
“I’ll do it!” Bianca pressed the blades harder. A drop of blood welled up.
Skye turned and walked to the window at the end of the corridor, which the officers had left open for ventilation. They were on the third floor. A fall from here onto the concrete below would be fatal.
Skye climbed onto the sill. She stood there, the wind whipping her hair, her heels teetering on the edge.
“Skye!” Alistair shouted, lunging forward.
“Stay back!” Skye ordered. She looked at Bianca. “You think death is a threat? I’ve stared death in the face, Bianca. I’ve lost everything and clawed my way back. It’s cold. It’s dark. And it’s lonely p>